45 today and Grandaddy shuffled into my ears with this incredibly appropriate song:

I'm OK/With my decay/I have no choice/I have no voice/I have no say/In my decay/I have no choice/so I'll rejoice/

Ohna Apoa and Kiloh gave me an incredibly appropriate gift of a turntable so I can finally play all my 45s. Naturally, I'm hoping to get through 45 of them. I started by taking myself back once more to the 1980s in the Neill Lounge/Aitken Disco where Musical Youth were passing the dutchie to the totally wired fall and Robbie was breaking the DJ's lights dancing to Depeche Mode. Then I decided to let Kiloh break things up a bit with a choice of her own. She went straight for The American by Simple Minds leaving me straight back in the 80s and visions of young men in big coats.

I'll carry on my celebrations now by reading Steven Pinker and Ray Jackendoff to prepare for class this afternoon.

B-}