Been digging into this

The Clash, London Calling.

For a while now, I’ve liked a few songs on this album. But dang, it’s good.

“I wasn’t born, so much as I fell out.” – Now, that’s a lonely lyric.

And then there’s some happiness on the album, some dork-infused hipness that doesn’t care what you think, and some good ol’ anthem-y Rock n’ Roll. This one is really fun to sing along to as you drive down the road with the windows down as passing traffic wonders why you’re pumping your fist in the air. My trucker’s tan is coming along nicely, FYI.

I’ll have some deep thoughts, I’m sure, in a few days. This is going to be a writing week, and I’ve lately been enjoying a new, self-sustaining (i.e., not linked to an individual or thing), peace of mind.

Yes, folks, it is all good.

Raise a toast to St. Joe Strummer: