moving on

Exit 154. I don’t want to be the kind of guy that old country songs are about.

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a very large and diverse music collection.  I haven’t taken the time to learn my way around streaming music services, for a variety of reasons, but that’s another discussion for another time.

Earlier this month, I made an overnight trip to visit some relatives I don’t see often, which resulted in me spending a lot of time in the car with my six thousand plus songs playing on shuffle, and this song came on.

(The song is “The Girl From Yesterday” by the Eagles, with the late Glenn Frey on vocals.  Apparently, this is one of their lesser known songs, and there is no official YouTube video, so if in the future someone is ever reading this, and the link doesn’t work anymore, let me know and I’ll try to fix it if I can.)

I started listening to classic rock radio (among other things) in my late teens, the early 1990s.  The Eagles, one of the most recognizable bands of the genre, broke up in 1980 after an argument between Glenn Frey and Don Henley.  After both of them had successful solo careers in the 80s, the Eagles got back together in 1994, toured, and released an album with four new songs (including this one) and some live songs from their tour.  I got that CD as a Christmas present my first Christmas home from college.

But for a while, this was my least favorite song on the album, and I would often skip it.  It took a while to grow on me, because it was too country for me.  The Eagles have always been known for blending rock and country music influences, but as I’ve written about before, I didn’t like country music until much later in my life, and this song is about as country as songs come.  The topic of the song is pretty stereotypical of country songs as well: a woman whose man left her, and she is never able to get over him or accept the fact that he is gone for good.  (This song did grow on me before the rest of the country genre as a whole did, but I don’t remember if there’s any big story to that.)

It was in 2005, during my travels across the USA and back, that I realized that country music isn’t so bad sometimes.  A friend who I visited during that time let me copy a bunch of her country CDs to my laptop, and one of them included this song, which also came up on shuffle earlier this month:

Lyrically, this is another pretty standard country song: a guy is determined to get over a woman who left him.  I hadn’t heard this song in a while, and one line caught my ear when I heard it this time:

I heard that old Jones song just the other day
About a man who took a broken heart to his grave
But I’ll be dammed if a memory’s gonna lay me down

As one would expect, old country music isn’t my area of expertise, since I mostly ignored it.  I didn’t know what Dierks was referring to the first time I heard this song in 2005.  But I have learned a little more about old country music since then, and I’m pretty sure the “old Jones song” refers to this:

 

(Again, not an official video, let me know if it ever stops working.  The song is “He Stopped Loving Her Today” by the late George Jones.)

I don’t want to be the kind of guy that old country songs are about.  (Of course, in the case of The Girl From Yesterday, the genders would be reversed.)  I’ve spent decades carrying around the burdens of memories of rejection and relationships that didn’t work out.  They’re not coming back.  They’re not going to change.  It does me no good to keep carrying around these memories.  I don’t know how to do this, but I have to figure it out.  Maybe it means doing new things and spending time with different people.  Maybe it means I’ve come to some bridges that it’s time to burn.  But I will do this.  I will move on with my life.

Exit 153. Good advice from a bad application.

I recently came across a meme, a screen shot of a conversation about malaphors.  A malaphor is the mixing of two or more familiar expressions.  The origin of the word seems to be a mixing of the suffix mal-, from Latin for “bad,” with the word metaphor, ultimately derived from the Greek for “apply,” as in applying a word to something else that it does not mean literally.  So a malaphor is literally a “bad application.”

A commonly cited example of a malaphor is “I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it.”  The actual saying is “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” meaning not to worry about things that might not even happen.  The burning part comes from the saying “burning bridges,” which means walking away from something and leaving no possibility of turning back, just as literally burning a bridge would leave one permanently on one side of the water with no possibility of crossing back to the other side.

Shortly after I saw this meme, I overheard someone talking about having had a really rough day.  The incident that set her over the edge was not necessarily something all that serious in and of itself, but given a buildup of little things that had previously happened, that incident led to a huge argument.  She referred to it as “the needle that broke the haystack.”  I was amused with that description, because that is another malaphor.  The actual phrase she intended to use is “the straw that broke the camel’s back” (or the shorter variation “the last straw”), meaning a minor event that causes a major reaction because of the buildup of other minor events.  A camel can easily carry a straw on its back, but when already laden with hundreds of pounds of straw, or other burdens, one straw may be enough to break the camel.  She got this phrase confused with “finding a needle in a haystack,” referring to an extremely difficult and arduous task.

