Question this week: How reasonable is it to be sad about the death of someone you have never actually met?
I was getting dressed, thinking about nothing in particular, when Rachel came up the stairs and said, "Gordon Downie died". So, half-dressed, I found I was crying and it took a while to put myself back together and go to work.
Playing my music, as I do at work in my little bubble, Gord's voice is the same as always. I look for news articles, and they tell me something I didn't know. He separated from his wife in 2015. He had four children, a fact I did know. How did they feel, sharing him with all of us rabid fans, people who feel they have a claim?
The documentary aired early, I was expecting to wait until November. Rachel and I watched it, some tears but it was largely a happy event. It was good to see that he had support. That he was cheerful backstage at the concerts, not hating every minute of it, not feeling compelled but wanting to see his fans and sing the songs one last time.
What happens next? I guess this is what happens as you get older, the people you admire either die, get old and rest on their laurels, or turn out to have feet of clay. Choose at your peril. I thought all along that if he could do it, stay married and raise children while doing what he did that I could do it too. And yet, that was my perception, not at all grounded in any sort of reality. Although I feel I have had access to something over the years, it's only the same as watching a movie, someone playing a part, words gathered together and spun into a whole cloth for entertainment.
anyway. more thought, as always, is necessary. if I had to go tomorrow, could I go with good grace? probably not, at this point. there are, in the swamp years, as Murray Sinclair called them recently, still things that I don't want to leave unfinished...
I was getting dressed, thinking about nothing in particular, when Rachel came up the stairs and said, "Gordon Downie died". So, half-dressed, I found I was crying and it took a while to put myself back together and go to work.
Playing my music, as I do at work in my little bubble, Gord's voice is the same as always. I look for news articles, and they tell me something I didn't know. He separated from his wife in 2015. He had four children, a fact I did know. How did they feel, sharing him with all of us rabid fans, people who feel they have a claim?
The documentary aired early, I was expecting to wait until November. Rachel and I watched it, some tears but it was largely a happy event. It was good to see that he had support. That he was cheerful backstage at the concerts, not hating every minute of it, not feeling compelled but wanting to see his fans and sing the songs one last time.
What happens next? I guess this is what happens as you get older, the people you admire either die, get old and rest on their laurels, or turn out to have feet of clay. Choose at your peril. I thought all along that if he could do it, stay married and raise children while doing what he did that I could do it too. And yet, that was my perception, not at all grounded in any sort of reality. Although I feel I have had access to something over the years, it's only the same as watching a movie, someone playing a part, words gathered together and spun into a whole cloth for entertainment.
anyway. more thought, as always, is necessary. if I had to go tomorrow, could I go with good grace? probably not, at this point. there are, in the swamp years, as Murray Sinclair called them recently, still things that I don't want to leave unfinished...
