R.I.P. Charlton Heston

"Oh my God. I'm back. I'm home. All the time, it was... We finally really did it."

-Charlton Heston as George Taylor, Planet of the Apes, 1968

Who Can I Turn To Now: An Adult Analysis

I use to say that, as a teenager growing up, music was my best friend. I had friends that I hung out with, parties, weekends, etc., but when I really needed someone; I relied on Bob Smith, Steph Morrissey, Bernie Sumner, Ian Curtis , Davy Gahan, Marty Gore, and many others to help me sort out my teenage dramas. I still love those guys, but they lie. They are not the best type of friends to have. They tell you only what you want to hear: "boys don't cry", "I know I'm unloveable", "isolation, isolation, isolation", "my weaknesses; you know each and every one". They provided a ready form of negative reinforcement: "heaven knows I'm miserable now" i.e. we all are miserable. They provided a numbing fix of pathos that stopped me from seeking the counsel of a flesh and blood "friend". As a near middle age adult, I am still trafficing in self destructive, aural depressants. A quick assessment of some of MiPod most played songs shows a tendency toward desperation: Coldplay fixing me, Ryan Adams coming to pick me up, Mariah telling me we belong together-don't forget about us.

When the music stops, noone is there.

Where am I going with this...