men_casually_insult_me tender_square he was singing in the cafeteria, a ditty about the rain, never letting the world forget he's a musician outside of his day job. "what song is that?" i asked, waiting for the keurig to warm water. "uh...it's from a little band called the beatles--ever heard of them?" he cracked. i rolled my eyes and sighed. "i know who the beatles are," i asserted. "i just don't know that song." 230626 ... raze he referred to me in print as "formerly prolific, now reclusive". as if a person stops being an artist when they turn inward and decide what they create is no longer meant for public consumption. this from a man who has produced exactly one piece of work in his lifetime — a pedestrian piece of plastic no one remembers or cares about, nineteen years in the rear_view_mirror. 230629 what's it to you? who go blather from