Who is she? Well, I thought I knew her. "But" more importantly, in the words of the old Don Williams song: "she never knew me, no she never knew me….she never knew me at all." Simply, she wasn't The G.G. in the G.
But she is still out there. The Safaris' "Image of A Girl" tells the timeless tale. This more than half century old recording of the rock'n roll ballad of inchoate longing for young love is really but a greener shoot of an older, wandering vine yet seeking to enclasp its tendrills with those of another living, twining and perhaps pining essence. Corny? Yeah, well life is corny, even cornier than Kansas in August. To belabor a metaphor, seems all my kernels have popped and even some generals have been busted. A "butt" private was explained to me once as such a lowly soldier that his chief duty was to clean up a barracks by picking up and discarding cigarette butts. Humility can be a good thing. There is dignity in all work. If clock watching becomes irresistible, whether for the sake of learning how imminent a soldier's hour of "off duty" may be or 2013's birth has become, or even as the rhythmic reminder (like the Safaris' very sad, insistent metronome) of a perhaps now forlorn hope of meeting The Gal, then do not flinch from your inclination. The future is coming; it's neither friend nor foe, but our fate: that of one and all. Remember, her smile never fails: fear not that, at the very least. It is by definition, beaming and bright like the stars who call her mistress. Whether I find her or not, she is waiting. Her kindness and beauty, irrespective of my destiny, are worth all the travails and all the misunderstandings of this pilgrimage. She is bejeweled in a diaphanous gown, zephyrs coaxing persistently, causing ripples of the fabric to begin their dance and unseen choruses to chant lovely melodies in loving salute to The Gal. Love the Gal: relinquish all your goals, those quests and grails you imagined as holy. She knows you, in time or out of time. Do not presume, yet do not despair. It is a gentle universe after all (or so I have convinced myself). Why would such a locality as our Galaxy be not also a soother of the injured and have for its queen a healer par excellence?
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