What I've been missing lately is music. And possibly alcohol, thinks Buddha.
Early on, when I had no hi-fi, I wrote more about albums and songs. The blog became a reason for me to search the internet for new artists, to go out and buy new discs. Later, however, after I acquired a hi-fi and became comfortable with it, I started writing more about gear. I got bit by the bug, as they say. There's nothing wrong with that; afterall, the gear sings along. Music was still in the air. But, most recently, all I've been writing about is work:
Here is the story of how I get to work. Here is the story of what I do at work. Here is the story of how much work is involved in work. Here is the story of our little interactions at work.
Am I becoming, I wonder, one of those aging rock stars who has nothing left to sing about but what it was like to be a rock star? This is one of my greatest fears.
"You know, Stephen, if I went home and listened to two hours of music each night, I'd die before I got through my entire collection."
"That's a dark thought, JA."
"But, you know, I bet there's a beer with my name on it at home."
"A much better thought, JA."
