Sometimes forever is really forever
Somewhere I think maybe somehow love has gone to hide. The sore and tired heart has said in a hoarse whisper “I have fought enough and now I forget why the fight started. So tonight I might just sleep, let the world turn without me.” And then it disappeared like some sad shadow in an old black & white film.
I think that maybe there isn’t anywhere left to look to find a real love. We can find heartache sure as shooting. We can find convenience, you bring yours and I’ll bring mine and we’ll call it love. It ain’t hard to see a contract and an agreement. It sure is lonely out there and maybe if you and me stand in the same room together we won’t feel so alone and maybe if we are lucky it’ll become a love and a need, maybe a habit.
But where is the Dimaggio love? The real thing brother…The kind of love that don’t just die off and fade away. Love like a Troubadour, that when you close the door it don’t up and run away, looking for maybe a safer place to stay. It just stands outside and waits without demand or menace, just a solid heart and a real commitment. So that when someday that door opens again it’s still there and it says “Hey there you, I’ve been waiting, I swore to you I’d be there always and as a man of honor, God and all the things no one believes in anymore I meant forever. A day or a thousand eons, nothing diminishes, the real things always stay, set in the stone and stars.” That ghost that can be real.
See Dimaggio swore to Marilyn that no matter what, no matter how far away and how much his heart may hurt he’s walk that line, he’d be there for her, in spirit or when it really mattered in body and always in heart, he’d be there. He said “I love you forever.” And you know he meant it. Because when Hollywood got too rough and them Vegas boys got too cold. When the playwriter and the banker turned to black ashes on contracts. When the DC brothers had to close her up for the sake of a good campaign and a clean smile. It was Joe who came to her, it was Joe that came to see her when her fragile and torn heart wound her up in some New York hospital and when she did too many of the pills the doctors gave her to help her get by, it was Joe on the phone talking her to sleep. Telling her that she wasn’t in it alone. And when the end finally came it was Dimaggio who stood like an honour guard. It was Joe who kept away the Hollywood sharks, the Vegas greaseballs and the New York pseudo-intellectuals. He told the world that just this once, just for a couple hours it’ll be Marilyn’s life, her love and not some production and scheme. The service was small and intimate and attended only by a few, family, friends and even the housekeeper she trusted. And Dimaggio paid for it all, arranged it all and saw that it was tasteful and honest. Because she was his girl, no matter what, no matter how many other men she’d known and even wed, she was still just his Norma Jean. His girl. He said he’d love her forever and he always meant it. No quitting, no goodbyes. Just Joe and Marilyn. It was written that way in the heavens and it was how it is suppose to be.
Maybe it’s me, maybe I’m just a little lonely or maybe it’s 4 am creeping in on me. But I got to thinking. That I’ve loved a few, hurt many, lost more than I ever earned. But I got my Marilyn and I like to believe I’m her Joe. But somewhere she is far away. And I doubt I’ll ever see her again. But she knows. And in some strange way I feel her still. It was a sad way that it went. The last time I saw her I was not in good shape and I was about to get worse. I was wearing handcuffs and she had a face full of smeared makeup and tears. And it was nothing but a mess I made myself. And as I drove off I looked back to see her on the porch, the cop up front turned to me and said “Boy that girl sure does love you.” and I replied “Yeah she sure does have a funny way of showing it.” and that was probably the only way she could show it anymore. My ripping and running was going to kill me or someone else and all she had left was one desperate last grasp. A sacrifice, her heart for my life. Yeah man, she laid it down and let me go, rather than let me die. It was all she had left.
But somewhere in there, before it got bad, before it went crazy and I got so lost. I swore I’d always love her. I swore forever was until the end of time. And it still stands. Though being honest I don’t know if she’d even look for me anymore. It’s easy to say. But I think I mean it. If she ever needed me, if she ever wanted to love me again, if the whole damn world seemed a little too cold, a little too crazy, I’d be the voice on the other end of the line telling her she’s always got a place here in me.
So if you wonder if love is real. I’d say yeah it is, but it’s alone tonight. And it’s hurting. Laying wounded and looking up at the ceiling and wishing it didn’t know what this terrible loneliness was.
And the thing I have come to know about my love and my heart is I feel the same about all the ones I’ve loved. All the secret hearts I’ve held. I’d be there no matter what. Because I am a man of truth and honour and I go by my word. Maybe that’s why I can’t find love anywhere else anymore. There are no more ladies and I ain’t the Man from La Mancha, though baby I do tilt at windmills…Every chance I get.
But I’ll only ever have just one Marilyn and I’ll only ever be one Joe.
Goodnight H. Wherever it is you’re sleeping, it isn’t too far away.
If you want to hear the song that tripped my switch, here it is by a good Canadian boy…Give it a listen, buy his stuff and support real talent.
Dimaggio by The Mike Plume Band