The Gambler
Listening to Glasser (Ring)Listen/Buy Ring
I have one word for The Joy Formidable show: OHMYGOD. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmyGOD! Perfect night, perfect company, perfect show, perfect t-shirt, perfect everything. It was magic.
The Joy Formidable, my latest musical obsession, played The Bowery Ballroom on November 16, and November 16 has now become a personal, practically religious, holiday for me. You’ll all be getting a Happy Joy Formidable Day card from me this time next year.
They were tight, entertaining, soulful, cute, kick-ass, and loud, all in perfect proportion. They played like they meant it. They were amazing. I know I sound completely fan-girl right now and this could cost me some credibility. My charming friend B_ can back me up, I swear!
Since they only have the one (incredible and awesome) album out (A Balloon Called Moaning – buy it) they played everything off it and still had time for a couple new songs, all fabulous. Only one moment of panic when I thought they were finished yet still hadn’t played my favorite song (Whirring), but they were merely saving the best for last.
I about lost my mind jumping around like an insane person during Whirring, showering everyone around me with my cup of beer, so I’m making a blanket apology to anyone within 20 feet of me. I have to say, though, that I’ve stood behind so many obnoxious people at so many concerts I feel as though I’ve done my time and totally deserved my five minutes of annoying behavior.
The show was capped off by me telling the drummer Matt Thomas in a cool and glamorous way that I liked his hair longer, and that it’s always good for drummers to have long hair like Russell Brand so they could swing it around to the beat. Then I swung my hair around for dramatic emphasis. He signed my ticket quickly and avoided eye contact, but I could tell he dug me deep down inside.
Can you even imagine how much flattery the average drummer of even the most average band must hear, let alone a really talented one with great hair? I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately – the flattery thing, and even more so how much an overactive imagination can twist it around and create a completely false reality in your head, especially for me when it comes to men. I’m as susceptible as anyone else to being told I’m great for whatever reason, and tend to let my imagination fill in the parts that are lacking when the actions/reality don’t match the words. Turns out, this is a bad, bad thing.
How important a life skill is it to be able to rationally separate the gold from the glitter, or better yet not to allow your imagination or your wants to color what’s actually happening (especially with men). I was a pretty lonely little kid, and my imagination was my best friend. I still value my imagination highly, but I’m learning that too much of it can stop me from seeing the truth of a situation (or a man). It’s hard to analyze clearly when your mind is wrapped in cotton-y wishful thinking.
My daydreams, though, are an addiction. It’s hard to admit that my favorite method of escape is really, really harmful to me. They seem so innocuous, but I know they are holding me down. It’s like I’m gambling with reality. I’ve never viewed myself as a gambler but I gamble all the time – just not with money.
Whether I’m driving like I own the road, or letting my version of reality overshadow the real one, or saying something in a fit of pique that I seriously regret saying seconds after it comes out of my mouth, I’m gambling with my relationships, my emotions, sometimes my life. Meanwhile I break out into a flop sweat if I put $20 on black in roulette.
I’ll bet there are a lot of emotional/psychological gamblers out there. And I’ll put even more money down to say that many of us have no idea when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. If we did, we’d all be blissed out Buddhas sitting under trees and levitating each other for fun. Instead, I for one continually am barking up wrong trees, beating my head against walls, and yelling at the sky for not being purple. I’m gambling not with my money but with my time, energy, personal power, and happiness.
Most of my attempts at forcing someone’s hand or allowing my imagination to steamroll reality don’t end too well for me. Inevitably, I’m disappointed. The real problem with that is that when my fake reality gets shaken I tend to lose my ability to react with compassion for the other person and see the bigger picture. It’s the classic no-win situation.
So, in a surge of maturity, I’ve chosen to close this particular chapter of my life. Time to stop wasting time. No more putting myself into hopeless situations, or creating unnecessary drama due to shortsighted decisions, reactionary impulses, or an overindulged imagination.
Before me is the proverbial blank page, oft praised in song, on screen, and in print. I’d like to say it fills me with hope and promise; the reality is all this blankness terrifies the shit out of me.
But I guess it’s about time I learned when to walk away and when to run,4 and more importantly, when to close out a chapter and start fresh. I just hope I’m able to fill these next pages with something that at least resembles a healthy, balanced, kinda rock-n-roll outlook. Or at least something that gets me backstage at the next Joy Formidable show. That longish-haired drummer and I have some unfinished business. Rawr!
______a New album out called The Big Roar, being released January 24, 2010 in the UK, February 21 in Europe, and March 15 in the US of A1 Read, “drunken and sloppy”2 I do, in fact, own the road.3 Aaaaaand with that, I’ve completely run out of gambling metaphors4 Snap! One more metaphor! I am in it to win it, baby!
