A Forty Year Love Story

 Forty years ago I put on my (ginormous) headphones, laid down on my floor, and spent hour upon hour listening to Queen's News of the World album. I studied the lyrics and gazed at the album cover, pondering the meaning of the robot. I lost myself in Freddie Mercury's voice, the lyrics, and the sounds enveloping me. Passion.
 I expanded my appreciation of Queen backward through their catalog and followed them forward with each release.  I put them on a back shelf in my musical interests for awhile, still listening to the singles. I liked some, others not so much. In all those years there was never an opportunity for me to see them in concert. Then Freddie died. I cried through the entire tribute concert as I watched.... The Queen was dead. All the passion I had felt for their music became a part of my story.  Part of that story was that I would never experience them in concert. The possibility was gone.
 Several years ago Queen (Brian May and Roger Taylor, not John Deacon though, he had retired) went on tour with Paul Rogers. It made me vaguely sad that Queen was trying to live on with someone who could never live up to the legend of Freddie Mercury. No way would I go to something so bound to be disappointing and even sad.
 Then a few years later I heard about some guy on American Idol that had Queen play with him on the show. That seemed cheap. Then they toured together. What were they thinking? How could anyone be satisfied with a substitute for Freddie? "It's not Queen without Freddie Mercury". It wasn't just me saying that.... I've heard it many times. Most people express that thought. I didn't think twice about not going to see them in concert when they were here.
 Flash forward to a little over a year ago. Lucius asked to hear that song we played sometimes... he got the name wrong, but right enough that we understood what he meant. Bohemian Rhapsody.  Since that moment we have listened to that song literally almost every single day on the way to school. And on the way home. And randomly at other times. At first I was really really afraid it would make me sick of the song. The kids began watching old concert videos on YouTube. They would say "listen to this version mom. Do you hear the difference?" and sure enough I did. As I listened to Bohemian Rhapsody every day, I began to hear each instrument as its own voice. The weaving and melding of everything into one magical song became more interesting than I had ever realized it could be. There are videos of the instrument tracks separated out from each other. You'd never think how little guitar there is in that song. We watched a video of Brian May talking about the making of Bohemian Rhapsody. Eventually it became a full fledged head on plunge into all things Queen. Lucius even began learning some of their songs on piano (Play The Game), then bass (Another One Bites the Dust). Queen was ever present in our lives.
 And you know what I learned? After all these years? That band was much much more than Freddie Mercury. They were four musicians who had just exactly the right chemistry with each other, and the respect to give each credit where credit was due. They are the only band to have all four members have a song on every album. They are also the only band to have all four members have hit singles.. Two of my most favorite songs are written by the bass player, John Deacon. Brian May is a guitar God, in his own right. Roger Taylor on drums was a driving force in every song and his voice is ever present. My boys taught me more about music, through this obsession, than anyone else in my life.
  So when Queen + Adam Lambert announced their tour, there was zero chance we were going to miss it. Tuesday night, when  the concert started with the giant robot from News of the World smashing through a wall, I was transported back to my bedroom floor 40 years ago. I loved every moment of that night, maybe as much or more than any other concert I've been to, which is saying something because that is a very good long list.  Bye the time the robot waived farewell and the speakers blared "God Save the Queen" (as was their long standing tradition) I had finally seen Queen, live in concert.

 I was with my first husband for 11 years. I was completely in love, enthralled, with him. I saw him behave very badly. Sometimes he did things that were clearly wrong (even amoral,maybe). Occasionally I would have a frisson of something vaguely sociopathic. I managed to justify everything. I had a multitude of answers. I was caught. He confused me, distracted me from what I knew to be true, twisted things upside down and backwards until nothing made sense. So many people loved him. I don't think they really knew him. Even then I didn't really think they knew him. I knew things they didn't, because they wouldn't understand if they knew. If they didn't understand then they wouldn't love him. But he was worth loving, to me, despite it all. Friends and family who saw something they didn't like were dismissed. Some who loved me just stayed loyal and present. I think they were awaiting the day it would end.
 Toward the end of our relationship we were fighting one day and I suddenly realized I had no idea what we were actually fighting about. It was like I woke up in the middle of something and couldn't find my way. I expressed that feeling to him, and he responded that sometimes he liked to say things that make me mad because it was fun to fight with me. Re-read that sentence. It  may be one of the most honest things he has ever said in his life.
 Our separation was spurred on by his confession of an affair that was the most recent in a string affairs that I had always suspected. For years I have described to people the overwhelming sense of gratitude I felt in that moment. I was not angry. I was grateful. I was grateful because he had just handed me my sanity. "I'm not crazy!" After years of feeling like I was seeing things that weren't there, I now knew the truth. It was total relief.
 Over 20 years later I sat having lunch with a friend who had known him. They had not ended well. She had never really felt the attraction that so many people felt. In fact, it was the opposite. So there we were talking about all those years ago and she said something about him abusing me.. I said I didn't think so. She asked "have you ever heard of gas lighting?" I had, and rejected her premise. That was last July.
 In October I was driving down the freeway, thoughts coming and going from my mind. Then a memory appeared and suddenly looked very different than it had before. It hit me full force that I had refused to see what I knew was happening. I was not proud of my devotion. It made me sad.  After that, one thing after another has flooded me. I still get random memories popping up that make me cringe. I spent 11 years convincing my self that there were good reasons for everything that happened, or when there weren't it wasn't that big of a deal. I gave him my belief and trust. Even after our divorce, I would admit he was crazy, but that I had seen his dark side and felt he had been struggling to overcome his psychological problems. I believed he could have, and that he just stopped fighting and lost the battle.
 My friend said "have you heard of gas lighting?" and I said that had not been the case.  It took me 11 years with him, plus another 26 to see it differently.
 Today my heart hurts for this country. The man about to be sworn in as president is clearly abusive and managing to gas light almost half the country. Even the press is still caught in trying to figure him out. Which thing he said is the thing he meant? Which promises were the real promises? What does it mean that his cabinet picks seem to contradict him?  What does it mean that they  are antagonistic to the very cabinets they are being nominated to head? Listen up people: it doesn't mean anything, except that he enjoys watching the chaos he creates. It is all so very entertaining and exhilarating. Even the anger and hatred he feels when someone attacks him serves as fuel for the game. The adrenaline rush is like a high. The power to fuck with us is intoxicating.
  People will say I'm wrong, that I "don't get it". Sure, he says shit and does things that may seem wrong, but it s not real. The rest of us look on in horror, much the same way my friend did... and other friends as well. you couldn't have convinced me anything was truly wrong, or not so wrong I wouldn't love him, not so wrong it negated all the magic and beauty.
 It took me 11 years, plus 26 more, to open my eyes. How can I expect  his supporters who are otherwise good people , to see him any clearer than I saw the man in my home? (I'm not talking about the bat-shit crazy ones here) Yelling and demanding that they come to terms with their own blind spots is a lost cause. It will do no more good than anybody that tried to sway me. This sounds so condescending to me. I wish I could be the friend that sits next to them and says "Really? Are you sure? Pay attention. Think about this. This is what I see." cause this is for all of us now.