Well, halloooooooo there 2019! Whatchoo got for me, honey?
Despite one of my sorta kinda new year-y resolutions being that I would earnestly and consistently blog (at least a teensy one) on my own website every single day, in truth, I have to confess that, so far, I’ve done pretty much dick all in the first, innocent weeks of this year except eat massive amounts of fudge and chocolate.
If you came of age in the 90s, you’ll likely remember Amy Ray and Emily Saliers as the Indigo Girls. Their music was the background music of the indie lifestyle, and indeed, they seemed to be everywhere, racking up Gold and Platinum records, receiving a Grammy in 1990 for Best Contemporary Folk Album, and becoming part of our mass consciousness, referenced in such diverse environs as Stephen King‘s Rose Madder, and the television series, Will and Grace, South Park, and The Big Bang Theory.
“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” – The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien
Since I’m effectively agoraphobic during winter, it seems like a good time to turn my attention to this mess around me that I’ve accumulated, and scan through the wee bits of paper on which I’ve written a germ of an idea, usually accompanied by an *asterisk* and several exclamation points!!! I just have to haul them out from under the weight of the newspaper clippings, flyers, magazines, library books and paper backs they’ve landed under, over and in between.
Fifty years on, the assassination of President John F. Kennedy still sparks painful memories in the hearts and minds of North American Baby Boomers. Where were you on November 22, 1963, when the American “Camelot” ended?
Kennedy was an impossibly exotic vision to the families of the 60’s. He was the first Irish Catholic to be elected President, something that at that time seemed as impossible as there ever being an African American in the White House. (Or a woman, for that matter, but that will happen too.) He was young, a war hero, from a large and seemingly happy family, and he seemed so very much what we all wanted our families to look like.
Looks like summer is packing up her bags and leaving us for another year. Can’t say I’ll miss her; she had quite an attitude. In fact, if this summer was a woman, I’d call her Kim Kardashian; entitled, bestowing her gifts grudgingly, smiling only for the camera, and crying at inopportune moments. (kimcrying)
Canadians yearn for hot, sunny days though 
the cold snows of winter – it’s what keeps us from succumbing to cabin fever and despair. I’m already dreading the weight of winter coats and boots, and praying I don’t add to the total of just how many times one person can break an ankle.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 