facing a fear

Most of my life, I have run screaming from the song Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphey. I don’t know what happened to Mr. Murphy to make him write such a sad fuck of a song, but I hope he has gotten therapy since. Or maybe he’s just a sadist. I hated it when that song came on the radio when I was a kid. It – invariably – made me cry. I have a very distinct memory of sitting in the backseat of my parents’ car in my grandparents’ driveway trying to suck back the tears and hoping that no one would notice how tragically uncool I was to be so affected by such a sappy song.

As an adult who has some control over the radio, I always change the station when I hear the first tinkling of that song. Until today. I guess I was feeling empowered, being on the way to the gym, so I let the song play. Hadn’t actually heard Wildfire all the way through since childhood, and I was happy to find that it didn’t get me in the gut like it used to. Okay, so my eyes got a little moist. But no tears. An accomplishment. I’m glad I tuned my radio to the country classics station today. I was hoping for some Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson. Instead, I faced a childhood fear. And as soon as it was over, I played a different Michael (McDonald) to provide a bit of an aural palette cleansing before putting on the old school rap I listen to while exercising. Now if I could just figure out how to deal with my fear of large bugs…

(unrelated) Over on facebook, it’s “post your celebrity doppelganger” week. The thing is, most (not all) of the people who are posting their more famous “twin” are choosing people who are…how to put this delicately…much more attractive than they are. As would be the case if I posted mine, which is why I won’t.