This morning, I was thinking about recent changes in my life and social circles, and wondering whether it is time to cut off certain potentially toxic individuals entirely.  I hate to cut people out of my life.  If I was once close with someone, or if I once saw something good in someone I didn’t know well, I often wish that things could be the way they once were and we could be close again.  And if I do happen to run across any of these people again, I don’t like the awkward situation of possibly having to explain why I cut them out of my life.  But on the other hand, I need to take care of myself, and it seems dangerous to give people opportunities to do or say hurtful things, especially in cases when I’ve been hurt before.

And then it hit me.  A thought crossed my mind from one of these malaphors.  Good advice from a bad application.

I’ll burn those bridges when I come to them.

As I said before, there have been some changes lately, the kind of changes in which I am naturally growing apart from the people who are making me feel conflicted about this.  So it might not really be an issue at all.  I might see these people so infrequently going forward that I won’t have to worry about any toxic interactions.  A lot of this is all in my head.  So maybe the best decision is to just wait and see.  To let former friendships die a natural death.  And if any of these people do cross paths with me again, if things end up being hurtful, then maybe I’ll say something face to face and/or block them from all social media.

I’ll burn those bridges when I come to them.

Exit 133. Time to go our separate ways.

I’ve known you for many, many years.  I’ve trusted you with some very important secrets.  I’ve defended you to others who don’t like you and keep telling me that I can do better.

And yet you betrayed my trust.  You told lies and engaged in shady unethical behavior for purely selfish reasons.  Although I don’t believe that you put any secrets of mine at risk, I can’t say the same for everyone else who trusted you, and it was probably only a matter of time before you used me as well.

So, after 21 years, it is time to go our separate ways.  I have moved on.  I’m over you.  Time to make a new start with someone else.  It’s done.

For the record, this is about my bank.  The bank that I have used for the last 21 years was caught in a scandal recently, and as of this weekend I have finished moving my money elsewhere and cutting all ties to them.  This post wasn’t about a friend or a significant other, and it isn’t intended to passively-aggressively call anyone out.  But if the shoe fits…

I’ve said this before.  I hate to cut anyone out of my life, because even when I grow apart from someone, I remember what it was like when we were close, and I always want to hold out hope that we may grow close again.  But sometimes holding on to something like this does more harm than good.  Not everyone whom I meet is going to be a close friend forever, or at all, and not everyone whom I choose to make a priority is going to make me a priority in their life in return.  It is exceedingly draining to keep investing my life and my emotional energy in someone who just doesn’t act like they care.  Maybe we were close once, but sometimes people change, and sometimes when I first want to be close to someone, I don’t realize what they are really like.

I’ve always had a hard time with this aspect of friendships and relationships, and it has been coming up again lately in a lot of places, including my experience with the bank.  Unfortunately, this is just part of life and of growing up.  Who to keep in my life and who to cut ties with is going to be a difficult decision…

Exit 124. Maybe it’s time to find someone else.

Santiago Casilla has been having a rough couple of months.

Casilla is the closer for the San Francisco Giants baseball team.  For my unbaseballed readers, “closer” is the informal term for a pitcher whose role is to enter the game late and usually only pitch one inning.  The strategy is to use the closer in a close game in which the team is leading, so that the closer can pitch a few quick outs and end the game in a win for his team.

But Casilla not been very good at his job lately.  Recently, when he has entered the game with a small lead, he ends up pitching poorly and letting the other team score, often resulting in a loss for the Giants.  Fans are frustrated, sometimes now to the point of booing when Giants manager Bruce Bochy calls for Casilla to enter the game.  (And I don’t think they were saying Boo-ochy.)  Two months ago, the Giants were the best team in all of Major League Baseball, but since then they have slid precipitously in the standings, now barely clinging to life in the playoff race.

The moderator of a Giants Facebook posted last night that the only thing that makes sense at this point is that Casilla must have compromising pictures of Bochy.  In other words, Casilla must be keeping the closer job by blackmailing Bochy, because Bochy should know better than to use Casilla in these situations when he has caused the team to lose so many games.

