I'm back, baby!

The little publicized Bone blogging hiatus is officially over, at nineteen days. To put that into persepctive historically speaking, it's longer than the Cuban Missile Crisis, but slightly shorter than the marriage of Lisa Marie and Nicolas Cage. Also, it has received slightly less publicity than the Mike Gravel Presidential campaign, but slightly more than the latest Carrot Top DVD.

So why come back now? Why today? Maybe it's because today is Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday. Perhaps I was reminded of my own ill-fated trip to the Mardi Gras in 2001 and that inspired me to write.

Maybe it was the guilt of having received three Excellence In Blogging awards (thanks Sage, Gautami, and Marcia) in the past few days, yet not having blogged in almost three weeks.

Maybe it had something to do with the secretary at work making it a point to tell me the actress who played Amy Vining on General Hospital had passed away. And three other people emailing to tell me the same news. Really people, am I the biggest GH fan any of you know? On second thought, don't answer that.

Or maybe there is no reason. Maybe it's just one of those great mysteries of life. A question that has no answer. Such as, why is there no other word for synonym? Why don't they make mouse-flavored cat food? Why did John Waite only have that one song? And what is the point of that football robot thing Fox shows on the NFL games?

I apologize for the extended hiatus. Honestly, I think my case of the Januarys just lasted a little longer this year than it usually does. For about two weeks, all I wanted to do was come home in the afternoon, climb into bed and watch TV. OK, so that's always what I want to do, but for about two weeks, I actually did it.

I hate being down. I've always felt like I'm the one who is supposed to be up. With friends, I always feel like I'm the one who's supposed to entertain and make people laugh. In school, I was the one who winked at the dark, mysterious Spanish teacher, and later became Spanish Club President.

Thankfully, I do feel like I'm emerging from these winter doldrums. Possibly because it's 10:00 at night, it's February, and it's 70 degrees outside.

So what have I been up to, other than working and lying in bed? Let's see, I caught a nasty stomach bug for a couple of days last week and lost eight pounds with the on-your-knees-clinging-to-the-toilet-seat diet. After that, I walked around all light-headed and dizzy for a day or two. That was pretty cool.

I also watched Stroker Ace one night on CMT. (Wow, I can't believe I just admitted that. I must still be light-headed.) All you need to know is it stars Burt Reynolds and Loni Anderson. If that doesn't scream cinematic magic, I don't know what does. Oh, and there's also a rousing performance by the incomparable Jim Nabors in a supporting actor role.

This weekend, I downloaded seventeen songs, as I continue to use up the three iTunes gift cards I received for Christmas. The new downloads include Adam Sandler's Chanukah and Thanksgiving songs, "Puttin' On The Ritz" by Taco, "Tricky Tricky" by Lou Bega, "Who's Johnny" by DeBarge, and "All My Life" by the vastly underrated R&B duo K-Ci & JoJo.

Thanks for the emails and IM's and comments checking on me. One thing I was reminded of during this hiatus is that we do make actual friends doing this blogging thing. I've missed you guys. I'm looking forward to catching up with all of you and returning to writing about all the insignificant things in life.

"I ain't missing you at all, since you've been gone away. I ain't missing you, no matter what my friends say..."

iTunes aNonymous

Last Wednesday evening, a blogger you know ventured into the iTunes store, for the first time ever.

It started off innocently enough, a single, heterosexual, 34-year-old male in search of the song "I'm Your Man" by Wham. I mean, what's more normal than that? A user name and password were selected. An account was created. A search was conducted. The song was located and downloaded.

And then...

Oh my darling, Clementine! Everywhere I looked, songs I loved were calling out to me. Down every corridor were private eyes, naked eyes, or an eye in the sky. It was like Behind The Music and Surreal Life had opened up a Sam Goody!

Yes, I realize I am late coming to this party, but I've only had my iPod since last Christmas. Besides, I never claimed to be on the cutting edge, just the opposite, actually.

By the end of that first night, I had downloaded fifteen songs, including but not limited to Erasure, P.M. Dawn, Steve Winwood, Tabitha's Secret, and yes, even Hanson. (At this point, I will completely understand if you never read my blog again.)

Still, I felt pretty good. I'd told myself I would not surpass twenty songs, and I had stayed within that limit. Then came Thursday. By the time head hit pillow Thursday night, I had downloaded thirty-four songs and may or may not have promised my firstborn to Steve Jobs.

Sure that sounds drastic at first, until you learn there are twenty-six available downloads for Wham on iTunes. Suddenly, I'm like a song-starved Esau in search of musical pottage.

I need help. I'm addicted. How can I not be? Apple just makes it so easy. I don't have to get dressed or leave home. Plus, 99 cents seems like such a nominal fee for cheesy musical goodness. Who amongst us can resist? I'm only flesh and blood, for crying out loud.

People I've talked to say it will get better. That eventually, I'll exceed my credit card limit, be unable to pay my bills, and my internet will be disconnected. Problem solved.

I hope so. Because right now, iTunes, you are an obsession. I can't fight this feeling much longer, and I'm quickly forgetting what I started fighting for.

In closing, I would like to wish a happy 44th birthday to my favorite male figure skater, Olympic gold medalist Brian Boitano. Ooo, I wonder if they have that song on iTunes!

"What would Brian Boitano do if he was here right now? He'd make a plan and he'd follow thru. That's what Brian Boitano'd do..."

Taste of rain

I was halfway thru my first lap on the three-quarter mile track when the first drops of rain hit my skin, one on my right arm and one on my face, right in the middle of "Brass Monkey," jarring me from my iPod induced trance.

Within seconds, it was pouring. My first inclination was to throw myself into the fetal position, using every bit of clothing and body mass I had to protect Nan until the rain stopped. But she was in her iPod cover, and tucked underneath my shirt, so I thought she would be OK.

My next inclination was to throw up my hands and scream, "Why! Why does it wait to rain until the minute I start running?" But I refrained.

And then something happened.

I found myself enjoying the rain. I didn't speed up. Instead I continued to run at my usual pace, listening to the quiet noise the rain made falling thru the trees, feeling its coolness hit my skin.

By the time I got back around to the parking lot, I was drenched. My clothes felt heavy. I wanted to laugh. Part of me wanted to keep running.

Slowing to a walk, I looked heavenward and opened my mouth, letting the raindrops hit my tongue. It reminded me of being a kid. It reminded me I was alive.

I don't know when or where my sometimes frustration with rain began. But today I remembered something I knew all along. There are much worse things in life than getting caught in the rain.

Sometimes there's nothing better.

"I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane. When I hear it I just can't believe I never liked the rain..."