Category Archives: inspiration

A Really Short Story Inspired by the Song “I Will Survive” (by Gloria Gaynor and later a rather biting rendition by the band Cake)

Oh, it’s you.

Just stop right there, and don’t even think about crossing over my threshold. You’re not welcome here anymore.

And now I can’t believe you are giving me that look…that look like you can’t understand why…as if you have no idea what you’ve done…that ‘who me?’ look because you’re just as pure as the driven snow. Right?

No! Don’t speak! Don’t say a word. It’s no longer your time to say anything. You’ve said all you had to say before, which in the end wasn’t much at all. Empty, thoughtless, stupid words were all you knew…all you know.

You left me here. You left me in this purgatory. I thought I was going mad. What else was I to think? That’s exactly what happens when people go mad…what happened to me. What did you think I knew? You think I was on the inside? I told you I wasn’t. Did you think I knew their secrets…that I was a part of their party? I was alone. You knew that. But it didn’t stop you, did it? It didn’t make you more human and less simian.

I gave you a chance…no, I gave you every chance to prove that you were more…that you were better…that you were evolved. And each time, what happened? You didn’t change your ways. Each time you treated me as if I were your thing…your token in a monopoly game. Which one did you envision me as, the wheel barrow, the thimble, the scottie dog? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

And before you ask, no, it’s not just about Tootsie O’Toole who showed up at my door one day, waving that ring. The one you know I paid for, because without me you would have been a nobody. Laugh if you like, but you know that’s true even if you don’t have the guts to see it. You know a lot of things you’re not man enough to see.

I never did tell Old Toots the truth. What would be the point? She thinks you’re an American sheriff and those black licorice guns you carry are the real deal, but we know better…don’t we. We both know I’m the only sharp shooter around these parts.

The choices you made about me, didn’t you see them in the headlines? They were written there. You can’t make choices about me and not have them echo throughout this world. Those choices resounded in moments in time…words overhead…things spilling, falling, breaking, dying. Your choices were well recorded everywhere. And even when the Universe threatened to strike you down with, for God’s sake, lightning itself…even when it thundered and crashed right above your head…even with all that, still you held on to your fool’s cap like it was the Word of God. Nothing could shake you from that egotistical dream you made for yourself…that egotistical dream you made of yourself.

And now it’s too late…now that you see what happens when I pull out, it’s too late. And there are no do-overs in this world. You failed the test. That’s it. It’s done with, finished, kaput. The buzzer sounded and you didn’t have the right answer. You lost. Now, go! Go cry your heart out on Tootsie’s shoulder. And if things get real bad, you can always pawn that ring.

Please Pardon Me Don McLean

Today I found myself singing American Pie. (And I even know most of the words.) It has always been a song that in its despair and sadness somehow brought me hope and comfort. Sad songs do that. The blues is all about that. A voice in the darkness, pure and without judgement, saying “yes, what you are feeling is real, and no, you are not alone.” That is the magic of sad songs. They lighten the load.

But today, I became a little annoyed with this old friend. I thought, ‘I’ve had enough of singing this sad song that I have sung for so many years.’ So I took it upon myself to change the lyrics. So, please pardon me Don McLean while I revise your very brilliant song American Pie.

American Pie (revised for my own personal pleasure)

A long, long time ago
And I can still remember how that music came to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy a long while

And Springtime came and made me quiver
With every paper I’d deliver
Good news on the doorstep
I took so many steps

I can’t remember if I sighed
When I read about his brand new bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day Margaret Thatcher died

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

Did you write the book of love
And do you have faith in God above
If the Bible tells you so?
Now do you believe in rock and roll
Can music save your mortal soul
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with me
‘Cause we did go dancin’ in the sea
We both kicked off our shoes
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues

I was a happy teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
And I knew I was full of luck
The day Margaret Thatcher died

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss don’t grow on a rollin’ stone
And that’s just how it should be
As the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
And a voice that came from you and me

Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his phoney crown
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned

And while Lennon sang a song of love
A quartet practiced with a dove
And we sang of promise from above
The day Margaret Thatcher died

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

Ob-la-da in a Spring thaw
The birds flew off so full of awe
Eight miles high and flying fast
They landed softly on the grass
The players tried for a forward pass
With the jester laughing hard and laughing last

Now the halftime air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune
We all got up to dance
We finally got our chance

When the players tried to take the field
The marching band refused to yield
So everyone just danced with zeal
The day Margaret Thatcher died?

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

Oh, and there we were all in one place
A generation moving in space
Preparing ourselves to start again
So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack Flash put out that candlestick
‘Cause fire is the devil’s only friend

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage
This angel born in Hell
Could break that Satan’s spell

And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite
I saw Satan burn to my delight
The day Margaret Thatcher died

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I told her I had some happy news
She just smiled and changed her ways
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
And the man there said the music was here to stay

And in the streets, the children played
The lovers kissed and the poets swayed
For now the word was spoken
The church bells no longer broken

And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost
Their boat came in upon our coast
The day Margaret Thatcher died

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly
This’ll be the day that I fly”

[Chorus]
So hi-hi, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, ‘cause the levee is dry
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ “This’ll be the day that I fly”