ALL
THE
SAD
SONGS
By Ken Bruen
Everyone has a sad story
How the world goes round
I’m not claiming this is the saddest one but it is the one I just heard
Two days ago, when I was not at me most convivial
I love that word…………….convivial
And maybe one day, I’ll learn to spell it
I was sitting in me favorite café, looks out on the water and I was doing what I do best
…………………….yearn
For what…………….who knows
Since me marriage broke up, I’m more than ever inclined to the razor blade music, the
sadder the song, the happier I am
I was listening to me MP3……………sent to me by Craig Mc Donald (Art in the Blood,
Head games, Rogue Males)
And hit on Lorena Mc Kenna……………..Raglan Road…………..God, what a song
And worse, a great friend of mine, Gretchen Peters, lives in Nashville (not far from the gorgeous Tasha Alexander), has written the ultimate end of relationship
song………………BREAKFAST IN OUR HOUSE
Jesus wept, when you both know it’s over and yet………cos you like have history and
she sings, like every awful moment you’ve ever had when you tried like fook to save it
and couldn’t
Barry Walsh plays the most beautiful back up bass you’ve ever heard and best of all,
Gretchen has found real love again and I’m……………ok………….screw it, I’m jealous
I was telling a female friend about this and she was stunned, went
“Guys think like that?”
Shite, I dunno, I only know that’s what I felt and she goes
“But you’re that hard arse, the hardboiled guy”
I apologized, said…………I’d lost the run of meself but hey, not to worry, I’d be fooking
granite tomorrow
Thing is, I had lost the run of meself and had met someone……………..and horrors, she
dumped me, in like jig time, cos I hadn’t been the person she’d read about
Then I’m sipping me expresso……………yeah, dark, bitter and a guy comes up, goes
Talk to you a minute?
Sure
He goes
“You know Cathleen?"
“Sure.”
Known her most of me battered life
A good girl, in the Irish sense, she’d lend you a few quid if you were stuck and
never………….and I mean……………never………expect it back
She was the one who knew, she heard me little girl had Down Syndrome, said
“Life is a hoor.”
So, I regard her as …….family
He goes
“I left her, met me a 20 year old student.”
I’m thinking
“Where’s me fooking hurly when I need it?”
And he goes
“Cathleen didn’t turn me on any more.”
I’m fookin outraged, spittin iron
I look at him, forty-five, balding, a pot belly, a weak mouth and real bad eyes and
GOD FORBID……………….GOD FOOKIN FORBID…………..he isn’t turned on
I’m so angry, I could spit
He asks
“So, cara, what do you think?”
I take nine deep breaths, let it slow, like bad poetry and say
“I think……………..I think you should get a long rope……………”
And then I stop………..Jesus on a bike, what do I know………….I get up, brush past him and go and feed the swans, me blood biling
I think
“I have Steve Mosby’s book, Jerry Rodriguez’s book, and Nick Stone’s brilliant sequel
waiting at home for me, not to even mention emails from Sandra, Craig, Duane, Laura L.
The Rabbi, Jason………..and The Big O………..so, like, how am I hurting?
And Ruth Jordan sent me a lovely email yesterday…………..so, what’s the matter with me, as Charlie Stella would say
There’s a hooded guy sitting on a bench, maybe 18, coming off a glue or speed jag and
his radio is playing, Shane Mc Gowan and Moira Brennan, with
“You’re the one”
Killer song
Killing him and me…………..I’m kinda used to sad songs
I move away and a local from the Claddagh asks, rather shouts
“The fook happened to your hair?”
I want to say
“Life”
But jaysus, that’s a bit too deep, even for Galway
Oh, yike, when Ken starts with: “Everyone has a sad story”…
I was afraid to even read the post.
Once again, you broke my heart. I’m wise to your MO now, though. You break hearts to open them.
I don’t have the slightest doubt that you’re still in for the love of your life. I have too much faith in the universe not to believe that.
But enough with these women who only want the tough guy – they’re BLIND.
Ken,
Another amazing heartfelt post.
You should be the poet laureate of Ireland.
Few can capture the joy and tragedy of life like you do.
“I look at him, forty-five, balding, a pot belly, a weak mouth and real bad eyes and …”
I think … Donald Trump, actually having the gall to call someone else unattractive.
Jaysus, indeed.
Ken, you are too kind to me, as always.
Heartbreaking post. Alex is right. You’re going to find the love of your life. You won’t settle for simple comfort–you’ll wait for the person most people assume they’ll never find, and boy will it be worth it.
You’d better invite me to the wedding!
xo
I’m glad that you didn’t give that 45-year-old jerk the time of day. (I have a 45-year-old man, too, but he’s cut from your same cloth–hard-boiled on the outside, sensitive on the inside.)
Lorena McKenna can be such a salve. We saw ONCE yesterday–a great movie about love.
Getting tired of your posts–they’re too damn short; get into them, only to have to re-read one of your novels or a bunch of your short to carry the high, or, as one R. G. Browne might say, to get past the foreplay to the BIG O!
You allowed a book-length post?
It’s amazing how we can be sad with all the people who love us around. The ghosts, too. Tap it, Ken. No one can put it into words as beautifully as you. And then you can smile.xo
Pure poetry.
Book length post? What? We’d all be weeping in our malts – and then who the hell would carry us out?
I read this before going off to work early in the AM. Big mistake. Was hanging my head all day.
“I think……………..I think you should get a long rope……………”
Man, I wish I could say that to someone then walk away without another word.
Thank you, Ken, for such heart.
Hmm. I think it could be a case of mistyped orders for soulmates. What probably happened is that someone doing your profile read, “loves cool, rainy weather, green landscapes, close to the ocean, bogs, etc” under place to live. When they typed in that of your soulmate, they were in a hurry. Unable to think of the right word, they had an impression of humidity and something to do with water and typed in the word, “bayou” instead of “bog.”
Your soulmate is probably in Houston, Texas sweltering in the humid, hot as hell climate, while you’re in Ireland, where I hear it occasionally gets colder than a well-digger’s bum.
Of course, the typist might have subbed in the word “swamp” in which case your soulmate could be somewhere in the southern US, but it’s still hot as hell.
:>)