Good Lord, Roger Daltrey was STILL fine as of Live8. I remember thinking the same thing, like, 10 years ago or even 15 years ago. Is he ever going to age? What is he, 60? Over! Older than my dad! Born during the Blitz!

He’s finer now than he was then.

Thank God those horrible you know what crusher jeans went away.

And his wikipedia entry says he had short man complex.

I love this Pete Townshend quote:

“Was it simply rock ‘n’ roll? It was obvious to a young man as intelligent as Roger that there was no future in conforming any more.”

Unless, I might add, you are conforming to giving some serious thought to how your decisions affect yourself, those around you, the environment, and the rest of the world, especially those who can’t speak for themselves. The butterfly effect is exponential now.  So don’t conform… at least not to the mindless same old crap. Think it over. Give a damn.


I need my ADD meds.  🙂

Don’t Get Fooled Again is the title of my series of resolutions for 09, based largely on guilting myself about 08.

Wait, shouldn’t I be resolving not to guilt myself any more? Especially not about things like, um, working too hard? Doing too much? Taking care of everyone and everything but me first? Sigh. It’s a vicious cycle. Okay that’s another resolution.

I am procrastinating. Shouldn’t I be resolving not to procrastinate?  Well… I think one of the most important uses of time today is just… thinking. So that’s okay.

My coworker said to me the other day ‘you got to get your mind right, Luke.’ I said that’s from Star Wars, right? What a look he gave me. Hah! The difference between generations has shrunk down to ten years, you know? Cool Hand Luke ’67, Star Wars ’77. Now I ask you. In those ten years, what the hell happened?

I am calling the series Don’t Get Fooled Again because of what is foremost in my mind right now. This is the first to get jotted down of several of my resolutions, not necessarily because it is number one, it’s just on my mind.

This season slipped right by me! Okay so there was an item or two beyond my control (there was?? You mean I can’t control my aged loved ones having strokes? DAMMIT!) but if I’d had it together a side trip to sit in DePaul Medical Center and take a sentimental journey through my grandmother’s startlingly  memory-packed house wouldn’t faze me. (Did you know faze is a real word with a real etymology of its own? I didn’t! Kind of like shet.)

Starting with Labor Day, but especially around October 1, this is (was) The Most Wonderful Time… Of The Year.

I bought a bunch of clear bins from Wal Mart and I am going to pack all my holiday stuff away with a list of what’s in there taped on the outside and write dates to open on both my calendar and the boxes.

The season all sort of munges together. Come mid September or so, it’s time to get out the autumn pretties… then come The Nightmare Before Christmas and the skulls… then the autumn pretties again for Thanksgiving… then Nightmare Revisited to listen to while decorating the tree– Kidnap the Sandy Claws! by Korn– oops, spontaneous headbanging moment, thanks Kim!!! I’m awash in memories of seeing Korn when they were nobody, in a warehouse in Knoxville TN with a cement floor, and my future sister in law crowdsurfing– hellraiser! I liked to knock around but could never be that hard core.

Ah… perhaps life really is good.

Then, well, here we are at Dec. 31. Even if we were partying tonight, I think it would still be more lashing out against the letdown of the end of the season than a true celebration.

I won’t take the tree down till at least tomorrow.  It wouldn’t be right. I have this knee jerk reflex– CHRISTMAS HATH 12 DAYS AND NIGHTS.  But I don’t think I’ll wait til Epiphany, I think I’ll just have it done by then so I can start fresh on Day 13, ya know?

But I’m packing it all up. Halloween (labeled This Is Halloween) and Christmas (labeled What’s This?)… and I promise, girls, no mothballs unless  it’s a natural fiber.  (You mean moths don’t eat polyester??? who knew??? Moths eating my stuff is one of my biggest irrational phobias). The skull apron for Halloween, the Snowman apron for the holidays (thanks Courtney, the dishtowel QUEEN who brings me these cool dishtowels for the coolest aprons evah!), you know. An apron for every occasion.

So that’s my resolution. Fall, my birthday, Halloweeen, my anniversary, Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah… I’m putting you away for now.  But come on, September. Next year I’ll be ready. I’m off to pack.