Left to my own devices

Years ago, my mom, maternal grandmother ("Gummy") and I were sitting around, talking, and the subject of what the favorite time of our lives was came up in conversation. I don't remember what mom's answer was, but Gummy (born in 1928) said, "Probably 1938/1939. that period right in there." She went on to say that she thought most people would, posed with the same question, give an answer that would fall somewhere in their childhood. That often seems to be the knee-jerk, default response most folks have about when they thought things were best. You know, the 'good old days.' What I liked then, and appreciate now, about Gummy's reasoning was its honesty. She acknowledged the personal nature of her response. Of course she thought the world was better when she was ten. Everyone's life is different, but for many, being a kid, unburdened by the responsibilities of adulthood, can come with a unique level of happiness, even if it may only be appare...

Did I ever tell you about the time I pretended to be sick, so I wouldn't have to go to school, and my mom didn't believe me? It was during the mid-eighties -- maybe 1984, or '85? We were still living in the modest house on Draper Sr. that I'd called home since birth, and I was attending Westview elementary. One morning, I didn't want to go to school, and told mom that I wasn't feeling well. She wasn't buying it. In addition to that, she mentioned (in a rather frustrated tone) that she had some errands to run, and couldn't do so if I was going to be home. She stared at me for a few moments, waiting for me to admit it was all a ruse, but I held firm.

In a few years, I'll be 40. The preceding sentence was typed with no excitement. Perhaps some slight gratitude of living into another decade. But certainly no anticipation of the age. I was thinking about this t'other day, and how much the sensation of growing older now differs from how it used to feel then . As a kid, getting older was a crusade. It started with an idolization of the teenage years, and reached its zenith in pining to become a full-fledged, college-aged adult, doing all the things I saw teens and early-twenty-somethings doing in 1980s' movies. Of course, those years came soon enough, and then ended almost just as quickly as they'd begun (or at least that's how it seems in hindsight). Overall, being a teenager and college-aged person were all right. Not ideal, but then how many of us get to enjoy the idealized version of life? I went to classes, got to drive a car, had sex for the first time, went to nightclubs, had my first beer, etc. ...

Yesterday we focused on the original  Night of the Living Dead . It is my opinion that there hasn't been a better zombie movie since that 1968 classic. If any serious film has come close (there have been some humorous outings within the genre), it would have to British director Danny Boyle's 2002 horror gem...

There was a free sampling of Sirius/XM Radio over the Labor Day weekend, and so I was able to partake of its offerings for a few days. I had the satellite radio package for a free, three-month trial after purchasing a car last year, but while it contained a nice variety of music and information channels, it wasn't enough for me to sign-up and become a paying customer. And this weekend reminded me of a glaring issue with one of its stations -- 90s on 9 (or, music from the 1990s, on the 9th channel of Sirius/XM 1). The issue, dear reader, is that the 1990s presents too-diverse of a line-up to provide a coherent listening experience. The aforementioned issue (opinion?) isn't a new one. I can remember sitting at my friend Terry's apartment, circa 1997, when he remarked upon the diversity of Top 40 radio for the decade. I consider Terry to be somewhat of an authority when it comes to the world of music, and so what he said carried some weight. I thought about it, and ...

Adam Yauch, founding member of the Beastie Boys rap/rock group, passed away yesterday aged 47. He leaves behind a wife and daughter. Also left behind are a plethora of mourning fans and devotees. Along with Yauch, a piece of our modern pop culture has died.