a bereaved b-lite emailed me the other day about alex chilton’s passing. she was mourning the death of a 70′s icon.
i was born in the 80′s but grew up in the philippines, so it was essentially the 70′s. disco served as lullaby. my parents dressed up in floral prints and hip-hugging bell bottoms to take me to the park. and this cartoon was an afternoon treat:
check out plastic man’s chest-bearing gold-belted red swim superhero suit and white solar shields. just the perfect outfit to battle the evil clam pirate while showing off his buff physique and sexy hair.
nothing screams 70′s more than having a crime fighter who looks like a gigolo.
i don’t know about you, but i’ve had quite a week.
major home events transpired: a stubborn clog in the kitchen sink, washer and dryer installation (fingers crossed!), bedroom renovation, and possible future move to a top-floor unit.
work hasn’t exactly been tranquil either: i’m on the prowl for a new gig, while it’s become clear that i’m going to be passed around by scientists and worked to the bones until my contract ends (which keeps on getting extended).
plus: lil’ bro in town celebrated his 25th (yay!), a couple of unfinished knitting projects to tackle along with a growing to-knit list, social obligations, zip car rentals, delayed but not forgotten projects, and waking up an hour earlier for DST starting this sunday.
oy vey!
well, here’s a tune that momentarily snapped me out of my daze.
a middle-aged high-ranking scientist was whistling it while walking by my cubicle the other day. i love accidental life comedies!
even after a five-hour marathon of brain-numbing data crunching in front of the computer, it elicited a giggle in me and planted my feet back on the ground for a few minutes.