Five years amiss

There are milestones in life that we progressively tick off over time. These time-stones, if you will, gather momentum in the initial stages and then the intervals between 'stones' become progressively longer to only grow shorter again as the significance of the anniversary passes with the passing of the few remaining souls to whom the time-stone carry any real significance.

Confused?

Imagine celebrating a birth, both literally and figuratively such as a marriage or establishment of an institution to name just two. Year one is significant, followed with progressive importance by two, three, and four. The big milestone really is year five, then it is year 10, year 20, year 25, year 40, year 50, year 65, year 75, year 80, year 85, year 90, year 95, then finally year 100 – after which the cycle basically starts again.

The case is the same in birth as in death. Only in death the event is more solemn and more introspective.

Whatever happened?

Whatever happened to the guy we knew…
The little engine that could…
Sput, sput, sputter with a ne’er care in the world
The boy-man who repeatedly fell…
Either in love or on his ass? Or both?

Whatever happened to the guy we knew
The boy with the nazi salute…
The desert fox?
The boy-man with the golden heart?
Beat, beat, beats me why it doesn’t beat no more.

Whatever happened to that boy we knew?
The corporate guy with the suit of wool
You know, that guy with his Manhattan strut…
The guy who stood his ground on crutches
Perhaps you knew him better…
As that Yiddish New Yorker on Mercer Ave?

Whatever happened to that guy we knew…
That guy hidden behind all that cigarette (?) smoke…
That dude who inhaled deep and never let go?
The boy-man with a point to prove.
You know, chicken little who cried for help?

Whatever happened to that guy we knew…
You know, that guy with a brick wall of attitude.
That dude who spoke but listened not
To anyone who cared to tell him who, when or what.
I’m sure you’d know whom I mean...
Even if you had met him once.

Whatever happened to the guy we knew
The one who sometimes tried too hard
The educator of men
The boy who cared as deep as he dared.
Perhaps you knew him as the wayward guy
With bills to pay...

Whatever happened to that guy we knew
That simpleton who basked in glory?
The man with a cannon
Or so he said
That rumbling sound, that something you just can’t forget
The man who got under your skin
But you liked it that way.

Ah hah, that man you simply couldn’t put down
But despised with all your heart… for most of a minute.
Who know whom I mean…
That man, that child, that wicked, wicked guy
Who would just leave without a goodbye.

The one who was always there but behind the scenes
Behind the shadows, behind the trees
The dude-man, the nigger-hater
If I could only put a name…
A guttu, a goots, a gutiere

What does it all mean?
A name to love, but hate to love as well.
It seems that this guy had one more trick.
Ne’er one to stay too near
An arm’s length was a safe bet
He rolled a joint, and rolled away…
This time a bit too far out of reach.

Whatever happened to that guy we knew…
Whatever I am hearing, is it true?
Has the desert fox deserted us all?
The news I hear on silenced lips…
Whisper his fate
Which brings me to ask
Whatever happened to happy endings?

In Memory of:
Syed Nahoum Ali
December 26, 1971- August 25, 2007