Rain In Juarez

It would be churlish for someone who hasn’t posted anything, literally, in years to wail about tumblr’s seppuku, so I won’t.  But I began this blog in 2011 -- which is impossible to believe -- and I couldn’t let tumblr’s demise pass without expressing my sadness for this turn of events and my gratitude for all of your friendship and support.  I have met countless people from across the world on this platform, and they have enriched my life more than I can say.

The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

I wonder if Martin understood just how long and circuitous that arc would be.   We begin this week honoring a visionary, and end it by inaugurating a shallow, willfully ignorant, vain, and dangerous man as president. 

Ah we're drinking and we're dancing And the band is really happening And the Johnny Walker wisdom running high And my very sweet companion She's the angel of compassion She's rubbing half the world against her thigh And every drinker every dancer Lifts a happy face to thank her The fiddler fiddles something so sublime All the women tear their blouses off And the men they dance on the polka-dots And it's partner found, it's partner lost And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops It's closing time

Yeah the women tear their blouses off And the men they dance on the polka-dots And it's partner found, it's partner lost And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops It's closing time

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic And the cider's laced with acid And the holy spirit's crying, where's the beef? And the moon is swimming naked And the summer night is fragrant With a mighty expectation of relief So we struggle and we stagger Down the snakes and up the ladder To the tower where the blessed hours chime And I swear it happened just like this A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss The gates of love they budged an inch I can't say much has happened since But closing time

I swear it happened just like this A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss The gates of love they budged an inch I can't say much has happened since (I can't say much has happened since) We're closing time Closing time

I loved you for your beauty But that doesn't make a fool of me You were in it for your beauty too And I loved you for your body There's a voice that sounds like god to me Declaring, (declaring) declaring, declaring that your body's really you And I loved you when our love was blessed And I love you now there's nothing left But sorrow and a sense of overtime And I missed you since the place got wrecked And I just don't care what happens next Looks like freedom but it feels like death It's something in between, I guess It's closing time

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked By the winds of change and the weeds of sex Looks like freedom but it feels like death It's something in between, I guess It's closing time

Yeah we're drinking and we're dancing But there's nothing really happening And the place is dead as heaven on a Saturday night And my very close companion Gets me fumbling gets me laughing She's a hundred but she's wearing Something tight And I lift my glass to the awful truth Which you can't reveal to the ears of youth Except to say it isn't worth a dime And the whole damn place goes crazy twice And it's once for the devil and once for Christ But the boss don't like these dizzy heights We're busted in the blinding lights Of closing time

The whole damn place goes crazy twice And it's once for the devil and once for Christ But the boss don't like these dizzy heights We're busted in the blinding lights (Busted in the blinding lights) Busted in the blinding lights Of closing time Closing time

Oh the women tear their blouses off And the men they dance on the polka-dots It's closing time And it's partner found, it's partner lost And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops It's closing time I swear it happened just like this A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss It's closing time (closing time)

The gates of love they budged an inch I can't say much has happened since But closing time (closing time, closing time, closing time)

I loved you when our love was blessed I love you now there's nothing left But closing time I miss you since the place got wrecked By the winds of change and the weeds of sex

And now I can't get that damned song out of my head . . . .

I am a bad blogger.   All you lovely people continually flood tumblr with new and interesting content (well, some of you flood tumblr with new and repulsive content, but that is another story), whereas I disappear for weeks and months at a time.  I am not keeping up my end of the bargain, and apparently to some of you, that seems to be a bit of an irritant.

From a Bloomingdale’s ad.

You wonder sometimes how people were raised.  Who could possibly have thought this was humorous?  And not just the person (ok, has to be a guy, right?) who wrote the ad, but everyone who had to approve it to get it in the catalog.