You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby
You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby

You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby

You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby

As hard as it is to believe, it’s already been ten weeks since I was in the hospital, which I talked about in May’s blog post. My weeks have been full of physical therapy appointments to try to get the mobility and strength back in my right arm, a very slow process. It’s been revelatory discovering how much something deemed the “accessory nerve” can affect things. As the doctors explained, that nerve doesn’t like being exposed to air, and it was out in the open for a long time during the surgery.

I’m nothing if not a child of Seventies AM radio, and one of the songs that popped into my head recently was You Don’t Have to Be a Star, by Billy Davis, Jr., and Marilyn McCoo. So upbeat and positive, with such catchy lyrics, I’m sure it could cure most of one’s ills with repeated listening. But its core message is a good reminder that, like the accessory nerve, it doesn’t take a star to move the needle a great deal one way or the other.

Billy Davis, Jr. and Marilyn McCoo 1977

At first listen, you might think the lyrics mean that Billy Davis, Jr., will take you in as part of his show even if you’re nothing special. Show up, get in. It could come across as slightly negative (although with someone like Marilyn McCoo, how could that ever be possible?). But look a little deeper, and you’ll see that what he’s saying is that the real you, however you are right now, is what counts: “…come as you are, with just your heart / To me you’re worth what you have within.” The presence of your essence is key. No other effort required.

Takes the Pressure Off

It’s a very American way of looking at things in terms of being better, going faster, doing more. If you aren’t getting shit done every single second of every day, then there’s clearly something wrong with you. But that’s crazy-making and counterproductive. Destructive, even. I’ve had plenty of time on my hands this summer, but having the time isn’t the same as being able to do anything with it. Sometimes we need to scale back. And knowing that you can come as you are, merely show up in some way, and be accepted — first and foremost by yourself — really takes the pressure off.

Down and Out on the Range

Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry

We wrapped up Lonesome Dove over at Doorstoppers a few days ago. One of the main characters, Clara, finds herself down and out on the range. Nursemaid to a husband who has been incapacitated after being kicked in the head by a horse and having lost her sons, she remembers that she had refined tastes and enjoyed reading. She even had aspirations to write, but, frustrated and dejected, she burns her blank journals. While I can get behind some rage burning, I think she would’ve felt better just writing about her problems even if she never did anything beyond that (and that would’ve already been a lot).

Time to Relax, Rest, and Recuperate

Before I got this diagnosis in April I was looking forward to finishing some iteration of the draft of my novel this summer. Now I’m trying to remember when the last time was that I even looked at that draft. But it’s okay. I’ve had time to relax, rest, and recuperate, which obviously needed to be the focus. I might not have made any progress on my draft, but I’ve done other things. I’ve watched a few movies, read quite a bit, and even updated our Library Thing database to include our maps (a totally overboard thing to do, if ever there was one). I’ve kept up with my blogging. And it’s been enough.

My arm is slowly improving, and I’m now on the cusp of starting the special low-iodine diet (LID) prior to radiation treatment, which I’ll do in the hospital at the end of August. I’m not that concerned about the diet, since it doesn’t seem to differ all that much from what I normally eat. I’m sure I’ll miss eggs, but one month isn’t that long to go without them, or without any of the other things I can’t have. Famous last words — check back with me in four weeks when I’m ready to dunk my head into an extra large bucket of buttered popcorn!

And this leads me back to Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis, Jr. Be yourself, show up, and you, too, can be in the show. You don’t have to be a star, baby. And that sounds perfect to me!

Image at top of post of Billy Davis, Jr., and Marilyn McCoo, 1977, CBS Television, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons


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