I've loved Lou Reed since high school. Had all his albums on vinyl—got to see him twice in concert (New York Stories and Red Joy Stick tours, if memory serves). You know how you go back to the music that suits you....that serves you? Well, this song was always one of my favorites (along with Andy's Chest and Vicious and about 87 others). Lately, I've been a bit obsessed.
See, this year has been a bit hellish. Except that it hasn't. Our company—like just about everyone else's—has suffered. But we felt the first blow back in 2007, so this just seems like old news. The crazy part of this year has been health-related. Topsy-turvy upside-down turning issues. First me, then him.
So when Sam says to me last night, "I have a perfect life," I have to give him all kinds of credit. He was diagnosed with cancer about a month ago, and yeah, I'm scared out of my ever-loving mind. But somehow, he's not. He, he says, as he wraps me up in his big, fucking arms, has a perfect life.