Typical of me, eh? I had a pretty good (if painfully abbreviated) vacation, but rather than dwell on the good, I come back here and write a lengthy piece about the one moment of melancholy during the whole trip. Why dwell on the negative? Why not accentuate the positive?
It's just what I do, I guess. A friend of mine told me yesterday that I spend too much time worrying, an echo of words spoken to me by several therapists, a string of ex-girlfriends and, well, pretty much everyone who has ever known me. If I could just overhaul my entire personality, my life would be so much better.
But, dammit, somebody's gotta be cranky and whiny. Somebody needs to complain incessantly. The world needs a guy to bust out convoluted Star Wars analogies, who can't shut up about the greatness of Meet Me In St. Louis, who is ready with an obscure Steely Dan reference at a moment's notice. And my pledge to you, dear reader, is to continue to be that guy.
Oh, and due to popular demand, I'm always willing to bring you more Lynda Carter clips!
