On Gifts

Wolfboy is feeling a little better after his allergy attack last week, though he's not yet 100%.

As he has told me about 20 times today, he's suffering from "sinus danish."

***

In May of 1987, one of the Houston-area radio stations had some sort of promotion going on. They spent a number of days or even weeks saying that on June 1st, they were going to become "a thing of the past."

I don't remember which station it was, but the idea was, I guess, to promote interest in some promotional stunt of theirs by making it sound like they were going off the air or something.

Yeah, it got my attention, though I wasn't fooled. I doubt anyone was. By the time June 1 at the appointed time rolled around, I figured they were going to an all-retro format or something.

So I tuned in at the appointed time, and they counted down.

First there was silence, then white noise.

And out of the white noise came the sound of an audience. It was familiar.

And I was overcome with the strangest feeling. There we were in the era of hair metal and flock of haircuts bands, a time when I felt utterly adrift whenever I paid much attention to popular music.

It was Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles. 20 years to the day after its release, this rock station was going to play the album in its entirety.

I'm not kidding when I say this: I cried. I did. I had this overwhelming feeling like my whole generation had dropped the ball. It was embarrassing in some profound way. Talent and music had always struck me as gifts, and we were just wasting them.

I'm not saying that every album has to be as important as Miles Davis' Bitches Brew or Sgt. Pepper (which I'm not all THAT fond of, actually), but you know, we seemed to be just flitting it away.

I've heard it said quite convincingly that it's a sin to waste a gift from God. It felt like a sad, sinful era.

***

Wolfboy showed me some art THEGIRL made. It's a rainbow made out of Fruit Loops.

"It looks... delicious!" I said with a smile.

"It's not funny!" barked THEGIRL.

Whoa.

***

The Papi Chulo Minivan has taken its last ride. After having the decency to at least get me home during its final, dramatic, smoke-filled death on the freeway last month, it's been sitting in the street, waiting for us to get off our duffs and do something.

So we donated it to a charity. They tow it away tomorrow.

***



***

And that's one thing that frustrates me about seeing mediocre talent get popular, you know? I have known so many gifted people who can't catch a break, so it hurts to see someone else make it on the strength of a lucky break and unexceptional ability.

***

Ya'll have a good evening.