Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Blogging time

I started this as a test. In preparing my firm's website I came across a host of articles on marketing one's business, including the use of blogs. So, on a whim, I set up this site. I don't know that it is something I will keep up for ages to come, but every now and again it serves as a form of catharsis.

I come across other blogs by regular folk and I wonder just how in the hell do these people find time to do a damn thing other than blogging? It's stunning. Am I spending too much time sleeping, working, and hanging out with my family? (To which the wife would respond yes, probaby not, and no way.) That's valuable time I could otherwise muse to a computer screen, after all.

I need to get my priorities straight ...

Sunday, March 9, 2008

You don't tug on Superman's cape

Or spit in the wind. Or pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger.

The evening started off with a bit of Carly Simon. Yes, I am vain, but I damn well know she never wrote a song about me. Then it segued over to Carol King, for reasons that had as much to do with hair as her songwriting and singing. Tapestry-era hair. And that led to Wikipedia, the collective wisdom of the masses. I was stunned at the songs that King had written. The woman's a genius and then some.

The talk shifted to the mellow zone of the 70s music scene, which led to James Taylor, which somehow led me to Jim Croce.

Every time I listen to Jim Croce I go back and forth from laughing to reaching for a Kleenex. And it hit me - the guy died long before he reached my current age. What a loss.

I admit to some jealousy. Quite a bit. Look at what Jim Croce did by the time he passed too soon. Then I recall that he left a little boy who never knew his dad. Back to the Kleenex.

Not that it's a choice or trade off, but I'll settle for my lower key life, without the fame, thankful rather than for glory, for the time I've got with my child. I look forward to teaching the boy to sing along with Bad Bad Leroy Brown, laughing along, and someday I'll tell him why I'll be crying a little bit too as we sing loud and proud.