Signs
As I was walking to work today (note: Saturday. Work. C'mon, bitch with me, here) I saw two signs I liked.
The first, a placard in the entry window of a groovy new condo in the 'hood:
YOU ARE HERE
HERE YOU ARE
ARE YOU HERE?
The second, spray painted on a Southern Pacific boxcar on a freight train passing along the East Bank Esplanade:
REAL EYES
REALIZE
REAL LIES
And finally, because the only way I can do the data-intensive work I've gotta do between now and Thanksgiving is to plug into music and disappear (hence, Saturday at the office), I am digging into the CD archives.
Today I happened on Don Henley's "End of the Innocence," an old fave of mine from 1989. And you know what? Don's Reagan-era rants are relevant again. Or still. Listen to this:
Quoting from the scriptures with patriotic tears
We got the same old men with the same old fears
Standing at attention, wrapped in stars and stripes
They hear the phantom drummers and the nonexistent pipes
These days the buck stops nowhere, no one takes the blame
But evil is still evil In anybody's name
If dirt were dollars
We'd all be in the black
Gonna go home and fill out my ballot this evening.
The first, a placard in the entry window of a groovy new condo in the 'hood:
YOU ARE HERE
HERE YOU ARE
ARE YOU HERE?
The second, spray painted on a Southern Pacific boxcar on a freight train passing along the East Bank Esplanade:
REAL EYES
REALIZE
REAL LIES
And finally, because the only way I can do the data-intensive work I've gotta do between now and Thanksgiving is to plug into music and disappear (hence, Saturday at the office), I am digging into the CD archives.
Today I happened on Don Henley's "End of the Innocence," an old fave of mine from 1989. And you know what? Don's Reagan-era rants are relevant again. Or still. Listen to this:
Quoting from the scriptures with patriotic tears
We got the same old men with the same old fears
Standing at attention, wrapped in stars and stripes
They hear the phantom drummers and the nonexistent pipes
These days the buck stops nowhere, no one takes the blame
But evil is still evil In anybody's name
If dirt were dollars
We'd all be in the black
Gonna go home and fill out my ballot this evening.