City of Legends

Ah, February…the albatross of months.  It has opened with a salvo…

an old friend contacted me just this morning and let me know that he is about to be laid off and wanted to see if I could help him find a new job.  Of course I will help, gheeze. 

Another, less old friend, contacted me after a nearly a two-year silence to ask me to remove their name and trace from throughout my blogosphere.  That’s gonna require some serious data mining and manipulation (not to mention my natural revulsion to rewriting history…as a writer, I view that as inherently evil).  But I will do what I can.  The modern world has made it more difficult to change colours like the chameleon, personal histories stay public record for decades.  It can be a bummer, I know.  Yet, I can only imagine how frustrating it would have been for Proust in this day and age…everyone intersecting with his past would demand an edit or redact.

Thursday is February 4.  My brother Mark’s birthday.  A day of fateful changes and intersecting destinies.  You can keep your Halloween, your Friday the 13th, your wedding anniversaries…that is the scary day on my calendar as so many truly transformative things have occurred on that date in my timeline.

Tomorrow is Groundhog’s Day.  But something else is happening that day and I can’t, for the life of me, recall what it is.  That bothers me, a great deal.  Maybe it is something important.  Maybe not.

And we all know what February 12th is on my calendar (if not, it is none of your business…not a secret, I just keep getting tired of retelling the tale when it is out there all ready).