I woke up thinking of you. Kevin.
I’m sure you can read my thoughts, but I know that if Facebook had been an option we’d be reading funny stories and trading cartoons  and friending all the Monkees and Pink Floyd. We'd get lost in endless YouTube loops and argue about whether Robert Plant or Ian Astbury was the better frontman.  And I’d like to think that God is technologically advanced. I can picture you with your wings and halo, sitting on a cloud with your laptop. Laughing at me. Or maybe you’re looking at my pictures, or searching for my memories of CSN&Y at the Garden. I can remember your face and what you said when Graham Nash came out, still barefoot. You had the look of a child on Christmas morning. You said “He’s still young behind my eyes” and saw they were closed.
I still kill myself when I mimic you. What’s half a chicken? Laura tells me I channel you whenever I do the slicing thing with my hand. Do you still safeguard your distributor cap? Do you still have need for one? Have you seen George? Or John? Is it cold? 
Can you see me? 
You faced your demons better than anyone I ever knew, or will know. I cursed you that weekend. You never answered me. We had plans. Allman Brothers. 
The phone rang and I was alone.
I woke up thinking of you. Kevin. You’re still young behind my eyes.

So...here we are

Peeps.  
There is no more accurate indicator that  Easter is just around the corner than the first sighting of Peeps.   I have a yellow Peep Chick in my hand.  Should I eat it?  Of course not.  Will I eat it?  Of course I will.  
Step Away from the Cupcake.

The two most dangerous words in the English Language are:  "Fuck It"...Be it Peeps, bread, makeup, men or a fork in the  road...if I shouldn't, I will.  I've had an interesting life so far, I have some interesting ideas, and a really whacked out view of life ... and I think I should make my private views public, because I really shouldn't be doing that.

And so here I am, here we are...and here we go.