The Last Waltz

Watched this film last night on TV. I first watched it as a 17-year-old; living at home on the dole, wondering what I was going to do with my life. Neil Young's Helpless perfectly expressed my state of mind. Bob Dylan came on and sang Forever Young and I Will Be Released. I remember thinking at the time how cool he looked and his music reached out to me, gave me hope - just as it does now 25 years later. As I watched it again, I saw the film in a different light, I could appreciate Scorsese's filming - I doubt if I'd even heard of him first time around; maybe, as I saw Taxi Driver quite early on and was aware of Mean Streets. Joni Mitchell looked like a Goddess, Neil was Neil, Van the man was a dude as was Dr John. These dudes probably looked ancient to my teenage perceptions, now they looked all so young. Although I did go on to achieve lots of things in my life - I played jazz in Austria, became a journalist, travelled, played in bands - I still had the same feelings of frustration last night as I remember experiencing all those years ago. It seems the only thing that has changed since then is that now I have two children and I know who Lawrence Ferlinghetti is - he came on stage and read a poem. I'm still searching, but for what I don't know, I've achieved everything I wanted to, apart from be a writer, which is why I'm writing this blog and why finally, finally, I am writing a book. This must be my destiny, because why else would I do it? I should be enjoying life; I have got the house and car, wife and kids; it's a Sunday, I should be out doing the gardening, D I Y-ing, looks like dying? Instead I write. I Love my wife and kids, that's not an issue...they are my inspiration.

In 25 years time I will be 67. I wonder if I'll revist The Last Waltz again and look back at where I was at.