Nothing like some hard work to cure the blues. Nothing like some creative energy to chase the gremlins from the brain. I put myself to task yesterday after my sad little post, and it made all the difference. Plus, my backyard doesn't look like I'm trailer trash any more. Double bonus.
So, I was watching the news yesterday and a report came on saying that "in these troubled times, more and more people are turning to the paranormal." I found that curious. Really? When there's nothing to rely on, nothing to be sure of, we turn to a total unknown? What an odd, perpendicular species we are. Why count on something totally intangible? Why seek out something undefinable for comfort? I don't get it. 'Splain that to me.
Is it, like Dorothy, that we go looking for something beyond our own backyards to fulfill ourselves? Have we learned nothing? Sure, we might end up on a long, strange trip, but does it solve anything? Don't think so. Rather, we end up in bed with a nasty headache and some whacked out friends hanging around. Wait. That's my life already. Hmmm. It'll take me a coupla vodka n' tonics to set me on my feet again....
"So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road"
~Elton John, Yellow Brick Road