The Police album Synchronicity is 30 years old on June 1. And so is everything else about the summer of 1983.
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Hey. Five months since I blogged? Five?? Forgive me.
But I come bearing another TONSIL book giveaway as small penance — perfect summertime reading. It’s Lou Berney‘s new book, Whiplash River, the sequel to his very enjoyable Gutshot Straight. Already!
Lou is one of a kind: Born n’ raised in Oklahoma City, went to Bishop McGuinness High School, then got a journalism degree at Loyola in New Orleans, where he was editor of the Maroon — hey, wait, that’s MY life!
Well, Lou did it all first.
Actual proof that I still exist: National Journal‘s Hotline came knocking the other day, with lighthearted questions for their Friday Feature Q&A. The what? The hunh? National Journal is a D.C. publication that is so essential to the Beltway power/media structure that it costs, like, hundreds (thousands?) of dollars to subscribe. Otherwise I would link you to the feature. But now that it’s been out a f ew days, I’m just going to “borrow” it, with a friendly shout-out to the writer, Amanda Munoz-Temple, who I guess bangs these things out every week! Enjoy…
What seemed like half the freshman class of Bishop McGuinness High School went to see the Go-Go’s on their Vacation tour at the Oklahoma City Myriad Center University of Oklahoma Lloyd Noble Center (speak, memory! Or speak, Derba! Or, you know who would really know — Andrea Martinez). Thanks to the interwebs, I can at least confirm that this happened on October 2, 1982. We had the beat.
Big hailstorm Sunday back in the land of my birth. The wind comes right behind the plain … and fucks shit up. I feel bad for everyone’s car. I also feel bad for watching these over and over. I love the people and their acksints. Sounds like home; looks like it too. I can almost smell that wonderful ozoney storm smell.
Here’s a video somebody shot inside Penn Square Mall in Oklahoma City. Wait and see what happens around the 4:15 marker…
Is it a book tour or just a long nostalgia trip? And is it my own nostalgia, or some longer epic nostalgia trip that anticipates the demise of the printed word? Yikes! In any case, strap in…