Why is that today - of ALL days - I'm feeling a strange kinship with Suzanne Vega? Is that wrong? After all, not only have I never menstruated, but I've never had torrid sex with a swarthy stranger on the polished boards of my NYC loft, with abstract art hanging from the walls while 78rpm jazz records play on my stolen turntable. Are these prerequisites for appreciating her unique brand of socio-politica,l 'new voice of feminism' folk rock? And if it is, and my feelings for Ms. Vega are baseless, is this a sign that my life even emptier than I had at first anticipated?
I wonder if John Fogerty is awake.
Posted by David at May 22, 2004 07:50 PM | TrackBack