24 May 98: Welcome to the inaugural posting of Yamaya! No mission statement, lofty goals or anything like that, just a beginning that's hopefully not also an end. Admittedly, I'm letting someone else (Gordon Lightfoot, to be exact) write most of this essay, but I was listening to my The Best of Peter, Paul and Mary/10 Years Together CD this evening and felt like posting this song. It's a favorite of mine, although I'm not sure why. I certainly don't identify with the self-centered, cruel piece of garbage who is the voice of the song; I'm not perfect, but I don't play people, either. At least, I don't think I do. (If you think I do, well, then, have the guts to tell me.) I guess I just like the way you can sing the song, by hurling contempt from the pit of you stomach, catching it in the back of your throat and then spitting it out.
That's what you get for lovin' me
I ain't the kind to hang around
So don't you shed a tear for me
Now there you go you're crying again
That's what you get for lovin' me
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