Thanks for the e-mails. We're all okay. Mike got his cast off, but the bone is only at 75%, so he has another four weeks in the chair. His Dad is in fine shape. I'm feeling pretty optimistic about my turn tomorrow.
Everything else . . . well, I've been listening to a lot of Aerosmith. They've long been one of my favorite bands. So much so that this webblog came pretty close to being named Dream On.
I first heard Dream On* the same year I started writing novels, which was -- God -- thirty-one years ago. Since that summer I've probably worn out about a hundred copies of it. I just listened to it an hour ago, as I was driving back from taking the kids to school.
Dream On is not a pretty or happy song. It's a reality check, a comfort, and a warning, all rolled into one. It was the song that defended me against disco and wrap around skirts and Farah hair. It got me through some dark times. I know, it may not rank very high on the Musical History Lists, but it spoke to me. With music, that's all that matters.
If Paperback Writer makes me laugh at myself, then Dream On holds me together. I think everyone should have a song like that.
*You youngsters who have never heard the song can watch and listen to Steven Tyler's live performance of it here, with orchestra in the background, about halfway down the page. Loads nicely even on dial-up.