Apologies for the absence, but chalk it up to the 4th of July holiday in combination with the fact that Jessica and I just moved our home: from mid-town east to the upper east side. And it's been no easy transition: had to move our stuff out of our old place on June 29, but couldn't move our bodies into the new place until July 7, which meant a week of living in the homes of our wonderful and various friends (thanks Katie and Liz and Ingrid!). All this followed by a weekend of mad, mad cleaning, scouring, washing, drying, and generally trying to get ourselves acclimated to the new space. Whew.
All this setting up house makes me wonder: when'd I get so old? Time was, I would have been happy to live out of boxes, and without sparklingly clean floors, and never given it a second thought. But there I was, scrubbing my new kitchen cabinet until it gleamed. Gleamed, I tell you!
Not sure exactly where the shift happened, but somehow, oddly enough, I became an adult. Which freaks me out a little to realize. And so to quell my quaking fear, I look for remembrances of things past... things that take me back to the days of Lollapalooza and beer thirty; back to "We Got the Bunk" at Spring Fling and late nights at the Tropicana. Things like the Beastie Boys. Today, Mike D. waxes environmentally friendly over at Grist, and even though he's a grown-up now too, the whole thing brought me back.
Thanks for the lift, Boys. Now me and the crew are gonna drink some brass monkey.
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