Naming your problem

Mississippi John Hurt sings one of my favorite blues songs on his Last Sessions album. The title of the track is Trouble, I’ve had it all my days. Really just about every song on this album is a keeper so if you are looking for a good blues album, or if you know a special someone who really likes the blues, you have my recommendation.

One of the stanzas goes like this:
Well, you talk about trouble, I had it all my days.
Trouble, had it all my days.
Seem like trouble, gonna carry me to my grave.

Mississippi John Hurt’s song is a love song about his girlfriend and her “evil ways.” He pines for her, he goes to jail for her, and despite his willingness to do anything for her, he thinks that she will eventually leave him. It is the epitome of the classic blues tragedy.

I like that image of trouble carrying me to my grave. It conjures the image of problems taking on human forms. I mean, it is one thing to say, I am having problems with my spouse or my children or my coworker, but entirely another to say, my problem exists as an independent entity, capable of walking around and talking to others and even picking me up and carrying me on occasion.

In the song, MJH suggests that while his girlfriend is causing him pain, the real trouble of his life has existed for many years. And that his mother even warned him at one point that trouble was a monkey on his back.

My momma told me, before I left her door.
Lord, momma told me...
Gonna have trouble, Son every where you go.

This image strengthens the notion that MJH’s troubles lie somehow outside of his experience with his girlfriend or his life in general, and that trouble is like his shadow, always present and always connected to his every movement even in the most illusive way.

If your problems could walk around, if they could talk to people, and hold your hand, if they could lead you to the store and lie down with you when you sleep, what would that problem look like. Is your problem masculine or feminine? Is your problem old or young? Is your problem short and lean or tall and fat? Blond or Brunette?

I have a friend who was dating a girl with an inoperable brain tumor. It was the first time I had ever known someone remotely close to me who had cancer, and it gave me a window into the life of people whose problems are infinitely more pressing than mine. I mean this woman is going to die from her problem. her troubles are literally carrying her to her grave, and so she did what most people in her situation do. She named her tumor. Like that great line from the movie Fight Club “If I did have a tumor I would name it Marla. Marla. The little scratch on the roof of your mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it, but you can't.”

What would you name your problem? Evelyn? Spencer? We know that everything is in a name. If you want your network to run smoothly, you need to use a good strategy in choosing a name for your computer. Some names are destine to have certain problems that are predictable. Something tells me this isn't as easy as naming a doll or a fish. (Though these are problematic too) Maybe more like naming a penis or a musical instrument.

So what is it going to be? Somewhere, out there, there is a free range problem, roaming around like spirits waiting for some chance encounter when one day they will adopt you. It might be a bit like a horse picking up a flea. The horse might be at first contently oblivious to the fact that he has a passenger, while the flea might be thinking “Wow! I have a horse on me.” Whatever the realization, gradually the awareness of the problem’s presence becomes noticeable. Like a pair of schoolgirls simultaneously jumping rope, your actions and those of your problems become quickly syncopated. If it hangs around long enough your problem and you might come to even look alike, like pets and their owners, or worse, like the old married couple that both wear flannel and have the same haircut. Soon you and your problem become indistinguishable.

It is at this point that you might want to think about divorce proceedings. Because, like any couple that has been together for a long time, you and your problems won’t separate easily, in fact chances are that the process will be a long, drawn out, and painful affair that lasts months or even years.

What would I name my problem(s). Like the demons in the movie Exorcist I might name them “Legion” for they seem like both many and one. But this would be unfair to my problem, and highlights the final problem in naming a problem. My constant companion has been with me for so long, I want to treat it with kid’s gloves. I want to be kind to it. I want to be gentle. I don’t want to name it “mucus” or “scumbag.” I want to give it some gentle, sensible name like Lillian or Bob and pretend that my problem(s) are sensible manageable people. This seems to ensure that the problem, whatever it is, is going to be with me a good long while.

Well, you talk about trouble, I had it all my days.
Trouble, had it all my days.
Seem like trouble, gonna carry me to my grave.