It's a Monday morning. And the final day of another month of all our lives that is slipping away into oblivion and the beyond. Time and life (not the magazines) - always in their relentless march, leaving us grasping at the air and begging for yesteryear.
I recently had some advice for a college freshman who had just moved into his dorm: Leave your door open at all hours and say hi to every single person who walks by. Not creepy hi. Not lame hi. Not sarcastic, I'm-a-skateboard-punk-who-says-hi-as-a-way-of-being-funny-to-my-skateboard-punk-friends hi. Just a nice, friendly smile and a "hey, what's up?" Don't be like me - wasting your freshman year living in a cave, seeing only unfriendly faces whenever you cross path with others when in all likelihood, they're just putting up a tough front like you. And this got me to wondering what I'm doing wrong now. What advice would my future self be screaming at me if he could go back in time (but naturally be unable to be heard by me or even seen...like Scrooge in A Christmas Carol)? Is he standing here right now, pleading with me, warning me, frantically trying to prevent the sands from slipping through the hourglass?
I find that the Foo Fighters (or maybe simply Dave Grohl's voice) always makes me feel 19 or 20. Whereas Thom Yorke's voice (Radiohead) feels more mid-20s. And Daniel Johns (Silverchair) seems to fit my current age, place, time, spot in the sun. (What any of that means to you, dear readers, I have no idea...I'm simply musing openly this morning...)
This weekend I was lucky enough to catch "Inglorious Basterds." Superb film. Much better than the current elitist flavor-of-the-year "District 9." IB didn't follow any predictable plot-line and at no point could I discern where the moving was going - meaning, no tired sigh and me thinking to myself "O-kay...I see what's going to happen now....get on with it..." (a very refreshing and pleasing aspect). The style was inescapably Tarantino-esque, but it also did not feel like a rehashing of his older works.
The poor souls who encounter me on a daily basis will now be burdened by an onslaught of Inglorious Basterds lines, repeated ad nauseum, for at least the coming weeks.
That's all I have this morning, folks. Keep fighting the good fight - trying to keep those hourglass sands at bay.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment