it would be funny to me if Taylor Swift just started writing obvious as hell sports analogy songs with titles like “Touchdown” and “Off Sides,” just completely enamored by a new niche language she hadn’t been privy to before but that is an old cliche to much of the world.

“In this song, ‘Touch Down’ means two things. Firstly….”

“TAYLOR, WE KNOW”

This is an incredible piece of historical music journalism that tries to match MLK’s words about the Birmingham bombing of 1963 to Coltrane’s notes in “Alabama.”

“For Dr. King: Coltrane, Hidden Texts, and "Alabama,” 2—Coltrane’s Text"

“Raise your hand if you have ever used a computer.”

“the crux of the crush”

Second cover song of January is up live tonight on the Patreon. Li’l preview here. HillsDeck.com

I was walking from my car to the grocery store today, thinking about how hard it is to stay optimistic about so many aspects of the world right now. My inner monologue winded down with something like, “I dunno, maybe this all just ends badly. Maybe we don’t help each other out in the end and grow and evolve.” I don’t usually think like this; it really made me sad.

At that same moment, a woman walking out of the grocery store with one brown bag of items and a small dog on a leash experienced a complete failure of bag-architecture. There was a big rip down the center and several items fell to the ground. A roll of toilet paper rolled out of arm’s reach, to perfectly accent the annoyance. Her dog began barking madly as she tried to bend over and reclaim the items while not letting go of the bag, which still contained half her purchases. I said, “Hey, can I help you out?”

“Yes, please,” she said. I scurried around getting the loose items off the ground. She pointed out which car is hers. As we begin to walk over there, to my utter disbelief, she kicks her dog. It made a sound and the dog winced and whimpered. If I was just passing by, not holding her toilet paper, I’m not sure what I woulda done, to be honest, but something about being along side her, carrying her home goods, left me with zero hesitation.

“YOU CAN’T KICK THE FUCKING DOG,” I said.

“He bit me!” she countered.

“Yeah, I wonder why. Maybe it’s because you treat him like shit.”

“He’s a bad dog,” she said again, this time more meekly.

I put her items on the roof of her car, said “don’t kick your dog, you’re his whole world,” and walked away.

Then I remembered what I was thinking about when her bag ripped and got even more despondent. It’s funny how when it’s a good “sign,” I’ll sometimes just about bend over backwards to convince myself it’s exactly what I think it is and means what I hope it does. And now I found myself wondering, “Am I allowed to not believe this was a sign? Not an answer to my internal line of thought at that moment?”

There’s no shortage of serious writing from people way smarter than me about the benefits of Magical Thinking, but it’s funny (like, as in, true gallows humor) how the same structural scaffolding can corner you into confronting how some stray line of utterly bleak, pessimistic thought you had one day walking into the grocery store might be closer to the truth of the situation than not.

It shook me good. I bought milk and tomato sauce. I asked for double bags.

Love and protect your pets. Try to keep your head up. We’ll try this all again tomorrow.

Everyone always mentions that NYT was critical of Sgt. Pepper but their original take on Abbey Road is even worse. Also mind-blowing to me someone could mix up Paul & John as the lead vocalist, but to be fair, Oh Darling is a very Lennon-esque delivery.