Rock 'n' Roll, Robots & PTTSD

I saw this trawling around the supermarket this morning.

“What the hell… ?” I said to one of the other shoppers.

“It’s a robot,” she said helpfully.

Well, yes. Obviously. But what’s it supposed to do?

The shopper didn’t know. The guy stacking the boxes didn’t know. The cashier didn’t know.

A great mystery.



My PTTSS (Post-Trumansburg Traumatic Stress Syndrome) lingered till some time this morning.

The temperature hovered close to 90°, too hot for running, too hot even for gardening, so I mostly sat outside for two days beneath an enormous hat, watching people determinedly tromp the trail and finishing Joe Hagan’s most excellent bio of Rolling Stone founder Jann Wenner, a must-read for anyone deluded enough to believe rock ‘n’ roll defined a generation or represented an innovation in the evolution of culture^1,2,3

Then I finally connected with Max who talked me down out of my angst and then discussed a quandary he’s been grappling with, to wit: The women he’s attracted to are free spirits who never particularly relish monogamy. And he likes the fact that they’re free spirits, but he prefers monogamy.

“Well, they say that men are attracted to women who remind them of their mothers on some level,” I remarked. “And I was never particularly into monogamy. I mean, I was when I was married to your father because that was the agreement, and I believe in honoring agreements.

“But most of the time, monogamy was a time management principle for me rather than a romantic code. How can you possibly find the time to go to work, run a household, pursue your own creative projects, be a parent, shop for vegetables, walk your dogs, sew loose buttons on to shirts or do any of the other things you have to commit to in order to be a real human boy or girl if you’re juggling two or more relationships? Relationships take a lot of energy.”

Then we talked about With Justice for Some. Launch dates, editorial calendar, social media presence etc.

I want to do a piece on that Alabama woman who was charged with manslaughter after someone shot her, and she miscarried. I mean that is some seriously Republic of Gilead-type shit.

And I feel normal enough to go back to scribbling on the Work in Progress tomorrow.

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¹ John Lennon was always the Beatle I disliked the most, so I was pleased to learn that the working class hero schtick was invented by Wenner as a means of selling magazines.
² In fact, if I had to listen to phallic guitar music, I vastly preferred The Who, Cream or even various of Stevie Winwood’s psychedelic rock bands to the Beatles or the Rolling Stones
³ But, of course, my favorite band was always The Grateful Dead, as much for the culture as for the music