Greetings from The Keep On The Borderlands, where the ceilings collapse and the groundhogs grow fat and opulent in the Indiana sunshine as they slowly digest our entire yard.
On the pothole-riddled freeway of Time, the age of 50 is still a handful of exits away from me. And yet I find myself riddled with ailments that have turned tiny jars of Tiger Balm into some of my dearest friends.
Part of this is due to the fact that I am a Larger Mammal Than I Should Be, and my efforts to stop myself from ballooning out any further involve trips to the gym that take a toll on my already tested frame.
There are myriad projects in my life at any given time, and they get secret code names to amuse me. I call the exercise process Project Adipose.
I blame myself, of course, and my fondness for the many delicious creatures of the world (I have eaten alligators, sharks, bison and ostrich in my day.) But some of that blame also rests on the brow of Time.
Time (and things like pepperoni pizza) are betraying me, and so I apply the greasy unguents of modern medicine in an effort to feel better. Still, as I mount the stairs each morning on my way to the newsroom, I swear I can hear people traipsing over leaves and branches, thanks to the horrible music created by my joints.
Regardless, there are also some positives associated with this final year of my forties. Our daughter is getting married in April (Project Hand Off), at which point we officially hand over the keys and let someone else pay for her cell phone and such. In addition, earlier this week our son popped the question to his lady fair during their vacation, and she accepted the terms of his surrender.
In both cases our kids have found perfect matches for themselves, and I'm patiently waiting for a grandchild I can spoil rotten and then hand back to the responsible parent.
Time is constant, linear. Cruel and enriching. It gives and takes. It doesn't care, and yet without it we have nothing to look back on when we get old. Or the ability to get there.
Parts of me hurt. I've eaten beyond having easy access to certain other parts of me.
But I'm enjoying my Time.
STATUS REPORT
What I'm Listening To: I have developed a pattern in the car with the Bastard Satellite Radio of Love. In the morning on my way to work, I enjoy Chris Carter's Breakfast With The Beatles. And I do mean every morning. If I miss it, I'm grumpy for the rest of the morning. On the way home lately it's always the E Street Radio channel. I'm diving deep on Bruce, hearing stuff I'd forgotten about, discovering stuff I'd never heard before, and absorbing the new material from the past couple of years that I'd missed by having little connection to current music radio. The result is that I'm becoming a bigger Springsteen fan than I've ever been before.
The same is true with the music of The Beatles. When I was a kid I gravitated to the George songs the most, like Do You Want To Know A Secret? and Something. In my 20s I went through a huge John phase, both his work with the band and the mad genius pieces that came after they were done. In my 30s I became a big Paul fan, and I'm still there.
But now, I catch myself listening more closely to Paul's input, specifically, in their overall sound. The particular seasoning he brought to the ragout as a singer, a musician, and a writer. And this is aided by that peculiar bone in my brain that used to be able to pick up a bass guitar and play a song I'd only heard once or twice before. It allows me to carefully isolate his singing and his bass lines in the songs. And I realize now that Paul has always had so much more talent, especially on the bass, than I'd ever given him credit.
That said, my favorite joke-answer to the old who's your favorite Beatle? question is still "Stuart," because while factual it also serves to confuse the living shit out of people.
What I'm Watching: Holy shit. The Beloved Kim and I finally watched Good Omens. Speaking as a big Neil Gaiman fan, it was a great representation of his work. Speaking as a massive Terry Pratchett fanatic, it was one of the best interpretations of his writing I've ever seen on a screen. An absolute masterpiece. I've always loved David Tennant. Now he's on a pedestal with me and I'm ready to dive back into his run as The Tenth.
For reasons that are a mystery to me, I've recently gone back to the beginning on The Simpsons. It's hard to believe that first episode turns 30 come this Christmas. Damn you, Time!
I'd forgotten how nice the subtle nuances used to be on those early episodes. Bart praying to God to protect him from a bully, as Lisa remarks to herself "Prayer. The last refuge of a scoundrel..." And the Poe sequence from the first Halloween special still has the magic.
What I'm Reading: Re-reading, actually.
Because I have still yet to remember to buy any of his other books, I've dived back into The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear by Walter Moers.
I owe my love of this work to my brother Frank (not blood but a brother in just about every other way), who turned me on to it years ago. Frank was recently gifted another birthday by the aforementioned Time, and he likely has far more aches and pains than I do because he very old and very wise, like a dragon who enjoys a good bottle of Scotch.
Frank is also to blame for at least 80% of the authors I cherish, and was the first person to tell me about Terry Pratchett many years ago.
Captain Bluebear is a book that defies easy description. There's no review I can give you other than it was a lot of fun to read, and it's just as strong the second time around, several years after the first read.
I'm also reading the new X-Men comic books, and not particularly enjoying the new direction.
What I'm Working On. I've just finished a big project for the family reunion. Project LAW has finally come in for a landing.
A couple of dozen copies of a set of CDs filled with the favorite music of my late father-in-law, which was a request from someone who knows I do audio production. The song list took a long time to finalize, and at one point I was concerned there would be 5 CDs in the set. It finally landed at about 80 songs on 3 CDs. I like to think of it as the most important mixtape I've ever made. Hopefully it will be well-received.
Larry loved music, and we talked about it a lot.
Project Purple Sun is the working name for the new maybe-novel. I'm still doing research and grabbing the odd page or two out of the air and wrestling it onto the document, but the last time I did that was six days ago. I've been busy with the CDs and things related to work.
There is also Project Newspaper, a sequel to one of my older novels. I'm struggling hard with that and it might end up abandoned again. It has been fighting for life for six years now and the story just refuses to gel into something I can put on a spoon.
I've also been giving a lot of thought to Project Ice Cube lately, which would be a children's book that ties into some of my earlier work. Sadly it's been little more than a fleeting thought.
It has become late in the evening. The Beloved Kim will be home soon and it's time for Project Feed The Dog And Cat. Take care of you, be good to those around you, and spit in the eye of Time today.