house we used to live in

Actually, it isn't; I lived in the identical house next door to it during a particularly turbulent era about a decade and a half ago. The one I lived in is still standing, no doubt propped up by a coalition of vermin and demons that hide in the walls. I've known plenty of people who lived in this one over the years (the joke about Baton Rouge is that there are only four girlfriends and six apartments to go around) and as it turns out, I knew a lot of people that until Friday lived in that building - band people, town characters, my editor - so I'm glad everybody made it out OK when this one caught fire in the wee hours.



Here is the inferno from over the shoulder of my friends' house, which was thankfully spared



and a picture of what it looked like in 1924 when it was built. (Thanks, Melissa!)

And though I never lived in that building, upon seeing this great old Smithereens song was in my (green) thoughts. Corny, I know, but the Smithereens are peerless at expressing such things without embarrassment.



Speaking of houses and how we used to live in them, my daughter swapped her room for the music room in our house. I balked in a pouty "It's miiine" kinda way - much of my freelance years were spent in there when I couldn't deal with coffee shop work/life and vice versa - but really, it was a genius transaction. Her room is now the tidy nook that fits her ever-forming-like-a-crystal-formation personality and our music room shall soon be a mad pad with room for a drum kit. Pics when the dust settles, but yes, nothing is "yours"; things are ephemeral, and to live in this world is to be ready to move when the ephemerality kicks in.