What I Do When I'm Sick

Tyler and I have been getting Rolling Stone subscriptions for over two years now, I think. And Ty had them way before that. Sometimes Rolling Stone is good, other times I curse its stupid articles about U2 and John Mayer.

For Christmas, Tyler's brother Ryan bought him an old RS from 1973 or 74.


I enjoyed looking at all the old ads; it reminded me of the summer I spent working in the basement of Second Chance Antiques, where I'd spend the hours of my days working hard thumbing through the hundreds of old Life magazines from the 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s.

It was in Second Chance where I first saw the horrifying picture of Charles Manson on the December 19th, 1969 cover and finally learned who the hell Manson was (I know, I know, it took me awhile, but I was 18 and more concerned about reading the latest edition of People than learning about a crazy murderer. Five years later I read Helter Skelter, okay? Now I know more about Manson than I ever wanted to.)

Anyway, back to Rolling Stone. I'd say for about the past year or so -- and certainly the past six months -- all things 70s have been rotating on my iPod. Ty will attest to how tired he is of hearing Fleetwood Mac. And the 70s is back in the fashion world -- the bellbottoms I wore so proudly in sixth grade are BACK! Along with circular-framed sunglasses, flowy shirts, beige and natural colors, flowery prints, all things fringe, Farrah feathered hair, etc.

So I just loved the ad of this guy, the epitome of every dude in the 70s with his fabulous mustache and flowing locks:

I also love (in the light of the recent astrology nightmares) that when RS interviewed some musicians about how it feels to be turning (gasp!) 30, the spread was organized not by month, but by ASTROLOGICAL SIGN! Reminded me of Edie Beale in Grey Gardens. ("The Libra husband is reasonable. He is a born judge, and no other zodiacal type can order his life with so much wisdom. God! That's all I need: order! That's all I need, an ordered life. You know, a manager. But he's got to be a Libran.")


Look at how much Joni Mitchell changed in ten years!


Love from the Cold Front (pun intended),

Sarah