GarpsWorld

The first time I met you, before I was smitten, I thought you might be retarded. What did I know at eighteen?  Self absorbed and preoccupied with my own ego and wood, I was oblivious to grace and inner beauty.

And that would be my loss and the end of our story. What happened next after college transpired a good twenty years, with marriage and children. And love betrayed us both.

Life can be funny in a curious and puzzling way. Love can be confused with hatred and pain.

I despise you so much with all my love, and it breaks my heart profoundly.

When you connect with someone, what does that mean? Is it the soul’s recognition of a kindred spirit or a base, human temporal need? The eyes more often than not give it away.  And yet we are all human and desperately want to believe in something bigger and more lasting if not eternal.

I am not a wise man. I am all too human with frailties in abundance.  And yet, I have a belief in the strength of my core and for what could be, even in that which eludes me.

I came into this world, not quite comfortable with my own skin. At times I have felt like the perpetual orphan or nomad or even a ghost, separate from this body and hovering above it, above and beyond the clouds where my dreams remain pristine and untouched.

Thanksgiving is upon us. There are things I am happy for, but many things still unsettled. There is yet much uncertainty on so many levels.

Five years ago, I was a different man, in a different place between two worlds and two families, both one in my heart. It is still me inside this skin, but there is more clarity.

And still my worlds are apart.

I started playing basketball again. I am not sure why. This was a major part of me for most of my life. At this stage, a ten year absence is too long – and much too demanding, physically. Tennis suits me now. I can play two to three hours without a problem. Hoops, maybe an hour, plus change. But if I lay around on the couch for too long, I cannot get up without being stiff and sore.

Life is funny that way.

I write constantly. It has become like breathing to me even though much of it is nonsense. I never write about work. Not that it is not of value to me, it is. I suppose eight to ten hours a day is more than enough. There is satisfaction, but it is not what drives me. Not really.

So what drives me?

I suppose it is important for me to have both the left and right side of my brain working; to feel like I have integrity in truth, in love and even in pain.

And to have a faith that one day my heart and my worlds will be whole again. And if it’s not too much to ask, that my three point jumper should return.

1.5 stars

The premise of Pirate Radio has the good people of the United Kingdom deprived of rock and roll music on the airwaves during one of the great periods in rock, which produced the likes of The Beatles, Rolling Stones and The Who, among countless others. To remedy the situation, a band of renegade DJ’s take to broadcasting rock music on a boat from the ocean without the censorship and other control or interference from the government. With the philosophy of bringing the people what they want, this band of men likens themselves to outlaw pirates of rock and roll.

Pirate radio

Given the rich wealth of music during this period, one might guess this production to be a pretty good bet for a successful and entertaining motion picture. And one would be wrong. Under the direction of Richard Curtis (Love Actually, Bridget Jones, Four Weddings and A Funeral), the film is yet another tiresome ensemble piece where the characters overshadow the music. Among the DJs the cast includes Philip Seymour Hoffman, Rhys Ifans, Nick Frost, and Kenneth Branagh, as an over-the-top dictatorial government bureaucrat determined to put an end to the rebellion on the high seas.

Pirates

The pirates carry-on like Animal House fratboys, playing hooky from school and talking up a big game of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Their bark is worse than their bite, and which is the greater crime, they ruin the music by chatting over it; having too much fun with the idea that they are somehow rebel stewards of freedom, dressed up like the cast of Sergeant Peppers. This was a time when rock music really did take a life of its own and impacted people’s lives in various and profound ways. This was not a time of the big mouthed, annoying DJ. These guys are glam, mod posers and annoying at that. The tracks are accompanied by a montage of Britons dancing at home, work and school. There is very little at all that rings true in this film. I really wanted to like it. I love the music of this period, but hated this film. My guess is this picture would have been better in the hands of Cameron Crowe (Almost Famous) or Richard Linklater (School of Rock). At least they would have taken the music seriously. Buy the soundtrack instead, or listed to your own dusted up vinyl LP’s. But for the love of God, skip this mess.

MPAA Rating: R