The World Keeps On Spinning
I go a week without posting and life seemingly goes on without missing a step. I'm actually a bit insulted. I keep hitting refresh on CNN--nothing. Not a peep.
Been writing a ton, perhaps too much, I'm sort of all over the place right now. In the next few days I'll be sharing a monster post about the elasticity of memory (with Tootsie Pops heavily involved), as well a steaming pile high as the Himalayas about my views about writing as a way of life. And yes, there will be dick jokes.
Before I go to bed, let me once again take a moment to hopefully bring some light into your life. As you move through life you occasionally stumble across wonders and delights that bring such joy you can't imagine how you once lived without them. If you haven't had the chance to enjoy the following, at least dip a toe and see what you think:
- Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper. I know, it sounds absurd. It is in fact divine. The mere existence of this soft drink makes me proud to be an American again. A worldwide Marxist revolution would not have come up with Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper.
- Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Again, I know it sounds absurd. It is in fact sublime. Sublimely stupid and goofy. Oh, how often Frylock and Master Shake and Meatwad soothed my raging soul with their idiotic adventures? Number one in the hood, G.
- Richard Thompson. The day I moved into my house I had to run to the store to pick up some stuff, and on the way back I heard a song I absolutely loved. I sat in my driveway for 10 minutes and the goddam station didn't say the name of the song or the artist, but for some reason I got it stuck in my head that it was Richard Thompson. Who I'd heard precious little of in my life. Chalk it up to the power of the subconscious. I set myself a quest last weekend, to identify that song. Which, five years later, I'd pretty much forgotten. I found it last Saturday. The song was "I Can't Wake Up to Save My Life". I've woken up, at last, to Richard Thompson.
Time for bed. I may even post something tomorrow. Edges of seats await anxious backsides.