April 3
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 

This will undoubtedly be the last entry I will have time to write before the thing in the Register.  I was going to write a snotty thing about people in New Haven who drive in ways that infuriate me (that's right, Mr. I'm Much MUCH Too Important To Wait In The Turn Lane Line Like Everyone Else trying to get onto Legion--I'm looking right at YOU).  Then I realized that being bitchy about my fellow New Haveners (Havenites?) when they know exactly what I look like might not be the wisest choice, and since I'm already getting a very bad feeling about this whole thing, I'm not going to press my luck.  Do you remember (if you were alive then, you'd have actually caught the program.  If you are me, you've seen it a million times on VH1 or a ROCKUMENTARY) back in, say 1967 or 1968 when the Doors were going to be on the Ed Sullivan Show?  And everyone who worked on the show were freaking out because Jim Morrison was known to be very tempermental and hard to reign in?  And they were going to sing "Light My Fire", but no one wanted him to say "...girl we couldn't get much higher", so they told him to substitute the word with something---anything else, and they all swore that they would?  Remember this? You remember the backdrop of the set--doors, hanging from the walls.  You remember the first notes, how the whole thing went, and then, the crucial moment. The close up on Jim Morrison's face as he sings it:  "girl we couldn't get much......hiiigghherrr..." and everyone exhales, because there.  He did it.  Whattdya say NOW, pally?

That's kind of how I feel with this article.  Everyone telling me not to do it.  Me sort of thinking I'm not going to do it, but then doing it at the last minute.  Except, of course, I'm not Jim Morrison and this isn't such a big deal.  Isn't that right, co-workers, boss and family?  It's not such a big deal!!!  Okay, maybe it is.  Please save your anger and hatred for something I do that's really bad.  I'm sure not to dissapoint!
 

It is perhaps a sign that the War on Iraq is getting to me when I find myself, as I'm scanning through the stations on the radio, (I've been known to keep the radio on scan for ENTIRE TRIPS, only stopping long enough to catch a song I like, and then, scanning again.  See why yoga isn't for me?)  stopping on "Stars and Stripes Forever".  I am all choked up! Even the obnoxious piccolo part, the part that makes dogs howl and me want to jam out my ears with a fork--even THAT part!  I like it!  Hell, I LOVE it!! I listen to the whole thing, driving along with tears in my eyes, not ever having really listened to how cool the song is.  When it ends, I expect to hear the familiar voice of an NPR announcer.  Instead?  I get a Connecticut yeee haw.  It was the country station.  The COUNTRY STATION, people!!!

Stop the war.  It's turning me into a giant hick.
 
 

the other day   -   home   -   email   -   soon