I’m breaking from Helen’s theme on Song-Lyric Sunday today because what I want to write about is time-sensitive.
I’m not much of a Tragically Hip fan. I never have been. But what the band is going through right now affects me. It has the potential to affect all music fans, regardless of preference. You see, a few months ago, when The Tragically Hip announced their final tour, they also came out with the news that their lead singer, Gordon Downie, has brain cancer.
Over the years, The Tragically Hip have become a Canadian icon, every bit as much as David Bowie was to England. Yet they chose to handle the same disease differently. Some would say Bowie did it right, not allowing his fans to fawn over him during his final days. Those same people might say The Hip announced Gordon Downie’s disease as a publicity stunt. But I would have to disagree. The same number of people would have bought tickets to their “final tour” (in brackets because we know what that usually means) and perhaps some of their most loyal fans would have waited until they came out of retirement. As it is, it doesn’t seem they will.
Imagine.
On August 20th they will walk off the stage for the very last time, in their hometown of Kingston, Ontario. The venue, the K-Rock Centre on Tragically Hip Way. How difficult will that be for both the band and the fans? I’m in tears just thinking about it, because even though The Tragically Hip isn’t “my band,” it will happen to every one of them, eventually. Because of the timely announcement, the CBC will simulcast the concert countrywide.
To one of Canada’s greatest bands. I salute you.
Wheat Kings
(Lyrics from Google Play Music)
Sundown in the Paris of the prairies
Wheat kings have all treasures buried
And all you hear are the rusty breezes
Pushing around the weathervane Jesus
In his Zippo lighter he sees the killer’s face
Maybe it’s someone standing in a killer’s place
Twenty years for nothing, well, that’s nothing new
Besides, no one’s interested in something you didn’t do
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let’s just see what the morning brings
There’s a dream he dreams where the high school’s dead and stark
It’s a museum and we’re all locked up in it after dark
Where the walls are lined all yellow, grey and sinister
Hung with pictures of our parents’ prime ministers
Wheat kings and pretty things
Wait and see what tomorrow brings
Late breaking story on the CBC
A nation whispers, “We always knew that he’d go free”
They add, “You can’t be fond of living in the past
‘Cause if you are then there’s no way that you’re going to last”
Wheat kings and pretty things
Let’s just see what tomorrow brings
Wheat kings and pretty things
Oh that’s what tomorrow brings
Okay, my friends, I need your opinion on something. It’s a tough one. I fully expect some of you may even unfollow me over this. Honestly, as I read this over I’m not even sure whether or not to post it. But it’s been bugging me…
My current conundrum started out innocently enough. Looking at the stats on my fiction blog, pathetic as they are compared to last year when I did an A-Z story there, I wondered if it was too late to start a new fiction piece this year. I am, however, stretched thin enough already so I thought hey, why not start now and write a chapter every two weeks to post for next year! And why not schedule them as I write them?
But A-Z 2016, I thought, is a long way off. So much could happen between now and then. What if, for example, I die between now and next April? It would mean that my posts would appear after my death! Would that be really cool for the people who received notifications that I’d posted again? Or would it be creepy? And what if I died just before I finished writing my story? Talk about a cliffhanger!!
So here’s where I need your input. Think about it. Many of us hope to blog for a good long time to come. Some, including me, can see ourselves blogging until we pop off. Each and every one of us has the ability to schedule our posts ahead of time – we can even plan to send out a loving message after we die, by re-scheduling every few month or years. Kind of like those hidden tapes they’re always finding in movies where the character says, “If you’re listening to/watching this, I’m dead.”
Would YOU want your writings to come out after you pass away? And how would you feel if someone you follow, as sad as it would be if they died whilst in the throes of their illustrious blogging career, posted an article after he or she had kicked the proverbial bucket? Because let’s face it, unless someone else has a blog’s password, there’s nothing that can prevent a scheduled post from going live, so to speak.
It’s difficult to say, isn’t it? Or is to simply too morbid to contemplate?
I’m writing this as I sit in a state of shock. The numbness – the suspension of disbelief – I feel when I find out that suddenly someone I grew up “knowing” has died, is incomparable to anything else. It’s not as though I actually knew the man. Yet he was part of my life. The kind of guy you figure will be around forever.
lindaghill.com 