Comfortably Numb

Last June I abandoned my blog. I needed a break from the weekly meditations and thoughts about such philosophical niceties as freedom and liberty. I had to stop thinking about torture and what it means when a democracy commits crimes. I wanted more than the corruption I see every time I read or hear news from Washington. I started to feel like a nutcase—comparable to the old guy I used to see as a child standing on a corner of Highway One with a big sign and VW Microbus and waving an American flag. I began to wonder: Is There Anybody Out There?

I saw Roger Waters at The Hollywood Bowl last night. Every song rang as politically true as it did two, three, and even four decades ago. There were many divine moments in the show. In the first set, he played Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun, and just as the music hypnotically crept upward into the stands, the moon crested the Hollywood Hills behind the stage. It was Ali who noticed it first. It was as if the moon were tied to a string and dragged into the stars to the same steady beat as the song, like footsteps marching from the stage. Ali turned to me and said, “It’s moments like this that I believe in God.”

With each song I reflected on the time in my life when I first listened to them. The sad reality is how much things have remained the same since then. The corruption, the war, and the madness all still surround me, making the growing pains of childhood feel even more profound. I sang Another Brick in The Wall to my fifth grade class once. Mrs. Douglas had stepped out of the classroom. I’m not sure what possessed me to do it because as far as I can recall, I was a good kid. She went next door to borrow something from Mrs. George and I jumped up on my desk and asked the class to sing with me. We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control…I was actually surprised when I was given a time out and reprimanded during recess for my behavior.

Ali cried when the band played Shine On You Crazy Diamond to a montage of the late Syd Barret. She cried as we watched intently those deep, possessed, and tortured dark eyes disappear from the screen and into atmospheric particles and gas. Camera phones have now replaced lighters as an audience captures as many moments of the show as they can on film. Let’s only hope they do something important and fearless with it.

Comments

[Mel]

Hey thanks for letting me know about your blog! It's nice to get reaquainted... Its also nice to know we share some of the same political views. Can't wait to hear more about the WIP project!

I didn't have Mrs. Douglas and I was always jealous of the people who did. I had Mr. Allen. Looking back though, I think he suited my personality more. I think if you had been in his class and had jumped on a desk and started singing, you probably would have gotten a gold star instead a time out. You also would have been recruited into one of his plays.

Hmmm... on second thought. Better that you were in Mrs. Douglas's class. I had to be in "Really Rosie" and it's not one of my happier moments from childhood.

*shudder*

;)

[Josh]

Kate! Glad to see your back on the typepad~~~~ more, more!

i too was at the Roger Waters Show and was equally moved by his energetic, impassioned, exuberant performance.... those songs still resonate so deeply, perhaps moreso today as the war machine rages on....as the meditative, haunting quality of his music washed over me i kept glancing up at the full moon as well and wondering... wow, the timing here is extraordinary... it was one of those unforgettable experiences where I was transported to that place where life is rapturously joyful and transcendence is possible and ordinary human corruption can be laughed at as we celebrated the beauty behind the madness.....
that was just about the best show i've ever been too..... and god, what a set.....

keep up all the good work.......

:)

[Benjaminb Schonbrun]

Hi Kate,

Always glad to read your writings.They are comforting in a troubling world of chaos and turmoil. Your ruminations on how much things have changed and yet so little resonates here in an internet cafe in Hanoi. People here have been colonized, corrupted, subjugated and more or less depending on whether you are American, French or the vendor trying to eke out a living hawking useless trinkets or rides to nowhere. The concert in Hollywood under the stars and the moon on a string sounds so L.A. The better part of L.A. Thanks for sharing your little corner of the universe with a weary traveler far, far away.

Benjamin
Hanoi, Vietnam
October 11, 2006

[Arlyn]

Hey, glad you're back.

Your opening paragraph reminded me of when I was a kid and went downtown in Cleveland. A guy in a well-worn, light brown wrinkled suit used to stand on one corner of the square and rant about the end of the world. I used to cross the street to avoid him. Others did too. I think he is President now.