remembering is strange
and kind of hard to do
nothing is ever how i remember it
when i return
which makes me wonder if the things that i remember
actually happened at all.



"the lack of continuity
in recollection
v.
how things actually transpired"


this keeps me on my toes if nothing else.

there was this Chick Tract
my parent's gave me when i was smaller
and in it the main character dies and goes to Heaven
sits down next to G-d
and watches his whole life on a big movie screen

everything that had just transpired.

in the tract they come to the part where the character
accepts that he needs Jesus to save him from all the terrible things
the movie of his life has shown him being a part of
lying to his mother
stealing
having adulterous thoughts
all wiped clean by emotion drunk moment of weakness and prayer
which is the highlight, and ending of the movie.

he gets up and walks towards a standard door sized white light.

the man waiting in line behind him for his life's movie is terrified as he never had this moment in his life and he is up next to play movie time with G-d.

and the tract ends.

i never think to much about the door of light, or the scared fella preparing himself for the... other door?
at least not much anymore
which is a comforting change from how my mind worked when i was smaller.
but
i would really like to watch the movie of my life just to make sure i have all the major points right.

somewhere out there
(probably in jared goertzen's basement)
there is a high-8 cassette which contains footage
of a young jameson drunk me
getting dumped by my girlfriend while i was on tour

NOW

when i say that i was on tour i need to clarify
my nominally known regionally touring band was out for a couple of weeks playing small venues and basements.

nothing spectacular.  nor had i been gone long.

it was nothing spectacular.  but we had a good day on merch, and got a hotel, and it was half past wasted for us all.

and i needed to call my lady so i moved my sleeping bag to the vending machine room, because clearly that is the optimal place for privacy.

everything happened really fast

the room got small, sausha told me what her and john had been up to, and then there was erik, goertzen, and a camera.

i think i laughed and drank more.  i don't really remember.


a couple of weeks later, after they both implored that i did not tell john's girlfriend until he had talked to her, my aunt passed.

i drove to her funeral.

my mom said some things there, beautiful things, and really impressed upon everyone to live intentionally

john called and left a voicemail
his girlfriend called and wanted to meet up and
"see what happened"
i didn't know what that meant, and i didn't call either back.

i wanted to live intentionally.
so i drove home in silence, and drank whiskey until i passed out on the roof of my garage.

i watched some friends lose someone close to them
and was struck by how much work it is
to pass into oblivion
there's the making sure everyone who needs to know is aware
a daunting task in and of itself

there's the funeral
traveling
making time for the realization
cold as it may be
that one will never be again

sorrow is a whole job on its own
taking everyone different lengths of time and effort to come to grips with
some people never come back

but there is so much tedium in death
mindless red tape
settling the business of living
who will tell your landlord
who will clean your apartment

will they still miss you when they're done?

do you have to file taxes for the dead,
and if so where does their return go?

i suppose these things are all beside the point
except to say i don't hope to die anytime soon
sounds like way too much work