Lullaby

"The Wheel"
W. B. Yeats

Through winter-time we call on spring,
And through the spring on summer call,
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter's best of all;
And after that there's nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come -
Nor know what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb.

I'm OK. You're OK.

Raise You A Kelis (I'm OK. You're OK.)

Because I'm so certain it's in the air tonight.... I know everyone's expecting "Caught Out There" but...

I'm OK. You're OK.

I'm OK. You're OK.

I'm OK. You're OK.

"She is literally the Polaroid of perfection!"—perhaps the deepest, most puzzling lyrical description down our way. 

I'm OK. You're OK.

Most glorious segment of most glorious early HBO confection:

I'm OK? You're OK? (Let's cast some doubt on our romance con los nineties.)

I'm OK. You're OK.

I'm OK. You're OK.

This seems to be the the only available clip from Blow Out, the tragically brief (only two seasons!!) Bravo series about Los Angeles hairdresser, loveable oaf, and mad scientist, Jonathon Antin. I wanted to post the incredible bit about the packaging of his custom showerheads in boxes full of rocks, or the bit about him "blessing" New York from his hotel balcony with a smattering of his own famous hair product, silky dirt, before a particularly stressful QVC appearance, but this will do. As Winter sets in and the World gets grey (and poorer by the minute), I find I need some Jonathon Product:

I'm OK. You're OK.

I'm OK. You're OK.

I'm OK. You're OK.