As Villanova beats North Carolina on a 3 point buzzer beater to win the national championship, I am thinking about how I want the great things from my youth and early adulthood preserved, not tarnished.
There are few things I despise more than the sad Jordan meme. It’s one thing to find humor in the GOAT sporting a Hitler mustache and getting accosted by a stretching underwear freak in an airplane aisle. It’s quite another to take an emotional moment in an amazing speech and use it to mock everything day in and day out. So despite his alma mater losing tonight, I hope that cheering Jordan, from when Carolina tied it up just seconds (in game time) before, becomes the new way he’s splattered incessantly over my timeline.
This brings me to another amazing thing that popped up this weekend, reunited Guns n Roses. I don’t care if Axl if thin or packing a few pounds. I don’t care if Slash wears the top hat not as a fashion statement, but to hide a naturally balding dome. I don’t care who the drummer is or what excuse is offered for whomever is invoked. I don’t care if Slash plays Madagascar, nor do I care if Axl sings anything from the VR catalog. I need them to cause mayhem again. I need another riot in Montreal. I need to look back 28-1/2 years, when I was the first kid at school to stick a CD player in my car, and I had Appetite blasting before Welcome to the Jungle got airplay and well before anyone decided Rocket Queen was the diamond on that album.
These are the enduring statements of greatness that I need.
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