When exactly does the autumn of your life end? If my internal clock is correct it started counting down this week. “Jan 6” that give me exactly 20 months of autumn left in my own private Idaho. As I dwell on this calendar metaphor it occurs to me what a long strange trip it’s been. Am I to head gentle into that good night. Go into the woods as a Brahmin disengaging from the responsibilities to leave it to the younger generation. Wait have you carefully noticed the ambitions set of the Whatever Generation. Fuck, I’m turning that hourglass upside-down