Happy St. Rusty's Day

An Ode to Rusty Magee on the Anniversary of His Death...written a couple of years ago.

(It's by Rusty, of course. Stupid MySpace.)

Valentine’s Day = no celebration for me. St. Valentine was beaten to death and then beheaded…what’s to celebrate?

Plus, I’m 48, I’m single, I’m unemployed and I don’t have a dog. Pretty much rock bottom.

My rock bottom is comparatively pretty shiny. I live in Manhattan, have a rent-stabilized apartment, a membership to New York Sports Club (where I can watch 80s Pop video) and I’m not going to go hungry any time soon. But once I realized I was deep in the dirt, I decided to slow on down and pick away at the nuggets for a while.

And when I took my foot off the pedal, I found Rusty again. It always happens just when I need it.

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