The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing But the Tooth
October 14, 2008, 5:26 am
Filed under: Rufus Wainwright, Uncategorized | Tags: ,

Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew and bump up against my own limitations, as happened when I declared Rufus Wainwright Month.  Pushing oneself to create is only fun until it’s not fun anymore, and that point came for me when I found myself way overtired and dealing with some minor medical issues.  The good news is that I had my mammogram last week and everything is A-OK in the boob department, so I don’t think we’re talking about cancer.  I do fear I may have a dental abcess that requires a root canal, and I need to address that asap.  I find often that I don’t have time to write until my daughter goes to bed, and if I’m under the weather, I just nod off at the keyboard.  It’s not a pretty sight, I assure you.

These past couple of weeks have been loads of fun, with the mammogram last week and a routine visit to the oncologist, who, as expected, gave me a hard time for missing a bone density test.  I’ve rescheduled it for Wednesday just to get it out of the way, but that means another two-hour trip on public transportation each way.  Whine, whine, whine, moan, moan, moan, I know.  Hey, I got stuck with needles three times today after waiting hours and hours for the privilege.  How ’boutchoo?

No, of course I’m not giving up.  I figure I’ve got at least two or three more pieces to write on this puppy, maybe even four.  But they’ll happen when they happen, and if that means more of you have to check in for your Intermittent Rufus Fix, so much the better.  In the meantime, I need to practice what I preach about not allowing these things to get worse than I need to.  I’m just so tired of being poked with needles, cut open, poisoned, burned, scanned, rectally invaded, peeing in containers, and having to drink barium.  Call me strange, but it’s just not fun anymore.  The Fentanyl and Vicodin are fine and dandy just like cotton candy, but the rest of it I can do without.

Those of you who’ve been hanging around for the Rufus, there is more of him to come.  I’m still debating whether or not to try and sneak a camera into Friday’s show, but I’m a bit worried that I’ll accidentally forget to turn my flash off and temporarily blind Rufus, at which point he would fall off the stage.  I would go down in infamy, like that guy who caught the foul ball when the Cubs were in the National League Championships and made them lose the game.  I may just opt to leave my camera at home and be in the moment, but we’ll see when Friday comes around.  In the meantime, there are places to go, people to see, dentists to call, bones to be scanned.


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I have been reading all of your blogs with great interest, and moved by your story of survival … so moved that I am actually speechless (or, type-less), because whatever I say/type will be banal and trite and unworthy of your courage and dignity. So instead I’ll stick to the Rufus side of things (which is of course another major tale of survival, and perhaps one of the reasons so many of his fans have their own stories to tell; we can relate to a fighter because so many of us are also fighters, in our own ways). But, whatever. I digress.

Now, about this camera thing. I was lucky enough to catch Rufus several times during the year — solo; with his touring band; and with a couple of special guests — and not once did I take a camera. Why?

1. There are so many other people out there who take much better photos than I, and are generous enough to share them on message boards, for all the world to see and enjoy (thank you people!!) 😉

2. I don’t want a machine to get in the way of my experience. I would rather see the performance first-hand — not second-hand, mediated through a contraption that forces me to see and understand things according to their frame, focus, depth of field, number of degrees Kelvin and so on. Because when I have a camera, instead of looking at the thing/event/person as a thing/event/person, I am looking at it as the photograph it is about to become. Instead of being in the moment, I am somehow beside it, observing it. And of course, while I’m zooming in on one aspect of the moment, all the other aspects pass me by.

3. I already have a couple of cameras on my face, and a reasonably reliable hard drive on which to download the images.

Of course, this is just my personal opinion. I certainly don’t mean to hassle, hector or harangue. If people want to take pics, that’s great — and everyone is different and everyone goes to gigs and stuff for different reasons. But I’m glad I didn’t take pics — instead, I took memories, and while they may not last as long as pics (or else, change over time; being constantly reinterpreted) they are somehow more three-dimensional… if you catch my drift.

Whatever you decide, have a truly memorable concert. You deserve it!! 🙂

Comment by Melampus

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