A warning to the people who know me personally.

It happens every year.  It happens all at once like, in one cloudy afternoon.  It happened today.  Fall has happened and it happened just now.  Summer is over.

From now on expect to hear sad slow acoustic music from The Most Depressing iPod In The World (it has been called this by more than a few people all independent of each other.)  melancholy, sappy, plinky-plunky folk music from here on out.  Just like every fall.  If you find yourself a bit too peppy and upbeat at any time, just give me a call and ask to listen to what I’m rockin that day and I should be able to bring you down.  Happens every fall.

 

I have no plans to at the moment but I can’t promise that I won’t read The Grapes of Wrath again this year.  It happens every fall.  A week of me moping around feeling bad for the downtrodden but resilient Joads.  I’ll try not to subject you all to that but again, I make no promises.

 

I’ll watch your new TV comedies, evil New Fall Schedule, but don’t expect me not to balance it out with healthy dose of independent films about losing love or going home after a lifetime away to care for a dying parent.  You all know what I’m talking about, lots of corduroy jackets and tons of Phillip Seymour Hoffman.  I’ll wipe those canned jokes right out before my head hits the pillow.  No more big blockbuster action movies, or even feel-good comedies.  Time to buckle down and get serious.  It happens every fall.

 

So consider yourself warned folks.  Fall is upon us and I get made fun of for it every year.  Sad depressing multi-media Eric is coming back for another season.  Deal with it.

Night all, I’m leaving to go and find a movie to watch on Netflix,

 

Probably something foreign,

 

with subtitles even.

 

Here, let’s get this season started.

Take it away boys…

 

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