(I saw this place in person yesterday, but Aaron Rose's picture of it from his early summer blog is better than mine, so I am swiping it.)
And so we are walking along the ocean beach, towards the sunset, talking about something neither of us probably intended to get on the topic of in the first place. I'm trying to casually explain the pessimism I have, a sort of atheism of romance. I do not remember the exact wording, but it was something emphatic and declarative along the lines of: "I don't believe in romantic love or marriage anymore. I think romance is bullshit."
Like the fairy tale kind of romance he says, half agreeing, half clarifying.
"No, like, all romance. It's mythology..."
I stop myself there, since GEE it's kind of a bummer to go an anti-sentimental hate scree amidst a second date. Nevertheless, the jig is up, there is no masking that my heart has been replaced by a finely crafted ice-carved Viking ship.
This morning on the way home from the airport, in the back of the cab that smelled like someone had freshly painted the inside of it with a thick coat of Love's Baby Soft or another teenage girl perfume, I got stuck on Love Dog for a four or five-peat. I was trying not to barf, the window was all the way down and it was pouring like it was when I left.
I was staring into the other cabs stuck in gapers delay on 94 trying to itemize what I believe in.
The redemptive power of music.
Or maybe just those electric piano bells at the beginning of this song.
god (on a good day).
Knowledge of those is enough to hold down the viking ship for now, I think.Posted by jessica hopper at September 29, 2008 05:39 PM | TrackBack