The Pumpkin Cycle, Part One, the First Half: "Feed in the Words."

DIARY

Billy Corgan and the Smashing Pumpkins.

As with My-So Called Life, the context is important, so before I get into my recent reimmersion in the closest thing I've ever had to a celebrity idol, I should explain, once again, the context.

I recently described how, "When I started tenth grade, I was deeply involved in theater, obsessed with the music from Les Misèrables, Sting, and the reggae pop band Breakfast Club, couldn't drive, had never been to a laser light show at Longway Planetarium, and had never seen My So-Called Life.
Only one month later, I was deeply involved in theater, obsessed with the music of Nine Inch Nails and Smashing Pumpkins, drove, had been to innumerable laser light shows at Longway Planetarium, and had taped every released epidode My So-Called Life."

A few things about this.

First, it seems to me like I might be obsessing over a couple years in the past right now. I never really wanted to come across as someone who thought that the best of life was over at the end of high school; I think it's disappointing if, at any point, one says with conviction, "the best of my life is behind me."

That said, I have to look at the sequence of mini-obsessions I've had this year. There've been many, and they've typically lasted about two weeks. I'm looking back from a current vantage point of Billy Corgan and all things Smashing Pumpkins, just before that was My So-Called Life, preceded by Edgewater Beach, preceded by Star Wars III, preceded by Scavhunt, and so on. I feel like these bursts of intense interest are both shorter in duration and higher in drive than they've been in recent years, and I have to question if there isn't a meaning in all this. I know to some people who read this blog that this is a source of frustration and anxiety, since they think I should be sinking more of my energy into other things; specifically the marriage, and behind it, getting ready for grad school.

This summer is without doubt the largest transition I've gone through this decade, and debatably my life. The purpose of all this introspection is to force a reckoning. Some ideas and hopes will be put to rest. Others, retained, because they continue to serve a purpose. I'm trying to extract from my past, like perfume, what is will be the most powerful and productive motive forces in my future. I'm trying to cast aside what has been indulgent and immature; shackles. And such discrimination and sorting requires careful examination. Such examination does not follow a particularly orderly path. This process has made it more fun and interesting.

I read the Qu'ran earlier this year (and I'm not venturing to compare my experiences to divinely inspired writings... at least not now), and one thing that struck me was its structure in the form of chapters, or Suras, the emphasis on the Suras as a succession, specifically the idea the you have to understand one thing before you can move on to the next.

For me, Scavhunt to Jordan Catalano to Billy Corgan is a succession, and each subsequent level teaches me something fundamental I'll need to know to excel in the new roles I'm taking on: caretaker, provider, writer, husband, father. Take it or leave it. Ultimately, it's how the interpretation is put into practice that truly determines its validity.

* * * * *

And that is why I've decided to try to contact Billy Corgan. Not in a creepy or obsessive or annoying way. I'm sure I've got (somewhere) the letter I wrote to the Pumpkins back in 11th grade (in Mr. Nelson's Algebra III class) asking them to play at my graduation. I will include my vitae, since my whole approach is to say "you should talk to me, because I am an artist, and our work is cross-relevant," and a page with fancy Urbantasm letterhead explaining how Mellon Collie was a motive force in its conception, and the first section of Urbantasm itself. Finally, a copy of a private confession I've already sent the man via his Myspace account. I managed to procure Sean and myself tickets to Billy Corgan's concert at the Vic this week. I will put all these materials in a manilla envelope and wait at the back door with all the fangirls until the sun comes up if need be, and exercise every polite and civilized means to set this envelope into his hands. Once the envelope is in his hands, the matter is out of mine.

The is the possibility of one other indirect method, and it involves blogging, but not here, and I'll save that description for another time.

A resonable question is, "why would I attempt this in the first place?"

That's the question I've sarcastically asked myself for years, and it has always led to a disappointing roll of the eyes and inaction. I've had plenty of mentors in my life, plenty of wise old men and women watching over me and teaching me, from my parents and aunt and grandmother early on, to Curt and Joe and all the others in between. Why should I resort to someone famous? Why should I resort to someone I don't know and who doesn't know me and who is nevertheless verbally inundated by hundreds of others who don't know him on a daily basis?

The answer is half-buried in other close friends and mentors who've become, if not famous, at least published and busy. That answer is, if I should not naturally gravitate towards someone's celebrity status, nor shold I be disuaded by it. The fact is that Billy Corgan's music is the richest influence I've drawn upon, and is probably more conspicuously reflected in my writing than anything else. If that is my reason for contacting him, why should I be afraid?

But this (here) isn't context by way of remeniscing; it's context by way of argumentation. I'm saying here: given that I'm invested in Billy Corgan's career, I should attempt to make contact with him. The next post on this will be context by way of remeniscing... that is, how I needed the Smashing Pumpkins in 10th and 11th grade, and how they did not disappoint. Because it makes a difference, you know, when you're talking about something as tangled as the process some guy who's released memoirs and music and poetry, all separate, and all within the same year.

I know I often set goals for posting (like last week) and usually fall short (like last week). Most often, these goals are more-or-less arbitrary, but I'm going to set one with meaning this time. Because I want to hammer out my impressions before I pour my heart out to a stranger; I want to know where I stand. So I'll find and make time to do this, along with everything else, and before I see the concert next week, I will have posted that background, talked about his recent projects, and gotten myself all hopped up on caffeine in pure anticipation.

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