Love Is Strange by Sterling Bruce

Author:Sterling, Bruce [Sterling, Bruce]
Language: ita
Format: epub
Publisher: 40k
Published: 2012-12-22T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen: You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away

Gavin was pleased at the way his father had lost his temper. He hadn’t seen his dad in such a foot-stamping, 1968-style rant in quite a while. All that heat and fury was a sign that his father’s medication was helping him. His attack of radical fever was much better than his pallor, his grayness. His pathetic trembling.

Gavin scarcely minded that the old man was unloading a fury on him. That bullying could no longer touch him where he lived. Not any more — not after what he had been through in Capri. Gavin had been through an emotional upheaval so complete, so total, that this family bluster and hassle was almost homely. Reassuring, somehow.

There was something touching about his dad’s many grievances. His impossible, corny demands for peace, justice, effective government action and vast Apollo Program initiatives to reform whatever-it-was. The complete set of phantoms.

Gavin had already made up his mind about what would happen next. He already knew what had to happen.

He wasn’t even angry. Not any more. He was resolved. The spreadsheet of his life had added up.

Gavin took a long, jetlagged nap. To avoid any attack of sleepwalking, he played the early Beatles. He listened to “Rubber Soul” and “Help.” Old-fashioned music helped him. He slept well.

Gavin woke with dawn and drove his Volvo downtown, early, ahead of the traffic rush. Gavin had his traditional welcome-back-to-Seattle meal. The big oyster omelette over at the Pike’s Place Market. This patriotic ritual made Gavin feel at home.

Pike’s Place Market was a famous Seattle heritage site. It was a pretty, let’s-pretend-Seattle where everyone was still a lumberjack, or a salmon fisherman, or an anarchist dock-worker. Gavin had a favorite booth in the café with a great view of the gray-blue harbor. Also, the Pike’s Place oyster omelette was the greatest meal in the world.

The relic café was playing early Beatles on its jukebox. Gavin was unsurprised by this coincidence. If anything had “synchronicity,” then music had synchronicity. The Beatles were old men, and two of them were dead, but their music was not limited by their mortality. Wherever Beatles music was needed, there it appeared. Ghosting back into daylight with tremendous urgency.

Very young guys, these early Beatles. Tremendously skilled pop musicians. Their artistic gift was supernatural. What well-crafted songs jumping out of the dusty jukebox. Those songs had become global classics. People in Nepal and New Guinea got it about the Beatles. All of the skeptics were dead.

These four fabulous mop-tops had exactly one topic in their classic early songs. Women. The Beatles were young men trying to figure out women. Boy, were they having a tough time of that, too. Women in early Beatles songs were horrifying. The women in Beatles songs were mysterious, perverse, and senseless creatures, bearing nothing but heartbreak and misery for men. Love was in their eyes, but only yesterday, or the night before. Women in Beatles songs hired men to drive nonexistent cars. They gloated over their Norwegian wall paneling, and sent their men to sleep in bathtubs.

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