This is going to be short, quick, and dirty.

That’s what she said.

Okay, not so dirty after all. The beauty of writing an obscure blog is that I know exactly who reads it. All three people.  And that is perfect. Well, a bit more than three people but not by much, so tip of the hat to all of you, whether you are in parched Australia, the beautiful Canadian West, the United States of America or Mother Europe.  While I’m at it, let me check the stats to see where you’re from. Daaaamn. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that when I start typing google analytics the first suggestions that pop up are of the less than wholesome kind. Dirty after all I guess. It’s not because of my search history I promise.

Funny that a dude of no particular distinction can brush, however lightly, the life of people half way across the globe, or all the way across actually. Like I said, tip of that hat to you ladies and gentlemen.

I had a weirdly busy week and I did not get to pester the internetz with my vaccuous thoughts as much as I like. I was told so by an old friend yesterday. That’s the only good thing about aging, is that you get to have old friends. People who have put up with your bullshit for many years and have chosen to stay. Even though you are of no use or possible advancement to them. I guess that’s the definition of friendship. Also they have your back. It’s really among the most precious things in life and for that I’m thankful. it’s the kind of shit Bill Gates can’t buy. No one can. But I have it. Booyah. Hope you do too.

It looks like through an avalanche of circumstances my digital life has been lost, erased, wiped. I’m talking music,  all my archives, years of written stuff, a lifetime of photos, my imaginary celebrity sex tape.

Everything.

Gone.

Blow on your open hand like Roger “Verbal” Kint when he talks about the disapearance of Keyser Söze.

BTW, if you have not seen the Usual Suspects, do yourself a favour and drop any plan you have for this evening like a rancid infectious hot patatoe and find a way to see this movie. Most of you will have seen it already, but I know one or two among you are young enough to have missed it’s theatrical release. Prepare to have your mind blown or at the very least to have a WOAHHH Keanu moment.

So yeah, I’ve lost my digital life, or so it seems, I’m very equanimous about it. I guess it’s all my years of tipsy zen stoicism finally paying off. That’s why you have a strangely artsy picture of some mint as the figurehead of this post. I would have used a photograph of one of the cathedrals I haunted while living in Europe, but looks like those zeroes and ones might have turned into zeroes. So you get a bunch of mint and my backyard on this Good Friday instead. It feels oddly appropriate. Also, because I had to dig up a laptop old enough to have teeth marks from an actual dinosaur on it, I really don’t have the cpu power to beautify the picture in photoshop. The upside is that you are getting unadulterated reality. This is what life in this corner of the world looks like this morning. If you’re wondering, the mint comes from the local grocery store, I droppped it in some water about ten days ago and it has sprouted crazy roots. I grow mint every year for my mojitos you see. I’m just getting an early start to the season. Oddly appropriate for today like I said. You get some cheap ass herbs from a generic store, but not only do they refuse to die, if given half the chance, they make manifest the promise and magic of life, abundance, and also inebriation. I like my mojitos. Well, my drinking in general, it pushes back the circle of darkness yes? Yes.

By the way, I’m pretty sure this will be the summer of daiquiris (just letting you know), but that’s a story for another post. There will be no drinking today however.

Good Friday and not drinking. I mentioned this yesterday and I heard back “I don’t give a shit, I’m jewish”, which I thought was beautiful. Then drugs were involved though not for me. Of my numerous vices that is not one.

I am not übereligious or anything, I was raised catholic but by now I’m my own brand of belief, or lack thereof. I once described myself as wiccatholic, tongue in cheek and all.  But I don’t drink on Good Friday. I guess it’s my nod to family come and gone before me. I guess it’s my little way of remembering that perhaps there is more to all of this, and a feeble attempt to touch it. My dad used to say that rituals were signposts on the highway of our lives. They mark time, they indicate that not all days are mundanely identical. Or at least that they shoudn’t be.

So have a Good Friday. In whatever way you choose. Have a thought for the good people that came before you and think on the promise of the mint.

I do think there is more to all of this.