tomorrow may rain, so i'll follow the sun.

as anyone who's done it can tell you, there is a certain melancholy to growning older. in an interview on the morning show today, paul mccartney said when asked if he were a nostalgic guy - »i like to look both ways.« good advice when crossing a busy street, or... say... the busy street of time. »i like to look both ways.« yeah, paul - me, too.

i like to look to the future & imagine the growth of technology and hope for the growth of human understanding. we are sure to conquer diseases while simultaneously conquering overcrowding. sure, we're exploring the moon, but at some point, someone in some overcrowded city somewhere is gonna say - »hey, what about nebraska? there's plenty of room there!« we are collectively brilliant, and it's astounding to hear what's been invented or discovered every single day. we will figure out so many things, in the future.

ah, but... one thing i am sure will be missing in the future is a certain differentness in each of us. i mean, yeah, partisanship is ripping us apart, but that is not true differentness - that's just the sheen of politics over society. there is a fearful sameness pervading the world - the indisputable symptoms being the everything from mcdonald's in paris to the defeat of the recessive blond-haired gene in the universal pool.

i like to look to the past & appreciate that differentness, the uniqueness of a variety of existences isolated by the difficulty of simply getting around each day, and the innocence. yes, the imagined simplicity of the past is a facade we paste over the deep & painful complexities just like the pasted-on smiles of the ovaltine mom, but while perhaps not truly simple, there was yet an innocence. good girls didn't dress that way. good boys didn't write on the walls. there were limits to the behaviour that decent society would tolerate, and these limits served to keep the general order, keep the traffic moving on that busy street of time.

of course, where there are limits, there will be rebellion, and rebellion in the 60s led to a society today that is more open, tolerant, transparent. but the incessant transparency of today's world can leave one a bit frazzled, and when everything is available, there is nothing left with which to tantalize each other. secrecy, mystery - they've gotten a bad rap. hidden lives of the tiger woods variety are all kinds of wrong -- but wearing your skirts a wee bit longer in public to leave wee a bit o' something to the imagination of your poor, frazzled old man - something you in turn provide to him in private. ah, there is gold in that secrecy, there is.

paul's right about looking both ways. there's is a lot of hope in the sunrise, but there is a lot to cherish in the twilight, too.