"Be content with your life, it may not get any better". These perceptive words from Johnny Dowd is taken from his song "Thanksgiving Day" from the debut album "Wrong Side of Memphis". The man was born in 1948, so I think he knows what he's talking about. "Be content with your life, it may not get any better". At last, an attitude to life that I can live by. I find these lines very comforting, since peer and social pressure imply the reverse. There's always some improvements to be made in your working life, some fine-tune calibrating to adjust in your private life, some new training methods to explore or some personal projects to begin with in order to fulfill yourself as a human being. A nice feature that comes with age is that you don't worry too much about your hip factor. Don't get me wrong. Of course you should make all the necessary changes if something is major wrong in your life. But the pursuit for perfection seems to be both endless and futile. The phenomenon has been investigated by psychologists and its characterized by a person's striving for flawlessness and setting excessively high performance standards, accompanied by overly critical self-evaluations and concerns regarding others' evaluations. Obviously, now is the winter of our discontent. Personally, I feel content when connecting with artists in the genre, when I find a rare cd on internet and it makes its way over the Atlantic Ocean (always non-assured), writing a blog entry about some obscure topic and listening to music on my old high-end Linn-system. Maybe life can get better, but it can definitely get worse.