Television Finales

In honor of the much anticipated series finale to Breaking Bad,  Professor Frost will discuss the power of television and the special relationships we make with our favorite characters as well as the grand importance of the finale.

Television has an interesting ability to connect to an audience unlike any other medium.  I remember Wednesday nights as a kid, watching The Wonder Years with my Dad.   I couldn't have been more than  seven years old, but week after week we invited Kevin Arnold and his family back into our home until the show came to its inevitable end years later on a thundery May night.  It sounds almost ridiculous to say it, but I grew up alongside these characters, and when I was no longer able to watch them continue on their journey, I felt like I was losing something.  This is why I believe the finale to every television series is the most important (and remembered) component to a show's legacy, not only because it's what it has been building to week after week, year after year, but because it must send the viewer on a path that made the journey worth it.

The finale of The Wonder Years, which I've seen probably half a dozen times over the years, is a home run...and you should watch this show on Netflix spoiler free if you haven't!   Some other finales have unfortunately left a bitter taste. (SPOILERS TO COME)  The Seinfeld finale, which was universally lambasted, functioned as more of a clip show/recap than a conclusion.  In a show that was essentially about "nothing," the final episode became about something.  Although the finale didn't exactly tarnish its legacy because at the very least, these beloved characters didn't behave in a manner  different from any other episode, a show of such greatness should have rode off into the sunset.  Friends and Sex and the City were enjoyable but predictable, based largely on giving its audience what it wanted.   Whether they were a good couple or not,  it was a given that Ross and Rachel were going to end up together....and a small, somewhat tiresome miracle that their dance went on for two seasons even after Emma was born   Carrie needed to stop putting her faith into men, and yet, it's the former bad boy (now lonely) lover who has suddenly changed, who rescues her.  The Sopranos implemented water cooler vagueness with it's shocking cut to black.  On one level, it was the perfect ending to the continuously drifting existentialist show, but it also reminded me of the greatness within the first couple of seasons was rooted more in great story, rather than unease and malaise. Entourage and Weeds fell apart over their last few seasons, so it was hardly a surprise that their tie everything together finales were anything but overreaching and unnatural.   I haven't watched Dexter's finale yet, but I have high hopes for Breaking Bad.  This is the one show where I think every season has been better than its predecessor.  But, in a show that has been methodically building up to tonight for five years, its legacy and place in television history is definitely on the line.

TV is evolving, or at least the way we view it is.  Between TiVo, Netflix, On Demand, etc., the idea of watching a show week after week, year after year, might not be the way "television" is consumed years from now.*  I hope there are still Monday mornings like tomorrow, where everyone will be talking about  Breaking Bad, but we shall see...


*There are signs of this already with strong Netflix original content that can be consumed all at once.

Souvenir

That was the viscous juice that sealed my fate.  It tasted so sweet as it touched my tongue only to burn all the way down.  It settled somewhere deep in my chest, inebriating me for the better part of a year.  All I could do was hopelessly hope until it was gone.

I thought I had sobered up.  I thought time had made Her nothing more than a postcard addressed to my forgotten dreams.  But as I lie awake, I can feel that she's still here.  A souvenir that I can never give away.

Prisoners: A Battle for the Soul

(No Spoilers)

When a religious man's daughter and her friend go missing, he sacrifices his own humanity and faith in an attempt to save her.  Dennis Villeneuve's Prisoners may not be a great movie, but it certainly is a thought-provoking one.  I'd like to believe most parents would trade their lives for their children's, but would they sacrifice their souls too?    That is the question I've been pondering since leaving the cinema late last night.  Without having children, I can only speak to the mother and child dynamic I've been a part of and the transference I've experienced within this bond. We've been taught to view this idea largely in the negative, a parent's hopes and dreams put upon their children and the overwhelming pressure it creates.  I don't see it that way.  I believe the worst thing I could say to my Mom is "I'm unhappy," because for better or worst, I understand that her happiness is tethered to my own.  So in Prisoners, when a child goes missing and is feared to be in the worst possible scenario, I felt that it wasn't just a girl's life at stake, but an entire families' spirit since his being was inexorably tied to his children.  And thus the paradox:  A father fights for his soul as he simultaneously destroys it.   I guess as my thoughts on this picture continue to evolve, I question whether that is a good thing. To have one's happiness tied to someone else?

