Edition #130 - So What’s Going On, Alex? I Found Love Again.

It’s incredible how cultivating a more serene and realistic form of optimism as part of my daily decisional culture has not been only liberating for me on so many emotional and psychological levels but also offers me a much brighter and clearer perspective about the general optics of my existence. Maybe drinking less tequila helps as well…

I shared about my father’s passing anniversary in my previous publication… If it was significant for me to do so, I purposely omitted a few meaningful details as well, which kind of directed important decisions I would make and oriented my mindset in quite an unexpected trajectory, one I couldn’t foresee and most definitely didn’t see coming but that totally makes sense looking into it now…

I guess it all started when my mom sent me an SMS (yes, an SMS. As I told you before, I’m greatly inadequate (for lack of more accurate terms) when it comes to intimate relationships. I’m a sloooooooow work in progress. At least, I like to believe so!) Anyway. My mom sent me an SMS sharing the news that she had found a sort of condo and that she was happy and ready to move on to the next chapter of her life since my father’s passing. I was genuinely proud of her, and I have always been highly supportive and encouraging her to keep on building herself following the passing of the person she knew was her soulmate, but the news sort of hit me later on… It represented a major step forward in an upcoming season of self-affirmation and ongoing self-discovery for my mom. This important decision was for her to make, but it implied the end of something I wasn’t prepared for somehow, as that house, if it’s been an upmost blessing for my parents, was the last tangible reminiscence of my father’s presence.

My parents fought all their lives to offer me the best shot I could have at defining the life I wanted to experience. Their struggles were innumerable, but so was their determination to outgrow the little odds they had to get out of the financial survival cycle they’d been trying to deal with for as far as I can remember. They finally did, with unbelievable resilience and hard, hard work… And while I had never lived in that house, as I was building my own adventure for a while at that point, I knew what it meant for both of them. My father was a proud person. He was made in the fabric of the old world, if you like. He never said much, worked his butt off, but had a vision: to offer my mom what he suffered from not being able to give her a home for most of their marriage. He finally did. And renovated the whole place himself, based not only on the handy handyman he taught himself to be but most definitely as the artist he was… My father was a wood sculptor and painter.

So that condo news was a bit of a shock. Not a surprise, as my mom had been pretty vocal about it for a while… But still, for me it meant that the house would go on the market and everything it was would go away with it… Weird how I won’t care one bit about the tangible aspect of most things but will be overtly affected by elements that are purely symbolic. You call me a perplexing romantic made of a million paradoxes, and I don’t know if it will start to cut it… I was emotionally ambivalent about the whole situation and figured that if I could have stalled the process in order to figure out if I wanted to keep the house, which would have been complete nonsense, but it wouldn’t have been the first nor the last time I’d make a completely irrational move purely based on affective metrics. Oh well… I couldn’t see many logical reasons to keep the house and to maintain some sort of Foster’s museum… It would have been as obviously ridiculous as it would be totally disrespectful to my mom’s own grieving process — and mostly creepy anyway.

So the house went on sale, and two or three days after, it was sold. I was happy for my mom. She went all the way with it. And I was equally relieved that she wouldn’t have to drag the whole thing for a while, risking doubting herself or feeling guilty for “moving on” when she was actually healthily and positively transitioning.

Where am I going with that? I’m getting there, don’t worry, it all makes sense. Three days ago, on my father’s passing day, my mom told me she had put aside a ton of things for me: souvenirs, paintings, different art elements my father liked, etc, etc, and that they would be perfect for my home in Virginia. Yes, the place being rebuilt that I call home. So a moving truck went in, and the whole shebang that goes with it. It felt so strange to me… For no particular reason, as I was grateful she did that for me…

I guess what struck me the most is when she said, “You were raised to be independent, a citizen of the world, one who knows he can accomplish everything he wants if he truly invests himself into it, but I have come to realize that you’ve been looking to identify where your personal roots were all your life; the whole point of love is for you to decide where to settle, free from your upbringing and your desire to give some sense to what used to be your starting point and the runway that follows. Stop looking back, embrace life, and follow your instinct,” all that said in her much more colorful manner. Yes, that’s my mom; she’s quite an extraordinary character and badass as well!

