It's apparent I'm not awake yet. The lights are on but no one's home. I've been at work about 20 minutes, and within the past two I've seemingly been misreading everything.
Looking over some lists of performers with new events coming up:
Frank Sinatra, Jr. was truncated in my mind to Frank Sinatra.
Bill Cosby transfigured into Bing Crosby.
And my mind screamed, DEAD MEN CAN'T MAKE MUSIC!
But tell that to Tupac and Biggie, right?
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Maybe, someday, I'll feel like writing about my thoughts, my life, myself.
Probably not, but it couldn't hurt to set aside a blog for that purpose -- just in case.
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