Wash That Man Right Out Of My Hair, etc.
Perhaps you are curious as to why I have taken an extended leave of absence from posting here. Perhaps you accidentally stumbled onto this site searching for information on Taco. For the former, an explanation is to follow; for the latter, you will find little new wave trivia here. Feel free to make yourself a drink and continue reading, all are welcome. The more the merrier, etc. Anyway, you may or may not be aware of the fact that I recently returned from a fortnight in New Zealand. In doing so there were many things I did for the first time, not limited to crossing the Equator and the International Date Line. Latitude and Longitude seem much more relevant when you are speaking of such distances, but I did not have my GPS on hand so I cannot give you the degrees and minutes and seconds to any degree of precision. I apologize for the lapse, but I might have had other things on my mind. In December of my 11th year I found myself walking home from Redwood Intermediate School, excited because it was the first day of winter break. As I was approaching my home, I realized that although at that very moment I had approximately the maximum amount of time remaining in my vacation, that before I knew it, it would be over. It might have been the first time that I was truly aware of the passage of time; this much looked forward to reprieve from the various torments that are junior high was going to be much more short lived than I cared to seriously consider. The problem with being aware of such things is that it makes you tend to watch the clock a bit more than you might otherwise -- provoking a desperate stare down that there really is no hope of winning. Dunbar had some good ideas; if time passes infinitely slow then you become immortal. But what sort of immortality would that be, being bored for eternity? So the question is, how do you have an amazing time and make it last forever? It would seem that there is no answer; Einstein was right about at least one thing, apparently. This is all to say that I would have liked to stay longer, but now I am back in New York and it is summer and I will survive. Kevin and I will pass the time somehow, perhaps we will play shows or perhaps we will simply get drunk and talk about playing shows and getting played on New Zealand radio (true) and whatever else it is we talk about whilst intoxicated. It is all improvisation anyway, we couldn't remember our lines if we tried. We have no understudies, it is our way or the highway. I don't know if this is what you were looking for, but pretty much everything I have ever written has been about time or memory and this is no different. I have also discussed alcohol's effect on our perception of such things, but the point is that we are human just like you, we are not infallible but we do bleed on occasion. Our mistakes are all for you, our blood is all for you. So raise a glass to us, we are still alive and it is glorious; we take advantage of every opportunity because we know life is short and we want to be remembered as heroes and adventurers. But mostly we do it because we have to. We love you, each and every one of you. We do love some more than others, but we are allowed to play favorites because we are not your mother.