t-shirts & shorts?

i've said it before. there are two kinds of californians. there is the type that wear t-shirt and shorts no matter the temperature as long as a sliver of sun is shining. then there is the type who put on the sweaters and ear muffs when the sun peaks behind a scrim of clouds and the temperature dips below 65 f.

i'm the latter kind. i love cold but hate being cold. i bundle up big time. but can you believe it? today was like spring. the whole weekend is supposed to be sunny and warm. the walk home tonight was san jacket with my sleeves rolled up, and the streets of mid-town teeming with people ready to get their groove on.

i'm sure to see people in t-shirts and shorts tomorrow and sunday. i might join them if it's warm enough. in the meantime i was thinking about aging and age. there was an article on the radio with a guy who wrote a book about artists in old age. how fecundity in later life was fairly rare. the writer posited that maybe one reason why artists historically died young is because everyone died young. as little as 150 years ago i'd be at the age of 43 well into geezer hood. now with examples like keith richards gracing the cover the rolling stone magazine and art-rockers sonic youth who are now sitting in their 50s with greying heads as proof perhaps the ideas of the life of artists and aging need to be reassessed.

i mean even the young get old. right? the differences between generations stopped mattering to me by the time i hit 25. i admit that i'm biased and like the author of the new book about artists in old age i have a vested interest in the subject because i am now officially an old man, relatively, and still learning my art.

maybe that's it: energy and enthusiasm. i heard the southern writer reynolds price passed away. i haven't read much by price but what little i have read i was struck by a lyricism and a passion for living, what iggy pop called LUST FOR LIFE, a joy in utter being. who has the answers? i sure as hell don't. most of us don't know where we are going and how we'll get there. but we might have an idea. what force drives the green fuse for me is just that thing old iggy pop told us about. fucking LUST FOR LIFE.