Generally speaking, I'm feeling good. I've pretty much wrapped up a project at work with three other programmers and annoying QA defects are just barely trickling in. Most is quiet on the UAT front, and release is coming up next Monday after code freezing Thursday.
I've been able to get my hands on tons of good new music lately because my rental car has XM satellite radio, and I have been keeping track of all the songs I like by jotting them down on a pad of paper on the ample arm rest. Looking those songs and musicians up on google and hypem.com have delivered an astounding crop of new-to-me music blogs and enough mp3s for days.
Cooking has been on my agenda again lately, so I've never been hungry. I've been running at least three to four miles a week and that means so has Flora. I quit smoking after Coachella so running has been getting gradually easier day by day as my lungs slowly recover. There's really no comparison at any other time in my life to how out of shape I've been. Getting out of this wretched malaise has been like pulling teeth every step of the way through quicksand.
As you already know, Michael Jackson died this week. To be honest, I never really cared for his music because I was completely prejudiced against it by his personal defects. Although, I will say that I have always enjoyed listening to Thriller and Billie Jean.
Now that he is dead, and no longer allegedly assaulting children (or the suppressed but still highly influential Presbyterian sensibilities intensely cultivated in my youth that have retarded my social capabilities) I am somehow more willing to give his music a chance. How pathetic is that? However pathetic it is or isn't, my spirit has been lifted up by such tunes as PYT, Butterflies and remixes of Billie Jean.
Sunday, I watched the movie Walk The Line for the first time and I really enjoyed it. I've always liked Johnny Cash, and was sad when he passed away in 2003, but I never knew what a troubled person he was until June helped him turn it all around. The movie may have taken liberties with the biographical facts, but it made me wonder what could have been if Elvis had someone in his life like June Carter -- someone strong and willful, seemingly so full of self-respect and dignity -- instead of his wife, Priscilla. It made me wonder about Michael, too. What if?
God bless Michael Jackson.
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