iraq, iraq, iraq. baker, bush. obama. mitt and maccain. death tolls, dead spies and daniel shorr. ack. it was an unconscious flip of the dial. just like that, i powered up the i-tunes trove (one thing i have left from the g.c. anyway) and madness, michelle and melissa were bouncing off these old walls, and making my closet re-do seem like a breeze.
i was twang-a-langing along with "the grass is always greener", when i realized. it hit me like a piano on the head falling out of buster keaton's 12th floor window. it has been months since i've played anything but the saddest of songs here. and even those soundtracks remained mostly quiet.
declan will still have to wait, but seems like just about everybody else can croon in my ear now.
rockefeller claimed to have begun his fortune as a small boy, when he nightly hoarded the pennies in his pockets. then there's that concept of fluttering butterfly wings starting a tsunami thousands of miles away...
frequently, i'm asked the question, "what's the best wine you've ever had?" usually i reply, "i hope i haven't had it yet." very few appreciate the distinction i make between being stuck in the past savoring something already had, and remaining always hopeful for something even mo' bettah in the future.
played anything but the saddest of songs here. and even those soundtracks remained mostly quiet.
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