GHT
I'll Lock Up
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A disturbing realisation came with the sad loss of David Bowie and Alan Rickman, both were 69. I'm 69.
Me, too.A disturbing realisation came with the sad loss of David Bowie and Alan Rickman, both were 69. I'm 69.
Or maybe I myself am *also* dead and I just don't know it yet.
Or trapped in a 30's time warp..
Well, "trapped" implies that you want to get out.
What's disturbing to me is the realization that every musical personality I enjoy with the exception of Bea Wain, Vera Lynn, and Baby Rose Marie, is dead. I spend entire days being entertained by the voices of a generation that within the next couple of years, tops, will be as extinct as the dodo. And yet to me they're as alive as I am.
Or maybe I myself am *also* dead and I just don't know it yet.
This was possibly the most disheartening thing about the way my father-in-law's life ended. He'd always been an independent, do it yourself, "jack of all trades, master of some" kind of guy. As his years advanced his body slowly failed, but he was mentally sharp to the day he died and was well aware of the ever-increasing list of things he could no longer do. Sometimes I wonder if it's not better to have some form of disorder that robs us of that awareness as we draw closer to our last breath....I’m still able to enjoy some things.
I realize that someday I won’t be able...
This was possibly the most disheartening thing about the way my father-in-law's life ended. He'd always been an independent, do it yourself, "jack of all trades, master of some" kind of guy. As his years advanced his body slowly failed, but he was mentally sharp to the day he died and was well aware of the ever-increasing list of things he could no longer do. Sometimes I wonder if it's not better to have some form of disorder that robs us of that awareness as we draw closer to our last breath.
HiDeck the halls with advertising,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
'Tis the time for merchandising,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Profit never needs a reason,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
Get the money, it's the season,
Fa la la la la la la la la.
-- Stan Freberg, 1958.
What's disturbing to me is the realization that every musical personality I enjoy with the exception of Bea Wain, Vera Lynn, and Baby Rose Marie, is dead. I spend entire days being entertained by the voices of a generation that within the next couple of years, tops, will be as extinct as the dodo. And yet to me they're as alive as I am.
Or maybe I myself am *also* dead and I just don't know it yet.
Without our brain and muscle...
...not a single wheel can turn!
I was in that position more than a decade ago. The last surviving artist to whom I regularly listen would probably have been either Annette Hanshaw or Seger Ellis, and the last surviving film star would have been Anita Page.What's disturbing to me is the realization that every musical personality I enjoy with the exception of Bea Wain, Vera Lynn, and Baby Rose Marie, is dead. I spend entire days being entertained by the voices of a generation that within the next couple of years, tops, will be as extinct as the dodo. And yet to me they're as alive as I am.
Or maybe I myself am *also* dead and I just don't know it yet.