Friday, March 1, 2013

Harvey Keitel

Did I ever tell you about my love affair with Harvey Keitel? Oh dear god I was so madly in love with the young Harvey after seeing mean Streets and Who’s That Knocking At My Door. His beautiful white skin and dark hair, the way he looked in a suit, with a pinkie ring. I loved the sound of his name. Keitel. He killed me.
I went to the Thalia alone to see a screening of the Duelist, that’s how crazy I was. I befriended other people who loved Mean Streets so we could talk about the scenes and say lines of dialogue to each other. I even tried to work out the dilemma of how we could ever have a relationship with me carrying the burden of being in obsession. I did not want to scare the guy, with my illogical love. I knew that we would never be equals in a relationship, and that any relationship based on one person’s obsession was doomed. But maybe if I thought about it long enough I could come up with a solution so that we could live happily ever after. And then I met him.

He was fine, nice, lovely. But he made a comment about a friend of mine, nothing terrible, he just said “nice hair”, which he did not mean. The light remark turned me off to the point of the obsession ending right there. He was different than the imaginary person I so loved. Weird, I know. I am not a big fan of celebrities. I am not a stalker, or mentally ill, I just did not know how to deal with feelings and they came out sideways, in obsession. It could have been anyone. It just happened to be Harvey.

Anyway, all that was over a quarter of a century ago and in the famous words of Woody Allen, “Tragedy plus time equals comedy.”

What the story reminds me of today is that external validation is meaningless. It is not always all that great to be the muse, the chick the song is about, the subject of the story, the subject of a great review, or the subject of great attention. It is like when a selfish person finally turns their attention to you and it feels so great, such a bright light shining on you, but then it gets taken away again. It will always get taken away again. I have had it taken from me many times, and, as I have written here, I have taken it away from others without rhyme or reason. If you buy into the external, you will have to deal with the shitty fall out. It’s like taking drugs to feel good, but then there is always the comedown. I write these silly stories about my past and they are filled with really strong energies towards different individuals who I really did not even know. They were my greatest teachers not because of who they were, but because of who I was. Thank you teachers!

It is all an inside job, this life journey we are on. Even with true true love, it is an inside job.

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