The FOUR SEASONS again passed in a BLUR. It seems like just yesterday that it was THE FALL and now LONG WINTERS envelop us all. From ALABAMA to BOSTON to CHICAGO, you hit the PAVEMENT, cutting your holiday shopping to the WIRE as per usual. Now you hoist another CAN, scarf down more CAKE, and suffer indigestion and CRAMPS from too much LAMBCHOP and an excess of RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS. NO DOUBT you ate HUMBLE PIE too after learning your weight isn’t so LOW anymore. Blame it on SUGAR and your SWEET tooth if you must.
Your little PIXIES with their excitable SMALL FACES, in all of their blazing SONIC YOUTH, run around the house like MANIC STREET PREACHERS battling for control of the TELEVISION. All you hear are TALKING HEADS that TALK TALK and talk. It’s MADNESS, I tell ya! You’re tired and feel like a TORTOISE surrounded by hungry ANIMALS, deep in a HOLE, beaten to a PULP and gasping for AIR amid THE DARKNESS. YES, you’d LOVE an OASIS of calm. Even a FREE MAGAZINE would give you a RUSH.
But SPARKS fly. DOORS slam. It’s DIRE STRAITS and CLASH after clash. You really feel the SQUEEZE. Your SPIRIT is lagging. You feel like a FOREIGNER in your own home and as old as a GRANDADDY though you’re just in your 30s. You don’t need NIRVANA, a bona fide CURE or even HAPPY MONDAYS week after week to ease the STING of holiday upheaval. All you ask for are a few tender STROKES, a gentle KISS and some PEACE AND QUIET as you work your STIFF LITTLE FINGERS to the bone. Maybe in THE NEW YEAR. HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL.
