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Tuesday, August 27, 2013

4 Years

It has been 4 years today since our dear friend Chris took his life.  1 week & 1 day before his birthday – I honestly can’t remember how old he was then, but I’d guess it was just shy of his 45th or 46th birthday. 

I've been thinking a lot about how despite being good friends, how fleeting our relationship really was.  How much time do you need to spend with someone before you truly know them?  How well do you know anyone really?  I guess it’s fair to say I’m feeling a little melancholy; even more so after reading back over what I wrote back then.  

I wish I had something profound to say, but really while mostly I've achieved closure I’m still incredibly sad for him; for his family, for his friends.  Instead I’ll play some Tom Waits & leave you with the lyrics of the tune that reminds me of Hootch.  RIP mate.  You are truly missed.

TOM WAITS

"Tom Traubert's Blues"

Wasted and wounded, it ain't what the moon did, I've got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me
I'm an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks English, and everything's broken, and my Stacys are soaking wet
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now the dogs are barking and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open,
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old Bushmill's I staggered, you'd bury the dagger
In your silhouette window light go
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

Now I lost my Saint Christopher now that I've kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
And the maverick Chinamen, and the cold-blooded signs,
And the girls down by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me
No, I don't want your sympathy, the fugitives say
That the streets aren't for dreaming now
And manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
They want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And you can ask any sailor, and the keys from the jailor,
And the old men in wheelchairs know
And Mathilda's the defendant, she killed about a hundred,
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda,
You'll go waltzing Mathilda with me

And it's a battered old suitcase to a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donna, the perfume is on an
Old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen flame keepers
And goodnight to Mathilda, too

6 comments:

Memphis Steve said...

I remember when Blogger Suzanne White killed herself. She lived a short ways from here and we had talked about me coming down to visit her. I knew she was depressed and dealing with some terrible stress, but I never did get around to visiting. And then it was too late. She killed herself on Christmas day/Christmas Eve midnight. I'll never forget that.

AlleyCat said...

Sorry to hear this Steve. I'd have given anything to just hang out with Hootch one last time :0(

Chris H said...

I can remember way back then when he took his life. Such a devastating move on his part, I hope his friends and family are slowly coming to terms with it.
Bex's Dad did the same thing in early December last year. She is doing so well now, counselling has helped her heaps.

AlleyCat said...

Thanks Chris. I really feel for Bex.......

Ute said...

Aw, sorry lovely. Thinking of you. <3

AlleyCat said...

Thanks Uteski!