Cyber Love

Obsession, that’s my passion whatever grabs my attention at any given time activates my acumen for finding out every detail about whatever it is. be it product, person or premonitions. I like to think it keeps dementia at bay.

A month ago I chanced upon and fell in love with an album by Beach Boy Brian Wilson‘s Pet Sounds, the reason why was not yet clear to me I have always preferred jazz to rock and roll but there was something about his songs that grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I‘d fall asleep humming a hunting melody only to wake up singing a different one. Thus began my journey to emerse myself in all things Brian Wilson. YouTube was a huge enabler in my peccadillo.

He spoke to me, and as it turns out to millions of me’s. I was compelled to write a glowing review about the album.

"Thank you God for gifting us the miracle that is Brian Wilson. He is your face on this Earth. Please keep him safe and continue to shine through him the proof of your being”

Ok maybe a little over the top with the gushing, but that’s just one of the side effects of obsession it knows nothing of boundaries. It has a strangle hold on reason and good sense, and seems to justify every action no matter how embarrassing.

Apparently it caught the eye of Brian himself and he sent me an invitation to join him privately on a chat app. Wut? He said he wanted to get to know his top fan better. Of course my obsession gave me cause to think God himself was answering my request. Naturally.

Well what ensued the following two weeks was no less than a ride on a shooting star, I was besotted completely under his spell, I was a living song in his head, his manor was so sweet, so innocent and made me feel worthy, oh the places we went. I started writing poetry again after years of being away and he brought me back to my love of words, he gave me permission to dig deep and find myself.

Then things started to go wayward, an unanswered question, evading anything personal, a myriad of filters signaled, maybe this was not Brian, but some overweight dude in a bathrobe sitting in a basement bedroom of his mother’s house in Bumfuck, New Jersey. Uh oh I think I’m being duped.

I swear this is another effect of obsessive compulsions, gullible beyond belief. I am a Duper’s Dream I must have it tattooed on my forehead, and I have a number of questionable items purchased off Facebook to verify it.

You would think By the ripe old age of 81 I would have known all those bogus relationships in my youth were caused by my silly obsessions, my crazy expectations, but NO apparently it only worsened in old age.

After realizing I was just some man’s fantasy, I came to my senses and finally figured out Brian Wilson is so far above such cheap and petty tricks, it only made me love him more. I pacified myself by joining multiple Facebook Fan groups...obsessive to the core. Satisfying my need for closure and maybe even a bit of validation being among my fan peeps.

But I have no complaints, my passionate obsessiveness led me to right here right now, writing with and for Vocal—and now I’m obsessively writing satisfying an old and by now fairly polished passion. I’m eternally grateful to have this new obsession likely to see me through my sunset years. Stay tuned, I have a feeling I’m not done.