The Subterranean Circus Grand Reunion, scheduled for May 7, 2022 in Gainesville, is many things to many people. To all of us it is a celebration of the counterculture era from the mid-1960s through the 70s, a recollection of our lives then, a remembrance of youthful ideals, transformative music and the people who marched with us through the marijuana fog, the incense clouds and, now and then, the tear gas.
For most, it was an exuberant train ride through Adolescence where we sorted out the facts from the fiction, the gold from the pyrite, the friends from the pretenders. It was the time dreams began, plans were made, a time when anything was possible. We had, after all, broken from many ill-conceived notions of the past, set a new course, strove for the moral high ground and we were determined to keep the faith. We took new names from the solar system, from our natural surroundings, from information gleaned on LSD chariot rides.
For many, it was the first flush of true romance, the discovery of a being or beings we probably didn’t deserve but chose to pursue anyway. We believed in Magic, in the possibility of soulmates, in forever and ever, amen. We married in forests, on the beach at sunrise, at Grateful Dead concerts, united by semi-legal ministers of internet churches. The Beatles were right for awhile---all we needed was Love.
As time passed, alas, some of us lost our way. Life grew hard, promises were not kept, bonds once thought eternal dissolved in the rigors of the day. We woke up to discover our one-time soulmates gone, our spirits crushed, our lives ruined. It turned out Love was not all we needed after all. We learned from our mistakes and did better next time. The Sun rose in the east again. Balance was restored. We’d think about them now and then, though, those lost loves. Wondering where they were, what they were doing, hoping they were happy and whole. What a miracle it would be if we could see them again---just once---to say what we had to say. And now, on May 7 of next year, we finally can.
The Last Tango In Gainesville
Many of us, by dint of good planning, dumb luck or the law of averages, have reached our alleged golden years with loyal partners. A few of us are content to tolerate one another because the alternative is too awful to contemplate. But Life is a harsh taskmaster and many others have arrived at the depot alone, diminished by the loss of a partner to illness, or bad fortune. For every person who swears they love being alone there are twenty looking for another ride on the magic carpet, even if it is a little frayed. At our age, it’s a bit unseemly (and not too productive) to be searching for partners in bars, the options at church are a little too nice for us and we can’t seem to get the hang of computer dating, so we stay home and cry in our beer. In the old days, you could climb up on that carousel and try for the brass ring but you may have noticed carousels are in short supply these days. If only there was a genie in a bottle and we could get one wish!
Well, guess what? That genie has arrived, with bells on. Just for you, he’s created The Last Tango in Gainesville, a treasure trove of opportunity amidst good feelings, the power of nostalgia and the possibility of physical and mental mood elevators. One enchanted evening, you may see a stranger across a crowded field. And somehow you’ll know, you’ll know even then, that somehow you’ll see her/him again and again. Mazel tov.
When You Are Old (by William Butler Yeats)
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Soulmates
“My soulmate is out there somewhere, pushing on a pull door….I just know it.”---Anonymous
According to a 2017 Valentine’s Day poll from the Monmouth University Polling Institute, two out of three Americans believe in the concept of a soulmate. 35% are completely sold on it and another 31% are sort of convinced. The paradox here is that people who are deeply invested in the notion of a romantic soulmate are actually more likely to break up says Gary Lewandowski, a psychology professor and one of the designers of the poll. “They expect more, they think it should be easy and they aren’t very resilient when they hit a rough patch. After all, this is my soulmate….but then again, maybe it isn’t.” And off they go, looking for the true soulmate who’s still out there.
So what is a soulmate, anyway? Obviously, your satisfaction with this creature will vary according to your definition of the term. Some people think of their soulmate as The One, that single person in the universe you are fated to merge with come Hell or high water. If your soulmate is on the other side of the Alps, he or she will eventually ski their way to the Zurich International Airport, be detained by an errant passenger on the way to Phoenix and put down unexpectedly in your home town of Pfleugerville, where you’ll be working in the airport donut shop. Or maybe you’ll be studying a relief map of the Orinoco one day and feel a strong compulsion to visit Puerto Ayacucho, where a tall, dark stranger who works in drainage maintenance at the Hotel Santa Rosa awaits. Romance novels lead us to believe this sort of thing happens all the time. Maybe it will happen to you.
