Getting out the door with someone who is 5 can take about 3 hours. No sweat, you only live once, unless you are totally deluded and expect some sort of forever real estate waiting in some sort of imaginary world where just because you were born with the capacity to think thoughts you feel like that entitles you to some sort of never ending existence. So she floats “we die?” Yes but you’ll first live for a long time. Will you die before me? Yes I’ll die before you. I’ll miss you when you’re dead. Don’t worry, we’ll know each other a long time but after I’m dead when you see the stars at night I’ll be one of them looking down at you. That’s good, you will be a star in the sky. Yep, the best kind of star. What other kinds of stars are there? Sometimes people call themselves stars but if someone calls themselves a star it is proof that they aren’t. I know. How did you know? Because they aren’t in the sky. Exactamungo, can we put your boots on?
Thinking on the children of my friend died in a car accident and my fantasy of knowing them when their old enough to appreciate me gushing about how much he meant and telling them stories, wanting to convey his sense of humour and intelligence and specialness. In that moment I might bring him back to life or so goes my fantasy but thinking harder it isn’t likely. Plus they moved to California. Might try to write a song about it, perchance in song the goals are achieved. A super power. DC comics needs to explore “Making Stuff Man” a super hero who makes song and fridge magnets.
Even though Trump is president and even though all over the world, (all over history) there have been people managing things who shouldn’t, sometimes people who really are good at something get a shot. A few songs placed in movies effect me like that. The Crying Game on so many levels marks of excellence and that song so enduring. I wonder how it came to be used as the title of the film and as a metaphor for the story of the film.