I came across this CD at the library and it took me back to 17, when I played this album over and over. Looking back I realize how deeply these four tracks spoke to me, and that they were so influential on the path of my life as it has unfolded.
This music led me to a strong need for individual expression, to create art in all aspects of my being, and to Buddhist perspective of my own suffering and that of the world around me. This work uses the imagery of the American western mythos to convey so much of my yearning desire for a cure for the dismal prospects that modern life seemed to promise, the life of my Father; a family, a cycle of endless work to provide, collapsing evenings before the TV, if I’m lucky, but more likely to mama’s Honey do’s.
Finally of course, most men find they want nothing more, and satisfy the craving for freedom entirely by similar means as popular song. It is the quest for uncertainty that makes young men interesting and generally welcome in all company. This is not to say that young women do not feel and act on these motivations as well, but this is not my subject here.
It is a sad song, no mistake. Tragedy and young men go hand in glove; rooted in stubborn stupidity that sees a main stream approach to life or an unplanned pregnancy as jaws of a trap, not to be stepped into. In adopting an honorable outlaw path he feels at least it is his choice. And this is made sweeter when it is against all good advice.
The Queen of Diamonds represents that one, or thing that we chase after, but can never quite hold onto for long. In contrast the Queen of Hearts symbolizes the one, or thing that we are running from; family, employment, security. These seem to bind us to a life of conformity and a responsibility that will deny us our constant sorrow.
Although we continuously make the same mistakes so many men have made before us, we are drawn to carry on believing that we will be the one to penetrate the mystery that has eluded all others before us. Ignoring the advice our friends heap upon us. The thanks-but-no-thanks can be sweet.
The friendships of young men of kindred outlaw spirit tend to bond quickly and hold strong; but commonly part ways as their interests diverge. Instability is inherent to their condition, life is driven by circumstances. Money, women, drugs and alcohol are symptoms of their suffering rather than goals in themselves. We turn to them equally when feeling good or feeling bad; because at last the gnawing wanting in our gut makes both of these feelings seem just the same. This is the constant sorrow that feeds creativity in young men, and in turn generally feeds the cycle of our suffering. As a result of these numbed perceptions some young men may fall in with forces that lead to desperate actions, sometimes even those intent upon a conventional life path with no desire to become an outlaw.
Even in a broad open land like North America the road closes in when a young man is on the run. We feel death looming, it seems like our friend in comparison with so many apparent alternatives; take a job with your back and give all your time for sad money that cannot meet your purposes. How to have the fruit of your brain; College? Art? Hustle? Rackets? An honest young man in facing these alternatives may become capable of rash action, or may even fall in with hardened companions.
So like every western outlaw, each young man at last comes to his final showdown. The hardened outlaw so often is led to a fiery, violent end or to a long unhappy incarceration. But the desperado who cleaves with honor to his vision may find himself at last at the end of the path he set out on so long ago.
Sometimes our young man can wake to see his error, maybe made long back upon the road he finds his feet on now. Sadly some are filled with bitterness and cannot recall the good that he might derive from his experience. Some add it all up and is surprised to find he has surpassed the thing he has set out to achieve. With great good luck he may find it out in time to make his turnaround to a life he always dreamed of but never supposed he could reach.
So what? Can he change? Young men do ourselves-in, every day by our wicked ways. Feeling out of place everywhere, caring only for that clearly seen unknown thing inside ourselves, getting older, friends seem more and more hard to find. Dreams seem to slip like sand through our fingers; but always there is a tiny gleaming optimism.
Maybe tomorrow
Desperado
*****
