it's all over now, baby blue.

it turns out this web log has somehow found its way onto a list of blogs authored by my fellow 1999 graduates of spanish fork high school, which is weird. something else triggered my memory of high school last week. my junior year, i was privileged to be a part of the 'golden dawn,' a group headed by mr. michael olson, whose only aim, it seemed, was the downfall of tony johns (this was in retaliation to his constant assailing of Nathan Rees, or NR, in Mr. Clark's 7th (or was it sixth?) grade class). mr. olson was obsessed with the number 44. were he to ever encounter triple fours, it would be as if the oracle at delphi (a constant theme in his classroom) were calling down to give guidance and blessing. obviously then, it would make sense that almost all of mr. olson's essays were 444 words long. to be different, and to show my dedication to jesus, i would write essays 333 words in length. but, when a member of the g.d. showed me the fourth verse of this fourth chapter, i wrote all subsequent essays 444 words long. my high school email address quickly became landslide44@webtv.com. landslide in honor of the smashing pumpkins' cover of fleetwood mac, and the 44 in honor of the naturally-occurring portentousness of the golden number. i think the only person i ever emailed from that account was the pig steve forsey.

what does this all matter? i came to understand the deepness of the universe, and my small, electron-like nature within it, when i saw this sign on broome street last week. mind you, i walked by this place every day for the past year. but it wasn't until last week, until the class of sfhs1999 came back to haunt me, that i realized the address was the only thing that really mattered anymore. and what was $10 to know what the rest of my life would bring me? tell me please, oracle of broome street, am i a pair of ragged claws? do i have a bald spot in the middle of my hair?