Major Tom
No, this isn't an attempt at self-aggrandizement. I'm talking about the song "Major Tom" by Peter Schilling. Remember that one? It was a nod to David Bowie. Around 1983 or thereabouts. It was released in English and in German. I liked both versions. They made me think of powdery ski hills and the uber-angst of teenage life - two things I haven't done since the 1980s.
(I'm too lazy to figure out the command for the umlaut, by the way. That's why you got the bargain basement "uber," instead of the more German-looking one. Sorry.)
Well, right now the song is playing on my boombox and it just made me think of blogging. Or, rather, it gave me a place to start this evening's post.
I've been busy writing all weekend. Workin' on a project. I'm a little drained. And this week promises to be just as busy. For one thing, I'll be back in the CBC on Tuesday. Startin' up the radio piece. Looking soooo forward to it. Ahhhh.
When the lockout ended, I asked myself if I'd still have the tension in me to continue blogging now that my career was no longer being thwarted by people I couldn't yell at. I answered this question in about two seconds. Of course I'd have the tension! My neurosis alone would provide enough base material. Besides, it's a big planet with plenty to get tense about. How solipsistic of me!
...The beauty of blogging is that you get to use big, fancy words and no editors will edit them out in the interest of accessibility. This may be a bad thing, actually. Oh well, I did say it's a big planet.
So, with the big planet in mind, I'm going to walk some of it right now... Just my neighbourhood, mind you. My nightly constitutional. Something to clear my head (or find fresh tensions) and work off the lasagna I had for dinner... I don't have lasagna every night, I should point out. I just wanted to be clear on that.
Not much of a blog post, eh? In fact, you might call it bloggerel. Ah? I just made that up. Bloggerel. I rather like that. Though I'm sure someone else has thought of it.
Okay, "Major Tom" is over now. I'm going for a walk. Tomorrow I'll be minor.
Or not.
(I'm too lazy to figure out the command for the umlaut, by the way. That's why you got the bargain basement "uber," instead of the more German-looking one. Sorry.)
Well, right now the song is playing on my boombox and it just made me think of blogging. Or, rather, it gave me a place to start this evening's post.
I've been busy writing all weekend. Workin' on a project. I'm a little drained. And this week promises to be just as busy. For one thing, I'll be back in the CBC on Tuesday. Startin' up the radio piece. Looking soooo forward to it. Ahhhh.
When the lockout ended, I asked myself if I'd still have the tension in me to continue blogging now that my career was no longer being thwarted by people I couldn't yell at. I answered this question in about two seconds. Of course I'd have the tension! My neurosis alone would provide enough base material. Besides, it's a big planet with plenty to get tense about. How solipsistic of me!
...The beauty of blogging is that you get to use big, fancy words and no editors will edit them out in the interest of accessibility. This may be a bad thing, actually. Oh well, I did say it's a big planet.
So, with the big planet in mind, I'm going to walk some of it right now... Just my neighbourhood, mind you. My nightly constitutional. Something to clear my head (or find fresh tensions) and work off the lasagna I had for dinner... I don't have lasagna every night, I should point out. I just wanted to be clear on that.
Not much of a blog post, eh? In fact, you might call it bloggerel. Ah? I just made that up. Bloggerel. I rather like that. Though I'm sure someone else has thought of it.
Okay, "Major Tom" is over now. I'm going for a walk. Tomorrow I'll be minor.
Or not.
posted by oakwriter | 4:21 PM
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