No Point No Point

November 5, 2012

“No point, no point,” Hans in the Netherlands always says when he means “That’s okay.” I translate in my head “No problem, Melanie, it’s okay.” ~ On totally other occasions, I mirror “No point, no point,” in my head meaning everything from “Why bother?”, “Fuck it, what difference does it make?” or “Oh, you fool.”

No point, no point. The voice in my head has an accent so the f-word doesn’t sound so bad. That’s probably because “fuck” isn’t a swear word from infancy on in the Netherlands, like it is for the English-speaking world. I speak English, but it flies about in and out of my mouth, comes from hanging around musicians all my life. Now that I think of it, neither Peter nor Beau used swear words. It’s me with the filthy mouth, but I have an accent. No point, no point.

Let’s get down to efing business. There, that doesn’t look so bad. The musical Melanie and the Record Man had its final performance on October 28th, two days after the life of Peter ended two years ago. It was quite a memorial and I know he would’ve loved it. Nick Faruch who played Peter gave him the nobility of which the circumstances of Peter’s life might have been lacking. But, no point, no point. Peter was noble. Truth eked from his pores. Not honesty, but truth. “Melanie” he would say, “Melanie, anyone can live in a house. You know how many people would give up their house for all this?” And the thing that he meant was the whirlwind, the storm, the elation, the shock and surprise, the lack and the abundance, and the big game. The life on the edge. You lead me to the edge and you ask me why I fall ~ Peter was the one who jumped, I just rode along on his back. Addictive stuff. He would also say if he had to go into battle, he wouldn’t want anyone but me with him. God knows why ~ but for the thrill of going into the thick of things, we were comrades in arms. Melanie and the Record Man will continue. I just need the ones who will jump out of a plane, feeling confident that they have me! They have me my dear ones, battle scars and all.

Love,
Melanie