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life has felt very... "bookended," lately. deja vu, as it were. in other words, things that defined a time long since past are resurfacing, yet again. musically, especially. last week, the Bowie-Strummer thing. this week it's IggyPop. when i had enough money to waste on my own idiocy, it was always music... as it always has been. amongst the first albums i ever bought was RawPower. loud. repugnant. relentless. in a (made-up word), "Stooge-y." i'm still not tired of it. hey, at least it's not fodder for ClassicRock. and now this. not much new ground covered, but high volume shrouds a multitude of sins. my inner child hasn't progress so awful much, either, i suppose. tough. in between these ends of the spectrum has been a career. today, i was presented with a plaque (interesting how this word also describes poor dental hygiene)... commemorating twenty years of working at this same place. scary. if i let it, thinking about it would be a traumatic experience. i'm less traumatized by the fact that i haven't turned out to be like most that have such history... a callous, sophisticated asshole. or so i hope. it didn't help when i got the wild hair to figure out how many miles of commuting it all added up to be. 186 miles a week. 48 weeks a year (conservatively). 20 years. 148k miles. around the world almost twelve times. fuck me. no wonder the escape of thrashy guitars is so appealing. |
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