Today's blog has nothing to do with the Rocky Horror picture show other than that is the soundtrack for my day. I am having one of those generically sad moments that comes from elderly relatives, an aging body and a pile of work to do. Go figure.
So, I pull out a proven cure-my IPOD and thumb through the selections at hand. Ah, there it is, Dr. Hook's Cover of the Rolling Stone. Earphones, check. Volume, up. Breathe, deep. And for a few seconds I am 16 and with my good running buddy Patty and we are driving around in my bright orange Hondamatic smoking something that we hadn't ought to be smoking. And we are laughing because somehow we understand the song-"we keep getting richer but we CAN'T get our picture on the Cover of the Rolling Stone......" got everything we need but not what we want, but it's not sad, its funny. Ironic is what they call it. And irony is funny.
Irony can also be sad if you take it to dark place-boiling over into angst. But I think it was more than just the moment and the smoke that made it funny-I believe there is something in me that wants desperately to laugh and not to cry.
So, for a moment I played at what that 16 year old girl would say if she could see me now....and she cracked up laughing...quietly of course because my boss just walked up on me blogging when I should have been editing a attestation letter for the field. Hey, we all need to take a break from editing an attestation letter for the field-in this case its called lunch.
Anyway, NONE of us are probably where we imagined we'd be at 16. My 16 year old self couldn't imagine me being this old for one thing. What a hoot. I'm 46. And work, despite lunch time, is interfering with my reverie. Damn duty. What ever happened to good honest navel gazing?
Well, the field must have its attestation letter, mustn't it? Oooh, let's do another warp, where some VP is sitting in his office looking at the letter going "Oh hell, how did I end up having to sign THIS?" Muwahhhahhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa over and out.