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Sinead O'Connor will retire in July. According to O'Conner's public statement, she would like to be left "in peace and privacy."

She has thanked her fans for "a great time and a great education."

Maybe this is a stupid question, but am I the only person who didn't realize that the ripper was still an active celebrity? I know I have problems remembering who's dead and who's alive, but I'm usually pretty good at knowing who's doing stuff and who has faded into the woodwork.

I do, after all, have a subscription to People. But don't worry...I don't get it for the articles - I just look at the pictures.

A friend thought Charleton Heston was dead. He was pretty sure, in fact. But I got that one right. I knew Charlton Heston wasn't dead. He may be a lot of things, but he's not dead.

So, Sinead is retiring.

I don't believe her.

Or, shall I say, am I supposed to believe her?

What does she mean? Is she never going to sing again? Never write a song? Never perform? No spontaneous crooning one night when she's in a friendly pub with some mates? No picking the strings while raising a pint o' Guinness?

If it were Celine or Babs or Whitney, I'd say it was a publicity thing. In Whitey's case, maybe just a cover for jail or rehab. Not a real retirement. Kind of like cher's ten-year goodbye tour. Which, I'm sure, will be followed by a couple of specials and then a documentary chronicling her active retirement.

But as for the little bald girl - who may or may not be bald as of this writing - I'm guessing it's just more of her inability to restrain her mouth. I mean, after you've dissed the Pope on national television, it is kind of hard to follow up with anything equally compelling. I'm thinking she's in a fed up place and instead of just laying low, she has to officially announce her fed-up-ness.

Well, if that's the new approach, then I'm announcing my retirement today.

I too am fed up. And tired. Not sick, just tired.

I don't want to retire permanently. I just want to take a little time off. A sabbatical. From life.

For a while there, I was completely distracted by the changes in my life. I was pretty much overwhelmed by the not-so-simple task of getting used to the absence of what I knew.

But, indeed, the changes are gradually becoming the norm.

What I knew is becoming the distant past. And what's new is becoming what I know.

Don't get me wrong. It really is neat. And it really is good. And I really do like it.

But it's just a little too much all at once.

As I've gotten more comfortable with my discomfort, I've been able to rekindle my awareness of the world around me. And I've discovered that there's currently a lot of chaos.

Couldn't everyone have just chilled out while I was busy being completely self-absorbed? It really would have been nice if my reentry had been welcomed with calm and quiet and nothing more than sweet coffee enjoyed under the cool, clear spring sky.

Instead, things are crazy. And busy. And everyone's doing things. And everyone's going through things.

In my old world, I could have accommodated the needs of those around me. When your schedule, routine and emotions are firmly in place, dealing with the rollercoasters of other people's lives isn't all that difficult.

But as much as I'm getting to know and like my new world, it's still very much a topsy turvy place. It hasn't settled in. Not into routine. Not into familiarity.

And so I'm just winging it. Trying to be there. Trying to be helpful. Trying to provide support.

I've currently earned some hits. And created some misses. The hits are always good. But it's the misses that bug you when you're feeling generally disconcerted.

And my left brain says it's okay. That those in my world can withstand the blips. That a history of being there in a sincere and rich way allows for times when the fabric's stretched just a little thin.

But my right brain just wants a time out. An official "retirement" during which I'm just unavailable.

Because while one day we'll still remember Cher's goodbye tour and Celine's return to the stage in Vegas, we won't remember what they were doing - and not doing - while in seclusion.

 


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