daydreaming of a funeral
on the drive in this morning, i was listening to another past episode of the absolutely side splitting comedy podcast, congratulations! with chris d’elia. i dont think there’s anyone funnier in podcast land than this guy and i really look forward to the laughs. now, while i was having some laughs while traffic was suprisingly BRUTAL due to a wreck and carfire, the podcast got to an ad break, i thought, let me get some music in. im feeling alive! lets put a soundtrack to it!
having had a brief discussion the day before at work about the newly released trove of radiohead: ok computer tracks and demos, i thought… traffic… carfires… the monotony of commuting… isolation… pull up ok computer. it’s been aaaaawhile. now i KNOW the step from sillytown of chris d’elia to radiohead is a leap. it’s a gear shift. the music that pairs with d’elia is not music i would ever listen to. on purpose. but this is where i was/am… this is just the cocoon im in. so i dial up radiohead…
airbag… yes, yes. i mean, i am driving… this works. this works.
paranoid android… uh huh…
subterranean homesick alien… actually, i dont even remember this one. must have zoned out.
but i pick back up in relative conciousness as one of my favorites, “exit music (for a film)” begins. and this is where i felt a need to tell this sad story. so. exit music (for a film” starts and “i’m wak(e)ing from my sleep and drying up my tears,” because as you may or may not know… “today, we escape. we esca-aaaaaaape.”
i drift in and out while driving. shifting through the gears when i have to, gliding. staying in the fastlane as much as possible. sometimes i can. sometimes i have to move around. houston drivers and all. in houston, both the fast and the dead. all in the fast lane.
“there’s” (ride cymbal) “such a chill” (ride cymbal) “such a chillllllllllll” DRUMS begin!
and i am lost, man. i am flying. i am free. i am soooooo alive and i finish this concerto to the dashboard singing along.
“we hope… that you choke, that you choke”
for some reason, maybe the choking bit, i think of what might be my passing (one day) and having just spent some time in this exit music landscape, i think of how i’d like to have this song played at my funeral. uhhh? morbid? a tad? sure. but im going with this flow, man. im drifting through this headspace and even here, im trying to control things. but that song… yeah, i want that song to play around what’s left of me when i go.
in these moments, Quick! like synapse! QUICK! “let down” begins to play… OH! MAN! I LOVE THIS FUCKING ONE TOO! oh dude! i want this one to play too! oh man! the waterworks (for someone in tune to it) this may inspire. exit music (for a film) and THEN fucking, “let down” ?? cmon! that’s perfect! that’s a fucking send off!
by the time it got to the final verses, im nearly welling up with tears (as always) and i think, “oh man! both of those. funeral. hopefully, a full house, but you know… peeps fall off as i get older anyway, so really… i could be happy with 6 people there and these fucking songs blaring to the 6 people i somehow managed to not drive away. whatevs. im dead, man. what’s it matter?
then, fucking “karma police” starts and i think im onto something fucking divinci code about this part of the album, man. i dont know if i’d ever considered any of this previously, but all of a sudden im in that church in the divinci code hammering on the ground with the pole of a barrier of this fucking album. is that divinci code, or is that indiana jones last crusade? the velvet rope pole into the floor? karma police? after the escape and the flying and the funeral of what i’ve got going on? well, i’ve got to have karma police playing too! it speaks to my karmas and i picture how the end of the song falls apart with drum and static and swirl and i think oh man! YES! this could be a jam-ass funeral, playing all these songs back to back to back. the casket lowered just as the dirt is going over with that destruction bit at the end of “karma police”??! THATS a funeral man! BEST FUNERAL EVER!!
well, THEN fucking “fitter happier” comes on and i usually just change it… but guess fucking what? GUESS WHAT?? it fucking works with the theme man! so it’s going in too! pale and clean and sterile. that little fucking computer voice. tying into my kinda beliefs in the simulation theory. oh man! what a trip! yeah yeah! play into fitter happier for sure! thats how it’s got to end!
holy hell! just perfect! i thought! and i wondered what my consciousness is in those moments? you know, beyond our understanding. what is it then? where is it? how long does it linger. i read something the other day that said scientists say you may even hear when your heart has stopped, you may fucking hear the doctor call it and declare you dead!! what a fucking trip! so you dont fucking know, even when they call it! you dont know where the fuck or what the fuck is possible after the after. (afta afta)
so, could i PLEASE hear it all? if not see it? if not float around the room fucking seeing it? can i please at least hear it? and i pondered the beyong the beyond and i considered this race man. this drive into a place that isnt home and what the fuck am i doing, pausing my life every goddamn day in a commute and a push. how rushed and impersonal it makes me (us.) how urgent life is, how some of us are forced to skip that in lieu of attaining things we can call a life. how those things, arent a life at all. how its trading a true impermanence for temporary impermanence that we’re taught is happiness? happiness for who? when? fucking when though? how it pins us all, this way of life to not feeling alive where i (and maybe we) daydream of our funerals.
then the car in front of me, jammed on its brakes…
and i, jammed on my brakes…
and i chirped my tires to zip to a complete stop, in the fastlane… well within safe distances, front and back (and side to side) and my lunch had slid hurridly to the floorboard on the passenger side, well out of reach to even begin to salvage anything like some sort of hobo.
but we got moving again… and i smiled, ear to ear. and i turned off radiohead: ok computer, as we reached the computer voice pronouncing, “a pig. in a cage. on antibiotics.” and i listened to the wheels on the road the rest of the way. and in that smile, i understood.
i hate houston. and i hate driving. and you guys almost got a surprise invitation to come and listen to radiohead: ok computer. from “exit music (for a film)” to “fitter happier”
and maybe i’d be there too. maybe not. but you dont fucking know.