Fisher king

My radio co-conspirator Gerry Fisher is back to blogging again and kicked off his return with a post for the ages:

We start a new year; thoughts of the death of our show are far behind us lost in the swirling waters of our wake. We're like a transatlantic liner turned ghost ship, still plying the old route, even though we've been superceded, outmoded, and unnoticed for 2 years. Not many passengers on board, and they are all hollow-eyed and wraithlike, older than Eld, fixed on the past with relentless intensity.

And yet...
The vital pulse of the music brings a flush to pallid cheeks; how can this beauty not be young forever?