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Showing posts from April, 2010

Passings, passages, and pastures

I'm likely halfway through my life, if my life were something that were simply measured up against an actuarial table. In reality, I have no idea how much longer I have. None of us do, really. Is it morbid to think about the end? People often interpret me that way when I write or say comments like the one above. I think it's important to think about death, and the light that this one ninevitable fact shines so strongly upon the rest of our lives. Who do we want to be? How do we want to be remembered? How can we make the most of whatever time we have on this magnificent yet bewildering world upon which our lives turn? Death hasn't called upon many people in my life, so it's kind of a shock when two people I know die in the course of a month. One was Tim Davis, murdered in cold blood when he watching the sunset in the mountains. Those facts still shock me, and his passing makes me regret all I could have learned from him about radio. The other was Marvin Hilton

Splurging on the Flaming Lips

Seven years ago, I began the process of falling in love with someone to the Flaming Lips album "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots." Futuristic themes of fate were presented in songs such as "All We Have Is Now" and "Do You Realize?" and they resonated with me. I can't fully time travel myself back to a point where my synapses are firing in that same way. But I do recall that at the time I was very unhappy. Listening to the songs over and over in the spring of 2003 filled me with some sense of urgency that I'd better try to seize happiness no matter the cost. There's a certain danger when you selectively pull things from the collective consciousness to suit your needs, but every now and then you have to take a leap of faith in the hopes that the next continent will be more fruitful. I can honestly say I don't have any regrets about the damage done as that particular morality play unfolded. The details, however, are not for public consum

To finish a blog post

Lately, I've been unable to finish any of the drafts that I've started here for this little ol' blog.  I'm tried writing about my garden, tried to write about the ten-miler, tried to write about the death of Tim Davis. I sit down and start, but I can't finish. The chief reason why I don't finish anything is that my leisure time has more or less disappeared, again. For reasons I can't state publicly, it's important for me to work as much as possible and this more or less means taking on additional work at Court Square Tavern. Last night, I worked at Tastings for the second time, this time as a waiter. Every day of my life these days feels like a trip to the dentist, filled with a mixture of dread, terror and numb. Yet, there are still glimpses of pure joy. I don't feel sad, though I certainly don't feel this life has shaped up the way I thought it might and there are tremendous wells of sadness all around me. I have to constantly be on battl