- Yes, I know the Muses are from Greek mythology. The thing is, I don’t really know any Greek music. I watched two-thirds of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” but I didn’t pay close attention to the music, and as it is, I doubt is was properly representative of the ancient Greeks. So with no musical foundation to build on there, my brain skips to the next section of the library it has materials for, namely Renaissance music.
And so we come to “Greensleeves,” a song about a guy who swears that he cares for his lady love, but doesn’t seem to know anything about her other than she dresses in green, and that she doesn’t seem to like him despite multiple verses. All things said and done, however, after all this clunky transition, this ode/pitiful plea to an unhearing lady seems more appropriate than a period piece.
Dear Muse,
Where the heck were you?
I waited all evening, pen in hand, notebook at the ready, waiting for you to arrive. I waited… and waited.
I resisted urges to go watch TV or fire up the CD player and consult another book. I was patient, I was true.
Where were you?
Can I speak honestly here? It’s been a bit hit or miss with you lately. I don’t mean to be cruel, but this standing me up is no longer just a rare occurrence.
I haven’t been keeping tallies. I’m not that kind of guy. Besides, one thing about not being inspired by you is that I don’t even have the energy to write down that I’m not inspired.
Yours has become a legacy of blank, unfilled pages. I spend time preparing for an evening together, clear my schedule of all possible distractions, and end up being left to spend the night by myself, lying next to a blank tablet, tracing designs on the ceiling with my eyeballs.
I know you’re not only devoted to me. I understood from the start you wanted an open relationship and I respected that. Jingles need to be written, marble needs to be carved into statues, graffiti needs to be scrawled and parked railroad cars. You are attentive to the varied needs of many people, and that is greatly laudable.
However, I’d like some respect in return. I have many needs that I need your help with. I have a blog, several short stories I am working on, and don’t even get me started on the unfinished/unstarted novels (though I will take the blame on the last points).
I know we’re not close enough that I can expect you to drop everything for my sake at a whim. Nevertheless, when we make a date in the future, and I have stated writing goals and everything, please show some common courtesy and arrive.
Or at least call ahead and say you aren’t coming.
I realize things were really lax when you first started out, togas and ivy laurels and all, but we’re progressed a bit since then and I would expect your efficiency to go up as well.
Thanks for letting me be so frank. I know such directness hurts sometimes, but that can be unavoidable when dealing with the truth. I hope you understand.
If you would be kind enough to show up on Tuesday night, I’d like to put some things to paper that have been circling around in my mental windmill for a while now. I hope to see you there.
Your ever devoted, albeit often beleaguered, devotee,
- Caleb
P.S. – While you’re out with other guys, can you do a better job whispering in ad executives’ ears? As a whole I think your output has been lacking in this area. I’m not asking for something like the Handel’s “Messiah” of car commercials or anything, but I’d be pleased with something simple that isn’t quite as insipid or irritating with repeated viewings as the current batch. Just thought I’d mention it. I still love your iPod commercials, though. That’s good work. Let’s see more like that. – CMS
