Don’t Change

 

Mikki - Blurred

 

In 1983 or ’84 – I don’t remember which – I was in an elevator, riding to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago. How I wound up there is basic: family vacation. I was a teenager in high school and family vay-cays were part of the drill. (I may or may not have been wasted. I honestly don’t remember.)

 

But I digress… Those elevators were freaking fast, even then. But I still had time to read the back of the t-shirt of one of my fellow Sears Tower elevator riders. It was from a concert tour: INXS. And there were the full lyrics (or so I assumed), to “Don’t Change.” Despite the lift’s speed, I was able to read all the text on that t-shirt’s back, the complete lyrics to a song I’d never heard by a band I didn’t know.

 

Cut to last night. I was watching “120 Minutes” on the MTV and the video for “Don’t Change” came on. (I may or may have been wasted. I honestly don’t care to tell you.) In the video, those baby-faced INXS mates looked as young as I probably did when I stood in that elevator reading the back of that stranger’s shirt, all those years ago. And the lyrics were as fabulous last night as they were then .

 

I think I’m molting, friends. At least that’s the pleasant way I’m choosing to see it. And shedding one’s skin to make way for growth is absolutely wonderful. But don’t kid yourself. There will always be parts of you that remain. And those parts are a gift from all the gods. Maybe it’s watching the end of “Romper Room” and waiting in vain to hear your name called as the sweet lady host looks in her mirror and announces the names of all she can see. Maybe it’s running to secure a seat during your very first concert at a general admission venue (Blondie, by the way), and your best friend losing one of her shoes and you yelling, “Leave it!” while tugging at her hand. Or maybe it’s an elevator ride, and liquid poetry that stays with you for all time, since before you heard its tune. There are parts of us that endure, no matter what.

 

And honestly, would you really want to change those parts of yourself?

 

Me, neither.

 

Mikki in Party Mode

Heaven Help Me

 

 

 

I live in the United States of America. It ain’t perfect, and I don’t pretend it is. And while I am American, I happen to love, love, love the world. I travel when I can and I try to learn about what goes on around the globe. America may be my home, but I hope to live as a citizen of the world. Don’t know why I felt a need to go into all that, but I did, so there.

 

Anyhoo – because I endeavor to be a somewhat responsible citizen, I do things like – oh, I don’t know – vote. And while it would be super-duper easy to vote along party lines… Actually – I can’t make that claim as I’m a registered independent. So let me be clearer. It would be easy to pick a stance and go with that. But I don’t work that way. No. I have to study the people, the viewpoints, the propositions, the hoo-doo and the hullabaloo before I make choices. And that, friends, while certainly a privilege, can also be a real pain in the ass.

 

The 2016 presidential race has begun (a long, long, time ago), and that means I am now watching debates. (“Debates” is a bit of a stretch, though, truth be told.) Last night’s debates reminded me of an MTV episode of “TRL” more than anything else. The way I saw it, there was no class and nothing resembling decorum, neither on the stage nor in the audience, and certainly not at the desk of the moderators. I mean – I’m a know-nothing hick and I at least know how a debate is supposed to look. What the hell?

 

I have about a jillion more debates to go before November of 2016. And – heaven help me – I pray they get better. Or at least more respectful. But who am I kidding? I should just face what’s coming and accept that my eyes are perilously close to getting stuck in roll-mode.