That conversation reverberated deeply within me. Good thing I’m still mostly grounded while my strained ankle heals… It gives me allllll the time I need to think… Which is not always a good thing, but in that particular case, it was.

So I was communicating with Ben, the unsung hero of my ongoing recording process (nope, it’s not totally wrapped yet!) as we were working on the mix of what would probably be my next single, driving Ben crazy with micro-changes and the high importance of layers and layers of sounds no one will really hear, and I received an SMS from Sandra, Miss Isabel’s sister, the manager of La Maison de Tanger. “Look at what was left for you in front of the hotel last night.” I didn’t look right away, as I was so deeply engaged in the song’s mix (having just told Ben I wanted to change the whole rhythm section on one of the song’s parts, meaning it’s not called mixing anymore but going back to production. I’ll explain in an upcoming publication.) So many hours after, Sandra sent me another SMS saying, “Have you seen? Look. Do it now!” Sandra being a pure Cartesian person, her insistent enthusiasm led me to check it out…

It happened that what has been left for me was a tiny little puppy. “No, no, no,” I told myself as I refrained from answering Sandra’s message, knowing I would ask her questions. “NO!” I went back to keep on torturing Ben instead, who re-recorded drums and had Jeff rush in to re-record bass. Super stoked that the result was “it”, my answer was, “I knew it! Amazing job, brother!” followed by “Let’s move on to the other changes I want to hear.” Hopefully Ben is never reluctant to keep on trying to highlight my creative vision even if it means having to scrap everything we worked so hard to give life to and to get back to my drawing board… Go, go, go!!!

That being said, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the puppy. “No. No, no, no. You already adopted Louna 18 months ago. NO!” but I answered Sandra, hoping that my text would sound distant and uninvolved despite reading like this: “He’s very cute, but what’s the story behind all of this, and what have you done with him?” Of course…!

So as for the story: Guests found the pup in front of the door the night prior and looked around to find no one. Thinking the owner would come pick him up overnight, they got back inside. It’s late and everything is closed, so let’s wait until tomorrow to do anything. Morning came, the pup was still there, right in front of the door. The context became clear for everyone: I’m well known for taking care of street dogs in the neighborhood as I regularly bring sick or injured dogs to the vet and make sure they receive the proper care they need. “Let’s bring that puppy to Alex’s hotel, he’ll get things going from there…” They knew I would… and I did!

The thing is, because of my absence of reactions to Sandra’s message, the guests who found him decided to bring him to a nearby shelter. “Good call,” I thought, hoping to convince myself that it was the end of that very touching episode. But then I called Sandra. Those who know me understand what “Alex calling” means… It’s rare enough to freak people out when I do. I asked Sandra questions, but she didn’t know much. I called her back less than an hour after… “Any news on the puppy’s condition?” Of course, no one would ever call to update the status on a street dog they’ve been asked to care for… There are so many.

Sandra: “No, no news, it should be alright…”

Then I insisted she call the shelter. She did, but the secretary didn’t know anything about that specific puppy.

Alex: “What did she say?”

Sandra: “She told me the vet is in surgery right now.”

Alex: “What? Don’t tell me they will put him to sleep?”

Sandra: “Of course not, Alex, you should know how many dogs they have to take care of. You are the one who has probably sent half of them there.”

Alex: “I know… but I’m asking specifically about THAT puppy.”

Sandra: “I don’t know.”

Alex: “Can’t you go to the shelter and check for yourself?”

Sandra: “I would like to, but I’m working right now.”

Alex: “Ok, pick me up in 5 minutes, I’ll go check it out.”

Sandra: “Alex? Hello? Alex…?”

5 minutes later I was limping to the car, and we were at the shelter… No sign of the puppy. I looked everywhere, asked the volunteers. An elderly lady told me there were many puppies I could look at. I answered that I wasn’t there to adopt a puppy but to look for a specific one. Sandra showed her the pictures. “Oh, he looks like a good-spirited puppy, you have a good heart, he will be a good dog for you.” Sandra insisted we were only there to make sure the pup was ok. The woman smiled at me. We waited for the vet who finally came out of the surgery room about 45 minutes later. He was happy to see me, even if a little confused as to why I hadn’t brought any new resident for him to take care of this time.