Jewish Dieting Tips

The Jewish people have been trendsetters in the health and fitness world for ages.    It started with  Moses about three thousand years ago when he introduced the Atkin's Diet under the guise of bread being unable to leaven.  By combining his Low-carb diet with daily walks in the desert for forty years, Moses whipped the Hebrews into shape so they could enter the promised land minus unbecoming guts.  Unfortunately,  at some point Judah and those overweight Maccabres revolted and had the toned and tanned Jewish people binging on Potato Latkas with sour cream and apple sauce like they'd just emerged from the famine of '72....3772 BCE that is.  Balance was only restored upon the arrival of Yom Kippur, when the Jewish people were reminded to atone for all those unhealthy meals by partaking in a much needed fast.

The Nightdreamers

A major part of my adolescence was spent discussing the future. For the first two years of high school, my three friends and I would hang out, drink whatever cheap beer we could get our hands on, and assuredly talk about how great things were going to be for us someday soon.  The parties, the girls, the insanity of teenagedom that would rival any fictitious account of youth.  It was all going to happen when we could drive.  That's the way it was supposed to be at least.  Unfortunately, it didn't really go down as we planned it.  Those coveted licenses that were supposed to be the key to our foursome's triumph, well, they ironically became the vehicle in leading us apart.

There was one night though, before the chain inevitably broke.  We didn't have our licenses, but we did drive. Off the road and onto farmland in the middle of the night.  Under the moonlight and the headlights of a minivan, we drank cheap beer and gazed towards a creek.  Like every other night, we talked about how great things were going to be.  But for a split second, I think we realized that this was the moment to hang onto.  There would be plenty of parties, girls, and insanity, but right then and there, it was about us.

Don DeLillo wrote that "nostalgia is product of dissatisfaction and rage. It's a settling of grievances between the present and the past." While it's true that I grieve for the past and long to once again clasp onto that fleeting moment, I also believe a night like that should never be forgotten.

Corporate Effects of Marijuana

As more and more states put forth legislation that will ostensibly legalize (or at least decriminalize)  marijuana usage, has anyone stopped to think about the poor smalltime drug dealers that will be adversely affected by the new laws?  You know who I'm talking about,  Joe College and Johnny High School.  Dudes and dudettes looking to make a few extra bucks while getting their smoke on for free.  What will these once invaluable resources and lifelines to recreational drug use do when their economically blessed friends/clients trade in shadier dealings for pot cards?

If we view marijuana within the scope of the legitimate business world (which it is now entering), smalltime dealers who once rather harmlessly served a valuable purpose in their respective communities will naturally be overwhelmed by larger shops.  In Denver, marijuana dispensaries now outnumber Starbucks 3 to 1.  And while that might have been every pothead's childhood fantasy, the idea of franchised weed shops on every street corner seems to run counter to counter culture.  Within a few years, I predict weed will go corporate.  The weed lobby, aka The National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws, will change its name and grow powerful, ultimate outlining policy in Washington just like every other special interest group.  Prices for weed will astronomically rise (What did coffee cost before Starbucks?), which in effect will once again make the dealings of Joe College and Johnny High School necessary for the economically less fortunate.  Although by this point, the weed lobby will have aided in legislation aimed at extreme sentencing guidelines for unsanctioned dealers, thereby putting the illegal weed trade in the hands of the no longer white collar Joe College and Johnny High School.

Having written that, and it's just one extreme (albeit possible) future based on how this all plays on the federal level over the next few years, I still think marijuana should be legal.  Nonetheless, something isn't sitting right with the thought that one day, marijuana joints will be sold in packs like cigarettes behind the counter at convenient stores across the country.

The Freshman of 2001

It was just shy of autumn the morning fall came.  At first it was a tragedy.  Then an attack.  By the afternoon, it was over.  As our initial shock and fear turned into anxiety and confusion, we longed to be comforted.  By our Parents. By our School. By our President.  Perched up against a bay window, we quietly waited.  When nothing came, we looked to each other...

30 Things to Avoid After Turning 30

Turning thirty is more than a metaphorical rite of passage.   It's a time to take stock of where you're at in life and an opportunity to make changes to improve the path of your existence.  It's also a time to let go of some behavior that was once "okay."  In presenting this list of 30 things you shouldn't do after turning the big 3-0, I suppose I could say that you should stop paying attention to the things society says you should and shouldn't do.  And while I often agree with that sentiment, it sort of defeats the purpose of the omniscient* guidance I'm about to bestow upon you.   So in no particular order, grow up!

1) Sex with an Ex

Falling back into something comfortable is easy and in the short term might feel good.  It's also catastrophically unhealthy and counterintuitive to the principles of moving on and finding a more compatible companion, and you should know that by now.  Don't even call you ex.  It's best to assume he or she is married with kids.

