The crush of middle age is upon me, folks. Full bore! And I've got blogger's block something fierce too. Bad combo. But I'm giving it a go here, attempting to snatch victory from the jaws of spiritual defeat. Look at me: buying some real estate and adding another social security number to the rolls during an economic depression. Dicey! [Breaking News: Actually TWO new SS #'s!!]. Remember when your whole M.O. was to avoid living a life of "quiet desperation"? Books and music were going to save us. By the time you realize your liberal arts education was designed to fulfill the self-indulgent solipsism of youth, you've become a "content provider" scraping for a shred of dignity in the digital age. How poetic! Then one day you wake up and find yourself on your knees on the sidewalk flipping through boxes of crappy $1 vinyl like some vagrant off his meds: Hey, maybe this Strawbs album will be good. Pathetic. (Btw, it's horrible.) Can't remember who said it, but life is
just one
I Don't Believe in Miracles - Colin Blunstone
distraction
Goin' Down to Laurel - Steve Forbert
after
Oh Yes My Lord - Voices of Conquest
another.
Calico Silver - Write Me Down (Don't Forget My Name) - Kenny Rogers & the New Edition
Well, it'll do in a pinch.
2 comments:
Brother, you're a kind of poet. The content you provide is never less than diverting, and often inspirational. You have a sprinkling of fervent admirers in south London who dig your scene, baby.
So damnably, sadly, spot-on.
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