I may have used a picture of this house before; I don’t recall. I had to post this picture today because this house looks so much more beautiful in a winter setting. When this evening gets here, and another eight or so more inches of snow are on the ground, the house should look spectacular.
I have been watching the recent Dell Computers ad on TV, and have been tying to identify the singer of This Magic Moment. After about the third viewing I decided that it was Loudon Wainwright III. But then I Googled it and found out that it is a group named The Felice Brothers. I don’t care, it still sounds like Loudon Wainwright III to me. You know who I mean, father of Rufus and Martha Wainwright, one-time husband of Kate McGarrigle, and singer/songwriter of the song that begins:
“Crossin’ the highway late last night
He shoulda looked left and he shoulda looked right
He didn’t see the station wagon car
The skunk got squashed and there you are!”
You know the rest, or if you don’t, find Dead Skunk on YouTube, it’s worth the slight effort. Then tell me that The Felice brothers don’t sound like Mr. Wainwright.
It occurred to me that Dead Skunk would make a good addition to the music I’m planning for my memorial service. I may be able to talk Cindy out of a funeral, but I know she will want some type of service. When I told her that Dead Skunk will be part of the music, she didn’t like the idea. I think Trina will go along with it due to the song title.
Maintaining the theme of future death, I’ve noticed that over the past few years I’ve changed my view of collections. In the past I collected stamps, comic books, and recorded music because I enjoyed the concept of owning items that brought me joy. I still feel that way to some extent, but now I also feel a need to maintain the collections as something I can pass on to my grandchildren in hopes that they will grow to appreciate the items as much as I have. The cynic in me says, “They will sell or give the stuff away in a heartbeat,” but the person within me who has hope says, “They will grow to understand and feel the necessity of keeping the items as historical memories of the person I am”…or was…you know what I mean.
Well, that’s the fiction I maintain for myself in order to keep things that Cindy would rather sell. It is all about me.