But maybe finding a soulmate is not guaranteed. Perhaps you have to forage for one, muck your way through the Swamp of Phonies, try and fail a few times before the Anointed One shows up. Here’s a tip; your soulmate doesn’t have to look like Paul Newman or Katherine Hepburn to qualify. After all, you don’t, and you consider yourself soulmate material, right? Here’s another one; nobody’s perfect. If you abandon ship at the first hint of disappointment, you’re going to spend a lot of time in the shallows.
If, on the other hand, if you consider a soulmate to be a person ideally suited to yourself in temperament, values and aspirations, you’re on your way to the ballgame. You can work on the small stuff---things like where to live, how many hamsters to keep and who gets to be on top---as you go along. While just 9% of survey respondents say both partners in an ideal relationship should be very similar, a whopping 52% think they should be somewhat similar. This makes sense. After all, whoever thought Lyle Lovett and Julia Roberts made any sense?
Lewandowski asked couples who had been together over 15 years why their relationship lasted. The top reason was that their partner was also their best friend. 78% said their ideal partner made decisions with their head rather than their gut, was equally or more intelligent than they were and was logical and emotionally stable. “Obviously, intelligent partners have more to offer,” said Lewandowski. Women and men were equally likely to be extremely satisfied in their current relationships.
“It’s a nice romantic notion, but believing in soulmates isn’t necessarily ideal for your relationship,” said Lewandowski. “The research indicates that those who believe in soulmates and destiny are more likely to break up. On the other hand, those who believe that relationships grow over time have more stable relationships and are better at dealing with conflict.”
Ain’t that just like a scientist---always raining on some romantic’s parade.
Bryan and I both live in a Philadelphia neighborhood full of grandfathered-in dive bars patronized by old Italian dudes who toke cigars and call you “angel face.” I met Bryan at my favorite haunt via the bartender with whom I’d had a short-lived fling. Bryan was his best bud. One night after last call, we all stumbled back to the bartender’s house, where he soon crashed. Bryan and I stayed up for hours on the front porch talking, the start of a new relationship. Not long afterward, we surprised the bartender by showing up in his place as a new couple.
Fast forward one month. I was biking to a Planned Parenthood appointment when a delivery truck took a sharp right into the bike lane and creamed me. Knocked me off my bike and crunched over my lower body. The truck tires shattered my hips, ribs and foot, leaving me crumpled on the road. I was lucid enough to remember it all---the blase young driver who got out of the truck and told me he thought he hit a curb (that was me, moron), the sweet old South Philly dude who simply held my hand and didn’t say much, and the flurry of bystanders, police, surgeons and doctors who swam in and out of my vision from the scene of the accident all the way to the trauma unit.
One state away, Bryan was at work, completely unaware that his role in our relationship was about to shift from boyfriend to caregiver. Some people quickly bail under the circumstances, but Bryan jumped right in and took care of me during a terribly scary time for me. He was so selfless and tender that I start to cry a little every time I look back. He never thought twice about his role, morphing from my date for dinners and movies to the guy who changed my bedpan and gave me sponge baths. It never phased him one bit. In a situation that would have sent many a new suitor flying, Bryan stuck around.
He slept multiple nights in a row next to my hospital bed in one of those awful chairs, a hand-hold’s distance away for when my pain got bad. He snuck in my favorite snacks from the outside world to spare me from hospital food. He cooked warm meals for my family and me, transporting precarious stacks of Tupperware by bike to the hospital. He surprised me with pretty nail polish, sat at the foot of the bed and painted my toenails because i couldn’t do it myself. By doing all this so graciously, Bryan taught me a Really Big Thing about love: the true kind is completely, utterly, entirely selfless. I mean, this guy carried bedpans without complaint for months. That’s Love, brother, with a capital “L.”
Finally, it was time to head back home to my parents’ house in the suburbs for recovery. I’d been missing Philly like crazy so on Valentine’s Day Bryan biked around the city and took pictures of all our favorite places---bars, restaurants where we had our first dates, our apartments. To anyone else, they would have looked like a random, meaningless collection of urban shots but to me they were exciting and nostalgic, and I flipped through them constantly.
I’m healed now and able to pursue adventures with Bryan I had earlier thought might not be possible. We’re as close as a couple can be and I have no questions about the quality of my partner. I think we’ll be together until we’re two little old people eating Spam. When you first meet, you wonder what’s inside this guy? It didn’t take me long to learn about Bryan. Too bad I had to get hit by a truck to find out.
That’s all, folks….
