Occasionally, during our long hard period of not getting along, my mother said -- in cryptically guarded or cryptically unguarded -- I'm unclear -- moments -- that she admired and was envious that I had never lost a friend.
The admission surprised me because even though she was correct (then), I never believed my mother paid any attention to things beyond herself and my father and certainly not to me.
This was years ago. At this point, I’ve lost a small multitude of citizens I once regarded as friends. To state things more precisely, I think they decided to lose me.
Now I have a better, if smaller, family, and they and those friends I've somehow retained are precious to me. The circle is more wedding ring than tennis ball or hula hoop size and circumference, but it is quality that counts.
Pathetic to mention, but sometimes I contemplate that majestic/bathetic Badfinger song“Without You”and I want to retitle it“Without Me,”adjusting Pete Ham's lyrics and revising and reversing his story and intentions. Advancing age and Obama's economy have authored a period of utter personal savagery generally and among my peers especially. As Graham Greene wrote, “It’s A Battlefield." The hoi polloi have taken the scrum scouring corpses and vandalizing dental work.
The old me never knew, never imagined. My mother twigged all of it, the whole ball of wax, a long time ago. She said, and I’ve freaked out several shrinks relating this:
“Don’t trust anyone – not even me.”
Can you believe it?
Bruce Nauman Art
