A few thoughts on the end of the decade

First off, a couple of notes to those buzzkills who love to remind us that this is not really the end of a decade, just like 2000 was not really a new millennium:

1) You are technically correct, and
2) Nobody cares.

See, these numbers don’t have any real significance to begin with; they’re just human constructs imposed on what is really an undifferentiated flow of time. And our simple human brains get excited when the bigger numbers roll over. Nobody wants to hear your bitching, and especially not now. One is hesitant to write off an entire decade, but I don’t think many of us are sad to see this one go.
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Piling On

Tiger flexes for the ladies.

Tiger flexes for the ladies.

History will remember this last bit of the first decade of the 21st century for one of three things: the final stages of an agonizing national argument over health care reform; President Barack Obama announcing massive troop commitments in Afghanistan and receiving the Nobel Peace Prize in the same week; or the revelation that Tiger Woods, heretofore known as a somewhat robotic golf champion with no weaknesses whatsoever, was cheating on his wife on a scale that I can only call heroic. Most likely the latter.

I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that Tiger, a classic overachiever in every other area of his life, should apply his work ethic in this department as well. Still, one can’t help but marvel at the scope of his efforts, which are to ordinary infidelity as the Great Wall of China is to the right field fence at Fenway Park. As veteran PR man Lee Housekeeper puts it in today’s Chronicle,

Tiger Woods beats anybody I’ve ever worked with, and I worked with Morrison, Keith Moon, Janis Joplin … Tiger out-Jaggers Jagger. He’s beyond rock star, and he does this sober.

This is a story that’s already gotten way too much play, partly because of all the sex, and partly because we love it when someone turns out not to be perfect. I don’t wish to add to the deluge, but I do have one last comment: This should put to rest once and for all the idea that golfers aren’t athletes.

1969, Part 1

So here we are at the end of another decade. I haven’t been reading or hearing too much about it, probably because we made such a big deal of the last change of decade (which happened to be the turn of the millennium as well), then were disappointed when the world utterly failed to blow up or suddenly change in any significant way.

A recent viewing (I think it was the 99th) of Withnail and I got me to thinking about 1969, a year during which I was alive but not particularly sentient (I was 1 when it started, 2 when it ended). But it seems to me it was a pretty dark time, not unlike the fairly depressing conditions many of us find ourselves in today. So I thought it would be interesting to put together some of the music I have from that year and share it with you.

Herewith, the first installment of a projected three or four, introduced by Danny, Headhunter to his friends…Headhunter to everyone, he doesn’t have any friends. If you have suggestions for songs from 1969 that I ought to use in the other installments, please leave a comment. And now:

1969, PART 1: BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

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