Subway Humor

This seemed pretty funny when I thought of it at 1 a.m. on the subway (OK, it might have been earlier, but it sure felt like 1 a.m.). But the humor might be a bit, er, obscure at best:

Rock band with a secret for a never-dying career? Rowling Stone.

That led me to think of another answer (Bowling Bawl) which might be described as what happens when you can't make it in the fast lane.

Then I started really reaching (is Counting Crowes Feet really what a rock band does as it ages?), but I won't inflict that on you.

Oh wait, I already did. Sorry.

For the first 10 months of 2005, my apartment was basically a construction site. (The actual work took maybe 2 weeks, but that's another story.) When it was finally finished, I found myself really reluctant to invite my friends over. Odd, because I used to love having people over - I was proud of my place. Now it is, objectively speaking, "nicer". My new kitchen is in colors and styles I chose - very attractive, both warm and practical. But it is much more sophisticated and grown-up; it is no longer the kind of "down-home" place that is consistent with my self-image.

In Blink, Malcolm Gladwell writes about the "fist", or unintentional distinctive pattern, found in radio operators' signals and in relationships. The "fist" may be analogized to an underlying genetic code, but I imagine it almost as fractals - a pattern that recursively permeates one's life.