It is in my nature

Merry Christmas!  I'm blogging again.  Just too many ideas in my head not to.

First, I was reflecting on the biography of genius jazz guitarist, Ted Greene [who sadly passed away much too soon] written by his widow [they were never married, but that's a minor nit, she was for all practical purposes his wife] Barbara Franklin.  What struck me was the story how late in his life Ted came under the thrall of a homeless women. And Ted, having a heart as large as his knowledge of chord theory, started - more or less secretly - providing money to this homeless woman.  And the woman concocted ever more complex and compelling tales of hardship and misery and imminent disaster in order to fuel Ted's sympathy. Only after some time had elapsed did Ted realize that he was being conned by an addict, a low-life, a grifter.  The story struck me as sad, and maybe a little funny - funny in the way that is not entirely unsympathetic to either Ted or the women.

Which is to say, the story is a bit like the koan about the frog and the scorpion, in which the scorpion, perched on the back of the frog as he is ferried across the river by his benevolent host the frog, stings the frog thus assuring that both will drown. When the frog, dying, asks the scorpion why, why have you done this?  The scorpion replies "It is in my nature."

This notion, "It is in my nature" permeates so many of the things I think about.  The recent brilliant song "Belinda" [lyrics by Nick Hornby / music by Ben Folds] is but one example.  In it, the singer, evidently a man in his fifties or perhaps early sixties, is singing about his one hit, the eponymous Belinda.  He is wistful, he is sorry, he misses Belinda. Why did he ever leave her? He met a stewardess who had "blonde hair, big breasts, a nice smile ... she gave me complimentary champagne." 

In short, it was in his nature.