ping- mondays - molly - lance - brain - digger - pong
Hello, my name is not Domoni. But I am called that. Never out loud though. Just in print.
What an odd way to start a post that isn't about Live Aid, but almost was. On July 13, 1985 I sat in front of a TV in suburban Indiana and watched Bob Geldof sing "I Don't Like Mondays." I was 25. In a little over one year my daughter would be born.
My wife missed the Boomtown Rats that day. She was mowing the lawn in suburban Montreal. She was 15. In exactly one month she would turn 16. She had no idea that in a little over 15 years she would give birth to our daughter.
My older daughter will be 19 this year. She starts her second year of college this month. My younger daughter starts her Pre-Kindergarten classes this month. Someday, when she gets the joke, I will teach her to say to her older sister, "You are so last millennium."
I find it funny.
On July 13, 1985 I recorded Live Aid on videotape. I was focused on the TV. I winced with the "wit" of each MTV VJ. I pissed during commercials. I ate dinner in the living room.
Today I am watching it on DVD. I skip around. I pres pause. I do a few frame advances to see if I really saw that. But, most of all, I surf.
I looked up her name. The girl that said "I Don't Like Mondays." I considered writing about how I felt when that happened.
But I don't remember those feelings anymore. I just remember the shadows of feelings wrapped in memories. Even the song is no longer vivid.
I spend a moment with Scoble. Who leads me to Molly. Who reminds me of stalkers. So back to Scoble. Who mentions Talk Digger.
I look up "domoni.com/me". (Yes, daughter, I like the period right there.)
I discover that during my move Lance Mannion reiterated that the smartest bloggers are Mets fans. He mentions my post asserting that MLB owners are evil. He points a few to my scalper story. He neglects to mention that I have been a life long White Sox follower. Though the current ownership _______ (fill in your favorite word. an exercise in do-it-yourself blogging.) He also fails to mention that the baseball fans of Montreal were screwed over by MLB. But I mention that as often as possible.
An aside: Lance, I may grant you that the smartest bloggers are Mets fans. Proof that smart blogger does not equal smart baseball fan. Even bloggers have Achilles heels.
Damn, there were a lot of mullets in 1985.
Back to Talk Digger...Someone mentions my post about James Doohan. He saw it on a Wil Wheaton trackback. He lives in Sydney Australia. He used to live in Bloomington Indiana. About an hour from me at the time. I'm going to thank him for the kind words.
I did.
It seems I missed that Grow a Brain linked to me a couple of times. How did I miss this blog before tonight? Very eclectalinky. (My apologies to languagehat, my daughter and James Joyce.)
Sting looks so young. Did I look young? I had about the same amount of hair then. More hair than Phil Collins.
I remember Prufrock.I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
These are my nights. I move from topic to subject to person to blog to photo to need to want.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry I made you cry."
