Can You Hear Me Now

In boxing, I had a lot of fear. Fear was good. But, for the first time, in the bout with Muhammad Ali, I didn’t have any fear. I thought, ‘This is easy. This is what I’ve been waiting for’. No fear at all. No nervousness. And I lost.

George Foreman

The following is a semi autobiographical, playful missive. Like Brian, teenage Andrew used loud rock and roll music in order to find the strength to call a girl and the Rolling Stones were my go-to band — with the Jefferson Airplane’s Bless It’s Pointed Little Head album coming in as a close second. That’s where the factual part ends, though. While I still use music as a pathway to my inner strength, I am well past 55, far from divorce, and typically choose less raucous tunes when I need to summon courage.

However, I retain the right to crank up the intensity when I need an extra push and a bigger bang. Thankfully, it’s for adult problems and not the teenage struggle of asking Robyn Whitmore out on a date. That ship sank a long time ago.

By the way, she said “yes” before ultimately saying “no.” That’s a story for another day.

---

As a teenager, Brian was so shy about calling a girl that it would take him hours to work up the nerve to pick up the telephone and dial her number. He would circle the phone like a tiger pacing in a too small cage. When he felt that he just couldn’t do it, he would put something loud and raucous on the stereo. His two go-to favorites were the Rolling Stones’ album Sticky Fingers and just about anything by Led Zeppelin. Ironically, it was the Rolling Stones’ rocker Bitch that he most often turned to.

So, here he was 55 years old, divorced for three years, and he still couldn’t muster the strength to call Maryann, an attractive woman near his age that he met at a convention last month.

Why was it that when it came to members of the opposite sex, Brian was no better now than he was at 16? After all, he was very successful in his career and had received numerous accolades over the years. He did quite a bit of public speaking, climbed as far up the corporate ladder as he cared to go, sat on several boards of directors, and did volunteer work for a number of charitable organizations. Still, here he stood iPhone in hand as if he had no idea how to work the screen.

After finally deciding to throw her number in the wastebasket and find something quick and easy to eat, he heard a rumbling in the furthest reaches of his brain. At first he wasn’t quite sure what he was hearing. It sounded familiar, but there were no words to grab onto to identify the song. As he stood there concentrating, the song grew louder and louder until without even realizing what he was doing, he began to quietly sing.

Sometimes I’m sexy, move like a stud
Kicking the stall all night
Sometimes I’m so shy, got to be worked on
Don’t have no bark or bite, alright

His singing grew louder and louder.

Yeah when you call my name
I salivate like a Pavlov dog
Yeah when you lay me out
My heart beats louder than a big bass drum, alright

Eventually, his voice grew so loud that he was practically screaming the words.

Yeah, you got to mix it child
You got to fix it
must be love
It’s a bitch
You got to mix it child
You got to fix it
but love
It’s a bitch, alright

Brian opened the phone app on his mobile phone, dialed the number, and listened as the ringing blared into his ear.

Love, it’s a bitch

Mischief Managed

And there you have it. A little bit of my story with a whole lot of not my story. I hope you enjoyed it.

Thank you for reading

Late nights in darkened back seats stumbling
fumbling with buttons and the clasps on the backs of brassieres
we were daring yet innocently chaste
uncovering delirious mysteries
strictly above the waist

Not quite children, but not yet adults
behind breath-fogged windows
we reenacted rituals ancient and oft repeated
convinced we were the Magellans of our time
discovering new and heretofore unconquered lands
staking out our claim with trembling and sweaty hands