Stayin’ Alive – no, that’s not a COVID reference… nor black lives matter…

I’m taking my third break from the news in as many months.

The first was in March, the news was 24×7 COVID COVID COVID and yet we still knew nothing… all the stats were contradictory, our learnings evolving and any real test/vaccine/development was months off – nothing advanced my understanding of anything. Nothing really mattered. So I stopped watching.

In late April, I got in the car for a grocery run and turned on the radio… it was the 24th and literally the first news that I had heard in a month was Trump telling us that he thinks we should inject bleach to kill the Corona virus. I turned off the radio, confident in my decision to withdraw from the news. Nothing still mattered.

The past couple of weeks have not afforded such luxury of ignorance. However, the level of craziness and tragedy had become too much to take so I went searching for a brief respite and happened upon the 1977 video for Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees:

This video just makes me happy. What is it about this song that makes you want to strut your stuff (or if you rather, some solo strutting). Hell I spent 4 years in marching band and was never able to walk in such solid lockstep like these 3! Knock disco all you want, but if you tell me you aren’t tapping your toe while listening to this there is something seriously wrong with you.

However, looking past the music, this video fascinates me. I can actually see my entire life played out by these 3 sexy men:

Let’s start out with Robin on the right. That was me as a kid.

Dorky. Nowhere near as cool as the kids around me. Always slightly apart from the group. Always looking in the wrong place…

Yep, that was me.

However, growing out of my awkward years, I always thought of myself as the the man in the middle, Jesus in tight pants, Barry! While I never kept the long flowing locks that Barry has, I always had a full head of hair! Perfect teeth! Impeccable fashion sense and oh so totally able to pull off wearing big gold chains.

However, becoming more self-aware as I get older, I realize that I have become (and probably always was) more of a Maurice:

Time has not been kind to my hairline and like Maurice, I have far too little hair on top and far too much hair in the back (thanks to not having had a haircut in over 6 months!). Moreover, the sweet innocent, somewhat awkward kid that I used to be has very much turned into a slack-jawed troll fresh out from under the bridge where he stores the bodies. But, like my man Maurice, I still have nice teeth.

I’m not sure what it says about you to have your entire life to date summed up by a Bee Gees video, but I’m sure it isn’t good…

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