Blast From Your Past

Just as true today as it was 40 years ago.

Wild Kind of Look to the Day

Talk Amongst Yourselves

In my lifetime, I've seen people literally give their lives for the right to vote.

I've watched Chinese students stand up to tanks.

I've watched Gorbachov take power back from the Army.

I've seen people willing to pledge their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor just to be able to cast ballots.

Compared to that, my petty concerns about waiting in line (or the incompetence of polling place workers) just seem ridiculous.

So...

Vote.

Hurricane Sandy Telethon

In Case You Missed It

And donate a few bucks to the Red Cross while you're at it, okay?

Compare and Contrast

So if You Co-Wrote Both Songs, It's Okay If They're Basically the Same?

Speaking of SR-71, a reader pointed out that their song "Axl Rose":




has a lot in common musically and subject-wise... with Bowling For Soup's "1985" (co-written by Mitch Allan from SR-71):

Vast and Containing Multitudes

I've Been Hitting the Town and It Didn't Hit Back

Question: Is it possible for a bad simultaneously to sound more lightweight and edgier than Paul McCartney?

Answer:

The Aurora Is Rising Behind Us

Stay Safe.

Jenny Was Sweet

News is blue, Has its Own Way to Get to You...

I got a call. From Jenny.

We'd gone to High School together. We were friends, but not close. We hung around with the same group of people. I'm sure we talked from time to time.

We hadn't spoken in years. Many, many years.

And she contacted me. Out of the blue.

We had a long talk. She'd lived overseas. She had lots of stories to tell. She told me about her work -- which was interesting. Something I may have thought years earlier I could have done, but now have zero interest in.

It was a great conversation. We vowed to keep in touch.




Jenny told me that she'd always remembered something I said to her.

And she told me what the thing was.

I didn't remember it -- although I recognized it as the type of thing I would have said.

"I thought about what you told me every day for ten years," she said. "It inspired me and helped me make myself who I am."

Which I'm happy about.

Except.

I don't remember saying it. I'm sure I did -- but it didn't register for me.

Even though it clearly registered for her.




But that's not the worst of it.

I knew Jenny's name. I could almost remember what she was like.

But I couldn't picture her. I knew the associations. Knew the connections. Knew the people.

But I couldn't remember which one she was.

That part of the puzzle is a blank for me.

Like the words I said.

And I don't feel good about this.

Because it makes me wonder. What else I've forgotten.

And what else was vital to others and barely registered for me.