Musical Interlude

I've got to finish a piece for World Wide Hippies today and if I get started on something over here, I'll get side tracked for sure.  I'm still all into changing patterns.  We could all go ahead and interpret that as as me being focused on Romance, but there's more to it than that.  Somehow, I always seem to be able to take the smallest thing and find metaphorical implications that explain contemporary societal issues.  Maybe that's what the guy who won't see me meant when he referenced my tendency toward drama - but really, now that Keith Olbermann and MSNBC have secured the Drama Queen crown for themselves, I should be in the clear.   In any case, today I'm pondering the patriarchal significance of Smurfette - but that's for World Wide Hippies.

Here at Menopausal Stoners World Headquarters, it's a Steely Dan kind of morning.  HQ will remain HQ once I leave Central Park West for Austin, Texas.  Both are good, but it's important to recognize that I think of myself as living on Central Park West as opposed to New York City.  Once I'm in Austin, I'm making a home that's like a Yoga retreat.  I'm pretty sure there aren't any yoga retreats in New York City.  Not as quiet as I like retreats to be, anyway.  In New York City, you need to turn on your own music to insulate yourself from the noise - which is why all those people wear iPods everywhere they go.  I don't like to insulate myself from the crowds because I feel like you might as well experience everything you do to the absolute fullest.  That experiential intensity might have been what he meant by Drama.

I have calmed the fuck down over the last couple of years because I've been resolving major situations.  First and foremost, Buzz Kill and I have come to an understanding so that we can work together well and remain cordial.  I don't have to wonder when we're selling the apartment because we're selling it this spring, and I'll be buying a house in Austin no matter what happens - at least that's Plan A.  Plan B, too.   Of course, variables are constantly in flux for everyone, so all anyone can do is have Plan A and Plan B. 

The main focus of my life for the last couple of years has been successfully separating geographically from Velvet.  The Nest is gloriously empty, and he's singing his Victory Song up there at Hookah House.  Prematurely, if you ask me, given that he's still on academic probation, but it's exceedingly difficult to convince a 20 year old male of anything, so let him sing.

When I think of separating from Velvet, I remember how NASA would track and report the stages of separation when rockets were launched to the moon.  Right now, both Velvet and I are blasting off for new territory, and that heavy, home bound stuff is successfully behind us.

Looking at all the transitions and transformations that I have admirably managed, more or less, I still find Reelin' In The Years motivational on account of the line:  You've been telling me you're a genius since you were seventeen . . .



Dr. Wu is always relevant because in the final analysis, we're all ordinary guys, asking ourselves Have you done all you can do?  At least we should be.



Rikki Don't Loose That Number goes out to that guy who won't see me - wherever he is. As it happens, I'm the one whose leaving, but he could have a change of heart. A girl can hope.



I have to say, though, that even if I'm bothered when somebody finds me too intense, somewhere deep inside, I believe those guys are pussies.