2) Smiley Faces

Texting is something all us thirty-somethings lived without for the majority of life.  We've also lived without smiley faces since fourth grade.  So unless you are communicating with a ten year old (and let's hope that's your niece or nephew), do yourself a favor and skip out on texting smiley faces...and LOL

3) Empty Pantries

Hummus and expired milk shouldn't be the only thing you have in your fridge anymore.

4) Wearing Shorts

Yeah, this might be controversial, but outside of the gym or a BBQ pool party, appearing like you're permanently on spring break to Neverland isn't a great look

5) Roommates

You can apply for an artist exemption, but otherwise, it's probably time to venture off into a world free from some dude or dudette lounging on your couch and watching Keeping up the Kardashian's when you bring home a date.   The worst roommate of course is someone you call "Mom" or "Dad"

6) Making Out at a Bar

PDA is a staple of fun living from the ages of 13-29.  But once you hit thirty, you are no longer in that voting demographic.

7) Going without Health Insurance

You wouldn't go without a roof over head, food in your belly, or money for social activities.  Time to safeguard yourself from a cataclysmic event if nothing else.  

8) Tanning 

Being as wrinkle free as possible and presenting a youthful glow should take precedent over the rubbery bronze look achieved by visiting tanning salons or by using sunscreen lower than SPF 15 or 30.    

9) Watching Jackass

Or really any other programming originating on MTV.

10) Buying Gum with a Credit Card

This falls into the category of carrying around more cash than a five year old, withdrawing more than twenty dollars when visiting the ATM, and filling your gas tank all the way up.  

11) Frozen Food

Hot Pockets, Frozen Pizza, and Lean Cuisines might be a staple of 20s on the go lifestyle, but it would behoove everyone to learn to cook a few simple dishes not laden with preservatives...or at least discover the food bar at Whole Foods.

12) Owning a Futon

Enough said.

13) Traveling in Sweat Pants

It used to be okay to put comfort over class, not anymore.  Sweat Pants in public, not okay.

14) Smoking Cigarettes

In college everyone used to say, "I'll quit when I graduate."  When college ended, it was "I'll quit when I'm 30."  Well, you're 30. And this might be the last chance to avoid some serious health repercussions down the road.  It's obviously not going to be easy, but now is the time to make a painful effort.

15) Not Owning a Vacuum  

The days of living in a total sty that only gets cleaned up when the potential for getting laid exists should come to an end.

16) Wearing old Fraternity or Sorority T-shirts

Sigma Chi Forever!  No. You should have willed that junk in college, but since you haven't, I recommend googling Good Will or turning your old letters into a nice rag to wash up the car.  

17) Getting Your News From Twitter 

I know you're busy, but there's a whole world out there that you should be somewhat informed about.  And no, reading headlines that your friends quote as fact doesn't count. Neither do Page 6 or Us Weekly.

18) Drinking Like You're 20

It was never okay to throw up in someone's sink or toilet.  But, once upon a time it "happened to everyone." It shouldn't happen anymore. If you run the risk of pissing yourself, I'd advise you to stop drinking period.

19) Jumping to Conclusions

We've been programmed to assume the worst in people. But as we mature, it should become obvious that not everything is black and white.  And talking in a clear and honest fashion is much better than avoiding issues, harboring grudges, and rash behavior.

20) Fast Food and Drive-Thrus

The next time you roll up to Taco Bell or McDonald's, it should be either on a long road trip with no other options or with your children in search of a happy meal.  Ramen Noodles and Easy Mac not excluded

21) Sexting and "Casual" Romance

You're probably old enough by now to understand that any form of "booty call" or casual romance is rarely casual, at least for one of the parties involved.  And if you like seeing someone late at night, you might just like them during the light of day as well.

22)  Crashing on Couches and Other Hospitality Services

When it comes to requesting rides to the airport, crashing on couches, or asking for help moving, Barney Stinson summed it up best, "Call a cab, book a room, hire some movers, and repeat after me, friends don't let friends come to see their crappy play."

23) Skateboarding as a Mode of Transportation

Skate or die dude! Just don't do it as an adult unless you're hanging out with Jason Lee.

24) Facebook Stalking

Stop keeping tabs on your ex, the high school prom queen, and whoever else that's distracting you from living your life.

25) Tween Fiction

I know there is an entire section at Barnes & Noble devoted to supernatural teenage romance fiction.  But do you know who that section is for?  That's a rhetorical question.

