Been a loooooong time since I’ve posted. Probably be another long time before I do so again. It’s summer, and with taking the kids to this thing and that thing and other various personal obsessions taking up my time, blogging isn’t actually a priority.
BUT!!!
So much is happening that bears comment.
My birthday came and went, making me 45 years old. More importantly, I am now a 45 year old man with his very own laptop. WHOOHOO! My family loves me!
This great gift segues into my current obsession, online poker. Don’t worry, I’m not gambling away the family fortune. It’s all play money, but with opportunity to win free money, and as everyone knows, I’m all about the free stuff. Hell, I’ve been banned from the Costco because of my lurking around the free sample kiosks.
Michael Jackson. I can’t honestly say the man impacted on my life, other than as a curiosity and “Beat It,” as a song to master on Guitar Hero. His death was, by all accounts, not exactly untimely, (no one can survive with all those drugs in their system), nor, after the initial shock, surprising (again, his drug use wasn’t exactly a secret). I am saddened for his family, losing a loved one is hard.
Unfortunately, a man like Jacko generates the same kind of bizarre hoopla in death as in life. On the news people who got tickets! to his memorial were as excited as though they were going to some invitation only rock concert. God almighty, are the expecting to see Michael wheeled out on a dolly a-la Hannibal Lector dressed in his “Thriller” outfit? And even though the tickets! were given through some online lottery, many who received them are selling them on eBay.
The man is dead. Memorials are to pay tribute to the dead. The only good thing is that hopefully, the Jackson family won’t attend the farce. Then again.
Once again Toronto has gained the notoriety it truly deserves. Due to its ongoing garbage strike, ‘Toronto the Good’ has been given a travel advisory warning, ranked third behind Libya’s bubonic plague and the military coup in Honduras.
Best part about that, neither the city nor the city unions are even at the bargaining table.
Martin Streek, a local DJ whom I listened to on and off on CFNY was found dead, an apparent suicide. Streek was one of those DJ’s who was always there, a mainstay of a station that played the Clash, Nirvana, even Rush before other stations even knew who these bands were. But times change and my listening tastes have mellowed so I don’t listen as much. Evidently, Martin got fired some time last May and I guess life went down hill for the guy.
Oddly, Streek's death affects me more than Michael Jackson, though I have no more enduring connection to him than to Jacko.
Writing continues. Putting the finishing touches on the big book, making sure eye color stays the same, that sort of thing. Got a couple short stories pushed up to the editor, but have to wait till fall for a final rejection, er, decision.
Overall, my life is good. I am happy, my family is happy, except for my youngest daughter who can’t seem to find her Cinnamon Toast Crunch, oh, she found it. Never mind. We’re all happy.
Hope you are all happy, too.
Mike