Vet: “What a great surprise, Alex. How can I help you?”

Alex: “Guests from my hotel brought a little puppy this morning. Is he ok?”

Vet: “A puppy?”

Sandra, who got caught in the turmoil, showed some pictures.

Vet: “Oh, yes, he’s in quarantine. I gave him some basic treatments to make sure he would be ok.”

Alex: “Great, can I see him?”

Vet: “Of course. Why do you look worried?”

Alex: “I just want to make sure he’s alright. Strangers left him for me at the hotel, so I was wondering…”

The vet went in a room and brought the puppy, who was confused and crying until he was in my hands.

Vet: “Oh, he stopped crying; he already loves you!”

Sandra: “Alex… !!!”

Vet: “Alex… ???”

Sandra: “Alex… You told me… no!!!”

Vet: “Alex… looks like someone is already in love with you!”

The pup had his tiny little head in my neck, peacefully resting.

Sandra: “Ok, we are happy he is doing good.”

Alex: “Can you complete his basic treatments now?”

Vet: “Of course…

Alex: “Great, he’s coming with me!”

Sandra: “Alex…!!!”

Vet: “I’m happy. Do you know why people give away black-colored animals?”

Alex: “I guess… But go ahead…”

Vet: “It’s still part of the folklore and culture that a black-colored animal brings bad luck to the household.”

Alex: “That’s what I figured… So those animals are not only abandoned, but they never get adopted, right!?!”

Vet: “Right… So you saved his life. You adopted each other… That’s a good thing for you both, Alex.”

Alex: “Thank you.”

Vet: “Sometimes it’s destiny; we don’t know why, but it’s been brought to you.”

Alex: “Alright, let’s go!”

Vet: “You took the right decision, Alex.”

Alex: “YES!!!”

Back in the car, Sandra looked at us both and said, “Really, Alex? Really? I’m not worried for him but for you. You can’t adopt every single dog.” “I know, I know, but he’s not “every” dog.” I explained the circumstances of my father’s passing anniversay, their house being sold, the conversation with my mom… I believe it was meant to be. As she looked at the pup sleeping in my arms, she asked me what was next. “Let’s go buy everything we need and stop by Louna’s vet to start the vaccines and the whole process.” Sandra smiled, thinking I was most definitely the craziest person she had ever met — as if it was a sudden reflection on her part. But at the same time, as I told her, she was the one to send me pictures, so she should have known that I would adopt the pup brought to my door… She laughed and said, “Yes, I knew, but after MacKaye’s tragic departure, I wanted to make sure it was the right timing, that you were ready for him…” With tears in my eyes, I answered: “Mac will forever be my beloved pup, the one and only, but I do have a special love in my heart to give now… to give him,” while looking at that 1 kilo made of pure innocence, sweetness, and affections…

Who is he?

He’s a baby boy, 4-6 weeks, probably left for me the second he was off his mother’s feeding care. His health is perfect, contrary to Louna who had been left for dead in a park before I picked her up. He is most definitely coming from a good environment, but his black color made him almost impossible to be given away, to our great blessing. So like my pups before, I named him in honor of one of my musical influences. MacKaye was for hardcore legend Ian MacKaye (Minor Threat, Fugazi, and so many others), Leonard was for Montreal’s poet Leonard Cohen, while Louna (whom we believe was a boy since it was almost impossible for us to determine the sex as she was too rachitic to figure it out) was named after Lou Reed. And they all perfectly embodied their names. I mean… Really!

Therefore, looking at him, at his attitude and character, his story, his color and all, I decided to name him “Robert” for The Cure’s leader, Robert Smith, a goth-looking lover boy, a so perfectly fitting name that when I called my best friend Stephanie, with whom I adopted Mac and Leo, she said, “I know what you called him: Robert!” I laughed… She knows me — and it’s totally him!

Life creates life.

Your brother and friend

Alex

PS: The third part of my “So What’s Going On, Alex” series is titled “Hear My New Single”. Yes, that specific title is totally intended to be clickbait. ;)