26) Be Afraid to Go Out to by Yourself

It's time to stop abandoning the notion that it's uncool or socially unacceptable to go out by yourself.  Why shouldn't you enjoy dinner, a drink, or alone?  It's better than staying in alone.

27) Exotic Pets

Don't own any reptile as a pet.  It's creepy.

28) Cheap Alcohol and Mike's Hard Lemonade

The days of drinking Aristocrat Vodka and Evan Williams Whiskey aren't even ironically funny anymore like they might have been in the years following college.  And if you have to drink Mike's Hard Lemonade or Smirnoff Ice, it's time to admit to yourself that you don't like drinking,  so stop.

29) Posters

Drinking Posters, Sports Posters, NSYNC Posters.  Pretty much any poster that you wouldn't frame should be avoided.

30) Ignorance and Prejudice

You are your own person now.  You should have been for a while, but you can no longer hide within your past or upbringing.  So if you can't overcome your youthful ignorance to display not only tolerance but genuine compassion for people of all races, ethnicities, lifestyles, etc. then you should probably hole up in the desert by yourself.




*This potentially hypocritical list reads more like last year's new year's resolutions than my philosophy on life.

JD Salinger

I saw a pretty terrible documentary on JD Salinger this afternoon.  It was riddled with cliches, overstuffed with sentiment, spectacularly unfocused, and pretty much at odds with everything I believe this stoic icon stood for.  Case in point, do you think Jerry would choose Coldplay to help score his life story?  Anyway, the damage is done and based on a 33% approval rating on Rottentomatoes, we don't have to worry too much about anyone adopting this piece of pedestrian garbage as the definitive word on the elusive JD...well, except maybe for some hipster posers reading Catcher in the Rye on bus benches in Los Feliz.

To be totally honest, I'm glad Salinger sucked.  JD is one of my heroes (well antiheroes), and it's his enigmatic genius and refusal to be pigeonholed into any category other than a fiction writer that makes him so special to me.  To explore the man outside the page is to fail in understanding the man.   The first time I read Catcher in the Rye was in Mrs. Kotzen's fifth period English class.  Like Holden Caulfied, I was seventeen years old and pretty disappointed with everyone.  I suppose you could say Holden despised everyone (I know I did), but I think that would be a extremely limited interpretation despite his often scathing critiques.  Holden seemed to be searching for someone who could help guide him through adolescence and into adulthood. When he discovered that such a person did not exist, he envisioned himself as the potential savior, the person who could save all those once sensitive children from going over the edge.   When I read this passage that gave the novel its name for the first time, a transcendent feeling enveloped me.  The person I'd been hoping to come along, to show me the way, was speaking to me directly through the words on the page.  Of course the irony of that message was that there is no one else.  The only person who could catch me from falling off a cliff was...me.

Since that day, I've read everything of Salinger's that I could get my hands on.  I've enjoyed it all,  but it's Catcher that still serves as my literary bible. And all I can say to Shane Salerno* is go back to writing crappy screenplays.**  So what if he never published another novel!  If he wanted to, he would have.  Mystery solved.  The important thing is that he left something behind that truly speaks to people.   And in my wildest dreams as I writer, I hope to do the same.  To leave one great work behind.  Something that twenty-five, fifty, a hundred years from now, people still cherish.  I've been saying this since the day I started writing. Not just because it's romantic or because that was JD's story, but because I believe to truly create something great, it takes the wealth of one's experiences, inspiration, dedication, and hurt.  All of that is limited, but it's the last one especially that makes it clear I have a finite number of attempts at greatness in me.  Every time I put pen to paper (or fingers to keys), and attempt to honestly mine the nuggets of truth that nest deep inside of me, I feel like I'm chipping away at my soul.  The better the writing, the more pain I experience.  And messed up as it is, it's hardly a surprise that almost every time I set out to write something, I simultaneously embark on a relationship that helps soothe the masochistic beating I'm levying onto myself.  What can I say?  Writing is a narcissistic and consuming venture.  The sooner I extricate this one tumor, the better person I'll be. And if I decide to write something else, well, it will be for me.


-Rye Frost



*Seriously dude, WTF was up with the reenactments and that idiot hauling a log of wood up a mountain. Are you kidding me???  And Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Why do I care what he thinks about JD Salinger?  Why didn't you ask Kim K?  At least that would be funny.


