Woke up the other day to a perfect ear print on my arm. After looking at this picture for days, my loss of collagen has become the topic sentence.
I don’t feel like the owner of this old-man arm, but here I am, staring and sharing.
I don’t feel tardy.
I probably shared this before, but it’s Friday, and I’m taking a break and finding the love where I find it.
Stick with it and just bask in the smile that fills Harrison’s son’s beautiful (and dang, if he’s not utterly beautiful) face, as he realizes he gets to watch Prince shred. I’m not a big fan of the guitar-face, hall-of-fame, guitar solo, but Prince is just so danged fun. Please join with Dhani and try not to feel his super-fan excitement. I could not resist.
Also, speaking of Harrison. I really love this bit from Wikipedia:
After the 1999 stabbing incident in which Olivia subdued Harrison’s assailant nearly single-handedly, Harrison received a fax from his close friend Tom Petty that read: “Aren’t you glad you married a Mexican girl?”
It’s really just the word, “fax,” that does it for me.
Nothing neuters the view of oneself as an exceptional issuance into this world so much an afternoon spent in the throng of extended family. Afterward I spend some time internally attributing the unhinged ego of my generation to the tapering and severing of large families. Kids born into one-or-two…
Really. I’m sitting on a couch somewhere, minus my only wisdom tooth and realizing and remembering that this is it.