Strange Weirdos

Okay, so here's my new favorite song, which is the title track on Loudon Wainwright, III's new album, STRANGE WEIRDOS--MUSIC FROM AND INSPIRED BY THE FILM "KNOCKED UP":

STRANGE WEIRDOS

Isn't it strange that 2 strangers

Suddenly don't feel so strange?

It's something familiar, though this time it's different

What they're in for feels like sea change



Isn't it weird that 2 weirdos

Can wind up not feeling that weird?

It's all so momentous, yet perfectly normal

Scary but not to be feared



And it starts with a sentence that might last a lifetime

Or it all might just go down in flames

If I let you know me, then why would you want me?

But each day I don't, is a shame

And each day I don't is a great shame



Isn't it great that two people

Together can tear down one wall?

The handwriting is on it, it's not hieroglyphic

That barrier just has to fall



But isn't it sad that most people

Stay so lonely, it's almost a crime?

We might be strange weirdos, but it can't be normal

To be frightened so much of our time



And it starts with a sentence that might last a lifetime

Or it all might just go down in flames

If I let you know me, then why would you want me?

But each day I don't, is a shame

And each day I don't is a great shame.



The film KNOCKED UP is a great movie, and a great story about how people who just don't seem to have any reason to fit together somehow do, and I highly recommend both the film and the soundtrack, as most of the amazing lyrics were omitted from the film version of the music.

Although he's been around for nearly 40 years, the first time I heard of Loudon Wainwright, III, was in an article I was reading about his son, Rufus Wainwright. For those of you not familiar, go right now to www.rufuswainwright.com and watch the video "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk." You will fall in love immediately. He is a diva extraordinaire, and is FABULOUS in concert (I've traveled to see him in Chicago & San Jose).

Anyway, I digress. So I've been listening to this CD for the past week or so, mainly replaying "Grey in L.A." which is a catchy number, and another poignant song, "You Can't Fail Me Now." This morning, though, was the first time I really paid attention to the title track, which comes near the end of the album, and I was really moved by it. It perfectly sums up how John and I have always described our relationship. I told him years ago, "we're all weird--the trick is to find someone who understands your particular kind of weird." It also got me to thinking about other couples I know, most of whom are also their own special brand of strange, both individually and together.

I found myself thinking that the same goes for friendships as in romance in this "strange weirdo" universe. I think about my friends and co-conspirators and realize that what I revel in are their idiosyncrasies--the things that can simultaneously make them enigmatic or infuriating but deliciously different in just the right way. They've all got talents inumerable and immeasurable which move me beyond words, but what I love about them are those personalitly quirks and they way they seem to understand and appreciate mine.

And then I got to thinking about all my friends who are still alone in their strangeness, and it made me very sad. These are some of the most unique, gifted, loving people in the world, and for one reason or another, love has simply eluded them. If there's someone for me, then there ought to be someone for them, too. I wish I could play mix and match, sometimes--I mean, if they all connect to my strangeness, at least a few of them should connect to each other, but so far I haven't been able to join any of the dots. I want each of them to know not just love, but, perhaps even more importantly, the acceptance that comes from finding that corresponding weirdo.......

I think many of them get snagged in the chorus, "If I let you know me, then why should you want me?" and never realize that "each day I don't is a great shame."

Thank God for my entire family of strange weirdos. May each of you find and/or hold on to your own.