Honesty

I've come to see honesty as a two-horned devil; that sometimes saying nothing is better than telling the whole truth because, frankly, most people do not like to hear the whole truth no matter how honest it is.

In my ad, when looking for coffee and chat pals, I say, I'm a creative type, which I believe to be an attribute. I take my craft seriously. I continuously write songs, post to this blog, write poems, and am working on a novel that (so help me god) I will finish. Recently, I read someplace that the definition of a writer is someone who writes things that other people are afraid to reveal. Maybe it's because I continually write, create, and perform, that I think nothing of revealing my emotions. I forget that many people, especially those who say they "like" to write, do not reveal their deepest thoughts with such abandon because revealing such is an act that can bring judgement upon you.

I was reminded of this on coffee date not long ago when I met a woman who had two children, was divorced, and lived in town. Like me she works in the software industry, and says she likes to write. Unlike me, she really doesn't write, but wishes she could. She has no time because she works a stressful job she doesn't like and has two kids to raise.

At first when we met, it seemed like an exercise in speed dating with the both of us rapidly trying to summarize who we were in the shortest amount of time. I knew her time was limited, but I thought, this is crazy, this is an opportunity to get to know someone else, and, perhaps, find a connection. Did we have a connection or were we just two people trying to get therapy the cheapest way possible?

I decided to turn the conversation to music. I asked her what her favorite type was and what performers or bands she liked the most. It seemed to work like a charm because the conversation, instead being a break-neck, close to catastrophe downhill ski race, slowly turned into a a leisurely stroll by a lazy river. We both smiled and laughed as we recalled concerts we'd been to and songs that elicited fond thoughts in past and present times. I started feeling at ease with her. I'd already felt an attraction from the time I first saw her, but now, I began to think that this could be someone I might want to spend some time with. U2 and, especially, John Mayer were not my faves, but I'm not nineteen, and my world is not made of people with my sole musical tastes.

The conversation then turned to my music. What was it like? How did I sum it up? She said she liked the soulful quality of John Mayer's lyrics. I said, my lyrics weren't exactly soulful in the way his were. I have one song about a guy who downs a couple of Percocets because he gets dumped by some girl. Another is the story of a woman who marries for money, and is completely miserable. And then there's the one about Albert Fish, who was a real-life serial killer who made stews out of his victims. I told her about the Albert Fish song, and she asked with a smile, was I obsessed about serial killers? I said, no, and went on to explain that it was written because I remembered a friend in high school, who in his free time, would go to the library, and thumb through a book about infamous criminals. I said I remember Albert Fish's picture, which reminded me of a combination of the Abolistionist, John Brown morphed with the Actor, John Carradine Sr. Fish was such a spooky vision that I felt compelled to write about him. She seemed satisfied with my explanation, and before we departed, I told her I'd send her a link to my sound files so she could get a better idea of what "Twisted Roots Pop" was all about.

I sent her the link. Later, she responded with a email that in-part said, "Thanks for sharing your music- great stuff, I like your honesty. I'm heading out of town on vacation with the kids next weekend, perhaps we could meet up when I get back."

Will I hear from her? I'm not sure. Honesty... Be careful of what you reveal. It can be used against you.