Dearest Mentok's lovely comment here brought to the fore a question I often ask myself: How the heck did I end up doing what I do??
I mean this in the sense of career, of bacon-on-the-table job, of gainful employ. For you see, I am at happiest with words, with music, with people, with stories. And yet I have ended up in a field heavily planted with numbers, studded with balance sheets, and irrigated by rivers of ca$hflow. My leanings are lefty, pinko, liberal, but I have found myself most usually surrounded by conservative capitalists.
Now I must say that where I ply my trade now is much more in line with my values. Back in En-ger-lund I was for eleven years a cog in a mighty money machine whose sole purpose was to generate profit and boost share price. All else was irrelevant, resistance was futile. Nowadays I'm in the bosom of a co-operative financial system that explicitly puts people before profits. The folk are good & nice, if still capitalist. And they have heart.
However, I'm still a banker, and I don't feel like one.
I must say this disconnect doesn't bother me as much now as it did prior to my move to Vancouver over two years (yoiks!) ago. This is due in equally large parts to the aforementioned nature of my employer, a greatly recalibrated work/life balance, and the fact that I love living in Vancouver. Love it. Loveitloveitloveit. It's also due to the move itself; you see, we were wrapped in heavy cloak of inertia that kept us weighted down where we were. But there was also a comfortable lining to that inertia, one woven of familiarity and the known. Casting off that garment was scary and unsettling, but ultimately liberating. For now I know that if ever I find myself wearing it again, I can, in fact, take it off.
So, I'm still a banker, and I don't feel like one. But that's OK, something wonderful is bound to happen at some point.
Ach, enough of my navel-contemplating, and onto the tunes! Rather appropriately, this has been on the empeethree playah in the car of late. I guarantee you if you crank it up while driving, roll down the windows, and belt it out at top volume, folks will get out of your way. Possibly marvelling at your uber-cool taste, but possibly not.
Public Image Limited - This Is Not A Love Song (try eBay)
Yes, another PiL track. That's two in two days (I'm still trying to banish those wee mummies from my head, I should get there by the weekend), but you deserve it! You should likewise get yerself over to see the Spoilt Victorian Child and his recent PiL piece.
And since you're all so lovely, Dearest Friends, here are a few PiL viddies to viddy. I purposefully skipped that of "Love Song," as it's actually rather cheesy - Johnny Lydon gurning in front of skyscrapers and being chauffeured around in a vintage automobile. Yawn! These, however, are sublime:
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