“♫…please don’t let me be misunderstood.” I always liked that Animals song. I thought it should be redone with more…I dunno…power. Maybe it has been. I dunno. I don’t get out much. Maybe its message has no power anymore. At the time that it was popular, it was a bit of an anthem. It seemed everyone misunderstood everyone else. Blacks/whites-left/right…Vietnamese…Cubans…Russians…Amerikans…you name it. If you had a cause it was somehow perverted into something distasteful. I had several. But as I said, I don’t get around much anymore. I don’t have so many anymore. Just a couple. And they are still perverting them. Those that hear what they want to hear. Elmo knows. But he’s OK now. He’s getting psychiatric care. Maybe I should get me some of that ‘care’.
I was dating the same girl that Eric Burdon was. At that time. Maybe I shouldn’t say that publicly…since I’m sure they are both still alive and kicking. I am. Well…mainly just alive. Not so much kicking anymore. But I was at one time. Anyway, I always thought that was cool. Sharing a woman with this edgy guy. This “animal”. Not a guy to ‘pop a cop’…but one whose very stage demeanor said that he might slit a few Cohen-type record producers’ throats if they didn’t stay out of his way. Actually, the woman in question told me that he was a shy person until he got to the stage. Not someone you would notice in public at all. I liked that too. I’m sure he still is. But that’s as may be. I liked the edginess. I like the no-bullshit angry-young-man thing. The simmering explosiveness. I saw myself like that. I wasn’t on many stages so my affected persona of such a man had to be on the sleeve. It caused me some problems.
But back to being misunderstood. There is no shortage of that. It is handed out as freely as the porn that guys used to have to pay for. Things that seem to fit some agendas…all of a sudden…are free. Hatred is in the bargain bin. There are plenty of these things that used to be almost out of reach…that now are very affordable. We can’t afford decent food…but mortgages are two-for-a-penny. Maybe these things like house loans, quarter-pounders and films of loose women have no real value anymore. Maybe they never did. Integrity…honesty…honor…these things are still exorbitant. Few can afford them, and those that can don’t want them. So they are going out of style. But don’t misunderstand me…I want them…I have them…and are making the payments faithfully. I don’t intend to sell them on ebay anytime soon. No matter how strapped I get. But like Elmo up there…maybe while shouting that Henry Ford had the tribe’s number…I too will and am being written off. Not fully being understood. I use a nom-de-plume, this guy wears a cuddly outfit. Both trying to market our integrity. Trying to warn. Why? We sure aren’t going to make any money at it(I have almost sold enough copies of my book to pay for publishing it). We sure aren’t going to make a lot of friends. Maybe he isn’t just some nut-job that needs to be carted off to Bellview. Maybe he is. I dunno. I don’t think I am either…but the crazy are seldom aware that they are crazy. Hi-ho.
Maybe a symptom of this purposed craziness of mine lies in the fact that I don’t think I misunderstand the tribe about which I am eternally warning everyone that will listen. I think that I pretty much understand this cult. But do they understand me? And do the readers here fully fathom my hatred for an ideology and not a group of people? Again…I dunno. I know one thing. Cemeteries are filled with good intentions. I will be pouring my own into a hole there soon. To add to the mix. No one is an angel all the time.
So for Eric and all those that were once edgy and misunderstood. That thought about, or at least sang about, things like not wanting to be mistaken for someone else…Salute’. There are those of us out here that are still in that mindset.