|In this way we balance our chi, or some damn thing.|
There's a song by The Doors called "Blue Sunday." It's the rare Doors song that is a straight-up love song. I don't know, I kind of prefer it when Jim Morrison is singing about Texas radio and the big beat, or wanting to fuck his mother. But that's just me.
Anyway, "Blue Sunday" is a relatively obscure tune, but quite nice. Here's a video:
The lyrics are pretty simple. Really unobjectionable for a Doors song. Nobody is getting higher or squirming like a toad or milking babies.
However, there is this line:
My lover awaits for me in tender times.
If you're not an obsessive grammar nerd like me, maybe this line doesn't bother you at all.
But if you're going through a major life change and you want to avoid thinking about it for just a little while and you choose to do so by obsessing over a goddamn 45-year-old song lyric - and you're an obsessive grammar nerd - then maybe you realize that "await" is synonymous with "wait for."
Therefore, the phrase "My lover awaits for me" literally means "My lover waits for for me."
|for for for for for for for|
It's so not important.
But my brain is trying to cope with home repairs and the real estate market and impending divorce and single motherhood.
So this goddamn line by Jim Morrison (and Robby Krieger, who totally should have said something at the time) has become the most critical thing in the world.
And there's nothing I can do about it. The song is written, and recorded, and done. I can't make the offending phrase "awaits for me" disappear any more than I can shit a Nobel Prize.
Yet it allows me, for just a brief period of time, to forget that my life is on the cusp of changing forever, and I don't even know how to feel about that from one hour to the next.
In that light...thanks, The Doors, for this utterly insignificant syntactical lapse. You've given me something to take my mind off the larger issues of my existence.
Jim Morrison, wherever you are...thanks, man.