I flew for the first time unmedicated and I did not panic. I took a small dose of klonopin at noon and flew from Boston to NYC at 3:30pm (flight delayed.)
The meds wore off and my layover flight took off at 8:30pm, I remained at 34,000 feet for the next 5.5 hours and suffered restless legs, extreme boredom, frustration that I couldn’t yell louder at the TV my excitement at the Red Sox doing awesome because passengers were asleep. Gone was the panic. I had fun. I did sit back and relax and enjoy the flight. I even had a goddamn cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. I tested the old nerves with caffeine and I won.
The next night I went to see Morrissey in concert. It’s possibly his last concert in my area as he claims he’s retiring.
I saw him announce that it’s a “statement of fact that the world is full of crashing bores.” Then he proceeded to play live my favorite Morrissey song, one I’ve been waiting for years to hear live. I sang along and danced in a lame way.
Then he played The Smiths song, “Death of a Disco Dancer”. It was an honor and privelege to hear it live. Passionate goths, awkward aging Smiths fans, chubby new Mexican teenagered Moz fans and a drama queen like myself, sang along, thousands of people singing, “Love Peace and Harmony are very nice, very nice, but maybe in the next world.” I had a tear in my eye and I think I had my hand on my heart.