Last night, I was playing board games with friends, but keeping an eye on the Giants score on my phone.  The Giants were leading 2-1 over the St. Louis Cardinals going into the 9th inning, but then Casilla came in to pitch, walked a runner, gave up a couple of hits, and left the game with the Giants behind 3-2.  The Giants could not score in the bottom of the 9th.  My friends who also follow the Giants were expressing similar thoughts about why Bochy continues to use Casilla in these situations, and how Bochy keeps deflecting the question when asked this by reporters.  Everyone has a bad day sometimes.  Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.  I get that.  If a closer blows a save or two, it shouldn’t cost him his job.  But when your team’s closer is leading Major League Baseball with nine blown saves this season, most of them coming relatively recently, then maybe it’s time to find someone else to do the job.

Finally, I said, “Bochy needs to let go and move on, and use someone else as the closer.  He’s acting like a guy who can’t get over his ex-girlfriend and keeps hoping they’ll get back together.”

I’ve been that guy before.  This is a hard life lesson for many of us, whether or not it has any connection with baseball.  Sometimes what used to work isn’t working anymore, and sometimes life has changed to the point where it may never work like that again.  Change is hard, but sometimes not changing is even harder in the long run.  Just like the Giants, I can’t stay stuck in my same old patterns and expect to stop being sad all of a sudden.  If I’m doing something that I don’t enjoy, taking time away from other things in life, then it’s time to do something else.  If I’m spending time and energy on people who aren’t making me a priority, then it’s time to stop making them such a priority.  Time to let go and move on.

Exit 28. Maybe we’re not supposed to forget the painful times.

Last week, I was sending someone a happy birthday message on Facebook.  I also asked how she was doing, since I can’t remember the last time I saw her.  For that matter, I’ve only met her in person a few times; she is friends with some of my dancing friends.  She messaged back the next day, and I was in the middle of writing her back, about 22 hours after this exchange started, when a thought of Procyon popped into my head.  As I was dismissing that thought, I realized that I was pretty proud of myself for having taken 22 hours for that thought to even cross my mind.  This must mean I’m finally moving on and getting over stuff.

Let me back up and explain here.  Procyon is my astrocode name for someone I dated very briefly in early 2007.  She was a brat.  She was into putting down things I liked, and one time when we were arguing about this, she told me that I was immature because I didn’t know how to fight in a relationship.  Excuse me… it’s like she’s saying that it’s my fault that the last girl I dated before her (Vega) was a nice person and never did anything to cause a fight.  She acted like she thought it was cute the time she humiliated and falsely slandered me in public, which occurred approximately three hours after the not knowing how to fight argument, and approximately twelve hours (most of which were spent trying to sleep) before the official breakup.  I really don’t think there was anything I saw in her other than that she was a female human who seemed interested in hanging out with me.  About six months later, she briefly started coming back to the Bible study where we met, where she kept going on and on and on about how wonderful her new boyfriend was, right in front of me.  Less than a year after that, she was marrying this guy, right around the same time I went on my first real date after she and I broke up.  I never knew what happened to her after that, and to be completely honest, I’ve never really wanted to know.

Anyway, my friend with the birthday last week has never met Procyon.  My friend looks nothing like her, and my friend isn’t mean like her.  But this friend has often brought up a brief passing memory of Procyon in my mind, simply because the two of them have very similar names.

It takes me a long time to get over things, particularly when the things involved are being hurt romantically, since dates and romantic relationships are so few and far between for me to begin with.  It takes me a long time to forget hurtful things, just because of the way my brain works.  But maybe I’m missing the point here.  Maybe we’re not supposed to forget the painful times.  If we forget the hurt, then the good times won’t feel as good, because we won’t remember what it’s like to go through times that aren’t good.  If we forget the hurt, we won’t remember the lessons we learn in hardships and trials.  And, while this isn’t really true of Procyon, there are some people who have caused me hurt who were also responsible for some very good times before things fell apart.

Things have happened that didn’t work out.  I can’t change that.  They weren’t meant to last.  But these episodes are part of my past, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.  No one can live a full life while haunted by decisions made in the past, or by the fear of things that might go wrong in the future.  I don’t have to tense up and get mad every time I see a Facebook comment by someone who hurt me, or by someone who has a similar name to someone who hurt me.  It’s not easy to move on from things like that.  It takes a lot of time, and conscious effort.  But I just have to keep practicing, because of that old saying about drinking poison and expecting your enemy to die.

Of course, now that I’ve written this, I’m going to think of Procyon right away every time my similarly-named friend shares anything on Facebook.  But that’s okay, because I’m choosing not to carry around that hurt anymore.