**Maybe Savages 2?

Varying Degrees or Rock Bottom

While I believe all men are created equal, desperation is definitely a sliding scale.  Thus the term "Rock Bottom" means different things to different people and should not be judged against those "starving children in Africa"  the adults of our youth continuously referenced when we cried out hungry.  Rock Bottom might be applying to be on Extreme Makeover Home Edition or staying in by yourself and renting Adam Sandler's latest disaster in comedy.   Although my ERB (Estimated Rock Bottom) is probably approaching, I'm not exactly sure what form it will take.  It'd obviously be easier to predict it if I was a compulsive gambler or addicted to heroin or jujubes,  but since I am not, I can only predict it's status is relative to time.  That is,  if a couple of years from now I am still in the same position as I am now, I will probably be "code red" on the official Rock Bottom scale I've devised. 

In college, my friends and I referenced the level of our inebriation using the Lucky Charm Rainbow Chart.  Sober was obviously white, but as you got progressively drunker, you'd progress to purple, then khaki,* then brown, and finally black, which usually meant waking up face down and shirtless on Cary Street with a unicorn tramp stamp.  Anyway, in terms of ERB,  I've adapted Homeland Security's Advisory System since drinking is fun, and the threat of terror seemed more appropriate in rating the brimming frustration of life.  We've got green, blue, yellow, orange, and red.   I'd say right now I'm at the elevated alert of dark yellow making a push towards Orange.   

Believe me, I'm well aware of how much I have and what a charmed life I have lived.  I've got good health, good looks, good food, and a good roof (knock on wood for all of that).  It's just that, there is this forcefield of sorts that inhibits me from reaching out and grabbing the joy that rests in all those little niceties of life that could help preserve my sanity while striving towards a goal without a time table.  I don't want anyone's empathy.  In fact, the day I seek or receive emotional charity is most likely the day I'll be able to officially declare myself ready to start a course in Rock Bottom rehab.  Nonetheless, because of my fortunate upbringing in comparison to those starving children in Africa that I've never met, it's selfish to feel "boo hoo"  about my code yellow status, which only makes me feel worse about my moments of melancholy.


*Being "in the Khaki" was the wheelhouse of drunkenness, when you were first starting to feel really good while also taking stock in the ultimate preppy college experience.

100 Favorite Albums

One of my greatest passions is listening to rock music.  Very little gives me as much joy as grabbing a few albums and cruising down the PCH late at night. Not only do I find these aimless journeys relaxing and reinvigorating, but they are also an essential part of coming up with and brainstorming ideas to write about.  Of course when I sit down to turn these musing into stories, I tend to do a fair amount of procrastinating.  And the greatest source of procrastination comes in the form of making lists.  Top Movies' List.  Favorite Vacations.  I even have list of stuff I'd keep in my metaphorical Wheel House which has ballooned up to the size of a small town.  Anyway, I guess it was only natural that these two opposing forces would combine like chocolate and peanut butter to make the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup of lists.  So without further adieu, please enjoy my 100 favorite albums.  I've tried many times to rank them, and I'm not saying I never will succeed, but at various moments in my life they've all  had a handle on the top spot, so I'll leave that up to you for now.    Oh and if you are a mathematician or can count as high as a preschooler,  you may just find more than a hundred. And if you know your ABCs, you'll see that every letter is represented.

Abacab:  Genesis

Abbey Road:  The Beatles

Abraxas: Santana

Achtung Baby:  U2

Aftermath:  The Rolling Stones

After the Goldrush:  Neil Young

Against the Wind: Bob Seger

All Eyez on Me: 2Pac

All the Young Dudes:  Mott the Hooples

All Things Must Pass:  George Harrison

Animals:  Pink Floyd

Astral Weeks:  Van Morrison

August and Everything After:  Counting Crows

Automatic for the People: R.E.M.

Bad Company:  Bad Company

Band on the Run:  Paul McCartney & Wings

Beggar's Banquet:  The Rolling Stones

Bella Donna: Stevie Nicks

Billy Breathes:  Phish

Blonde on Blonde: Bob Dylan

Blood on the Tracks: Bob Dylan

Born to Run: Bruce Springsteen

Breakfast in America:  Supertramp

Bridge Over Troubled Water:  Simon and Garfunkel

Buckingham Nicks:  Buckingham Nicks

Catch a Fire:  Bob Marley & the Wailers

Crash:  Dave Matthews Band

Crosby, Stills, & Nash:  Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Dark Side of the Moon:  Pink Floyd

Darkness on the Edge of Town:  Bruce Springsteen

Day at the Races: Queen

Days of Future Passed:  Moody Blues

Deja Vu:  Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Definitely Maybe: Oasis

Disraeli Gears:  Cream

The Doors:  The Doors

Duke:  Genesis

Eat a Peach:  Allman Brother

Electric Warrior:  T-Rex

Escape: Journey

Exile on Main Street: The Rolling Stones

Fight for Your Mind: Ben Harper

Fleetwood Mac: Fleetwood Mac

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road:  Elton John

Graceland:  Paul Simon

Green: R.E.M.

