With a little help from Warren Zevon, I was able to finally express what I have been feeling about events that have been happening this past week.

First there were the bombings in London, then John Oxton taking his site offline, and then the death of Design in Flight, which I was finally going to get around to subscribing to. I know these things aren’t of the same magnitude, but they all add to a certain sense of melancholy and change that seems to be in the air right now.

I was heading home after an unusually shitty day at work yesterday (some fucker actually asked my if my parents had driven me up to college— they sure did, 15 YEARS AGO), when “Werewolves of London” came on the radio.

After that first howl, the weight seemed to be a little lighter. Before I knew it I was stopped at the gas station waiting to fill up until the song was over, howling “AHHHOOOOO, werewolves of London” at the top of my lungs, and feeling much better.

I’m no stranger to howling— my dog is half husky and we howl with her from time to time to get a good laugh. She can’t help but respond, and we can’t help but laugh at her dancing around, licking our faces, and making funny noises.

Despite the sad sound of a howl, to a dog it’s a sound of solidarity, a kind of “I’m here and I’m one of you”. Wolf packs will howl to strengthen their bonds, and neighboring packs will pick it up an howl with them. That’s how I felt yesterday, like I was howling with John Oxton and the city of London, letting them know there’s another pack close by that can relate.

Somehow it helped.
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