Spotify

Me and room service baby

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Do you ever think about your life as a movie?

I had my headphones on as I was packing to leave my hotel this morning. As I hit the elevator the song “Who knows where the time goes” started playing. It’s total soundtrack material.

I followed myself into the elevator, pivoted the camera slightly to catch my face in the mirror as I pressed the button. The look was classic mid-cost east coast hotel.

The actor, me, stood quietly as the song played, showing the complex emotions associated with being tired, going home, having a long day of travel ahead, facing some tough professional choices, and having an exciting evening planned with his love. Honestly, it was an academy award winning moment.

Then, out into the rain swept fall street in an unnamed Massachusetts’s town, walking away from the camera. Presumably off to wherever he was going. Never mind that it was a really long walk to the airport.

Getting in a Lyft isn’t cinematic enough when there’s this rain swept fall street, particularly the one I got.

Good morning.


Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Ferris Bueller

I listen to Don Henley radio now.

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Aging is weird. It seems like yesterday every part of me was elastic, flexible, resilient. Now getting out of bed wrong can be a day limiting event.

I’m mostly ok with it. It mostly has more rewards than drawbacks. And truthfully, the gestation period for aging is long enough for me to come to terms with any particular change as long as I do the daily work of processing.

But some days the processing includes all the stages of grief but particularly denial. That and bargaining. I bargain a lot with my aging.

So when I open Spotify on any random day and find myself listening to Phil Collins, Glenn Frey, Genesis, Toto — the “Don Henley Radio” mix — I try not to think about it as the loss of my musical elasticity, of which I have some but much less than I did.

I chalk it up to acceptance of aging. And I am content.