Greetings from Asbury Park:  Bruce Springsteen

Jimi Hendrix:  Axis: Bold as Love

Her Satanic Majesties Request:  The Rolling Stones

Hot Fuss: The Killers

Hotel California:  The Eagles

Houses of the Holy:  Led Zeppelin

Hunky Dory:  David Bowie

In Utero:  Nirvana

Jar of Flies: Alice in Chains

The Joshua Tree: U2

Kid A:  Radiohead

L.A. Woman:  The Doors

Ladies of the Canyon: Joni Mitchel

Led Zeppelin III:  Led Zeppelin

Led Zeppelin IV:  Led Zeppelin

Let it Bleed: The Rolling Stones

A Live One:  Phish

Loaded:  The Velvet Underground

Lost and Gone Forever: Guster

Lynyrd Skynrd: Leh-Nerd-Skin-Nerd

Madman Across the Water:  Elton John

Magical Mystery Tour:  The Beatles

Magnolia Soundtrack:  Aimee Mann

Mama Said:  Lenny Kravitz

Marshall Mathers LP:  Eminem

Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness: Smashing Pumpkins

Moon Safari:  Air

Monster: R.E.M.

My Aim is True: Elvis Costello

Nevermind: Nirvana

New Miserable Experience:  Gin Blossoms

A Night at the Opera: Queen

Nirvana Unplugged:  Nirvana

Nylon Curtain:  Billy Joel

No Dice: Badfinger

O:  Damien Rice

On An Island:  David Gilmour

One From the Vault:  The Grateful Dead

Pet Sounds:  The Beach Boys

Pretenders: The Pretenders

Purple: Stone Temple Pilots

Quadrophenia: The Who

Recovering the Satellites: Counting Crows

Remain in Light:  Talking Heads

Revolver:  The Beatles

Rubber Soul: The Beatles

Rumours:  Fleetwood Mac

Running on Empty: Jackson Browne

Rush of Cold Blood to the Head:  Coldplay

Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band:  The Beatles

Siamese Dream:  Smashing Pumpkins

Slowhand:  Eric Clapton

Some Girls: The Rolling Stones

So Tonight That I Might See:  Mazzy Star

Stadium Arcadium:  Red Hot Chilli Peppers

Sticky Fingers:  The Rolling Stones

Straight Up: Badfinger

The Stranger: Billy Joel

Streetlife Serenade:  Billy Joel

Tapestry:  Carole King

Tattoo You:  The Rolling Stones

Tea for the Tillerman:  Cat Stevens

Ten: Pearl Jam

Third Eye Blind:  Third Eye Blind

Throwing Copper: Love

Tim: The Replacements

Tommy: The Who

Tumbleweed Connection: Elton John

Turnstiles:  Billy Joel

Tusk:  Fleetwood Mac

Use Your Illusion 1 and 2:  Guns n Roses

Vs. Pearl Jam

Waka Jawaka:  Frank Zappa

Tom Waits: Closing Time

The Wall:  Pink Floyd

Weezer:  Weezer

What's the Story Morning Glory:  Oasis

The White Album:  The Beatles

White Ladder: David Gray

Who's Next:  The Who

Wish You Were Here:  Pink Floyd

The Wild, the Innocent, & The E Street Shuffle:  Bruce Springsteen

Willy and the Poor Boys:  Credence Clearwater Revival

Workingman's Dead:  Grateful Dead

X & Y:  Coldplay

Yield:  Pearl Jam

Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars:  David Bowie

Labor Day

Labor Day. For some it signifies the end of summer.  For others going back to school.   For me it's simply the last day to drink a Tom Collins.*   I don't like Labor Day.  The dormant angst from my adolescence seems to always reemerges like a lightning bug's shine.   It makes me want to lie down, but I know rest won't be coming today even if my mind sprints thousands of miles away.  So I will LABOR through this paragraph with nothing better to share than my twenty-four hour bug of despair.  And as the day progresses, I will attempt not to stain my seersucker suit** at a barbeque.

*Just ask Holden Caulfield

**No, I don't own a seersucker suit...thankfully.