It's cold on the shoulder and you know that we get a little older every day

I forked over 350 smackers for a new starter for my car. By doing so, I fulfilled my end of the bargain. The mechanic had already fulfilled his by fixing the car. He charged me money for parts and labor and expected me to pay him. I obliged, mostly because I take agreements very, very, seriously, and partly because I couldn't figure out a way to drive off in my car without there being serious ramifications.

I've just decided that henceforth, I will refrain from explaining everything in excruciating and unnecessary detail. I'm sure this is not distressing news to you.

I'm listening to Gordon Lightfoot as I type this. When we were younger, my sister and I used to tease my dad about being a big fan of his. Back then, if you had told me I'd be listening to him when I was older, and without being forced into it, I'd punch you in the sternum and tell you you were nuts. Then I'd rest the flat of my blade across your throat and whisper menacingly in iyour ear, "It ends here, son. You bring that man's name up again I'll turn your cheeks into tent flaps!".

Off to play music. I'm in the belly of a Renaissance. Hope it lasts.