Patience, grasshopper
So I'm still getting back to normal life. Took the weekend to unpack, unwrap, and unwind from almost three months on the road. I realize that this isn't a story from my karaoke travels, and for that I apologize, but it's my birthday (inquire for mailing address) and after a few beers I realized "damn, I better to put something on this thing to keep my one reader interested."
[he sat for a moment in silence and tried to think of something interesting to say before realizing...]
What the hell? If you've come to read this of your own volition, as opposed to being forced to read the long-winded mass emails I normally send, you must have some interest in the goings-on of my life, even if only normal life
(you care. you really care!)
But even my normal life is hard to define, and I feel like a new plot is developing where my normal life of being on the road for the past few months is about to have a major change. Yes, my friends, I actually have to go back to work.
(pause for unsympathetic booing and dodging of rotten fruit and vegetables)
Between projects for the folks, both of physical labor and the mental requirements, I also have the impeding "REWRITE" of The Imaginings. And not long after, probably back to swinging a hammer for a living until the book is sold (knock, knock, knock).
Too long already to be discussing my everyday affairs? I recognize that I'm no Seinfeld and realize that it's probably not in my best interests to be rambling for pages "about nothing."
But I will say that the most intriguing birthday gift I was given was the reintroduction into my life of a girl-now-woman from my past. In order to protect the innocent (at least for now) I'll refrain from using any names, but I will say that she's a big fan of Gillian Welch and even gave me one of her CD's. A couple friends of mine from Montana had previously recommended Gillian, saying that much of her music was the female answer to many male country songs, in that her females win out in the end. Now you all know what a big fan I am of Willie Nelson's "Red Headed Stranger" album, so I was certainly curious. And what I will say so far is that I feel similar to Gillian as I do to the unnamed woman. So far, pretty damned good, and I look forward to discovering more.
But I am a man, of course. And so I'll wrap up with a little Johnny Cash, the Man in Black who died on my 30th birthday, one year ago today.
"Delia, oh Delia,
Delia all my life.
If I hadn't have shot poor Delia,
I'd have taken her for my wife.
Delia's gone,
one more round,
Delia's gone."
[he sat for a moment in silence and tried to think of something interesting to say before realizing...]
What the hell? If you've come to read this of your own volition, as opposed to being forced to read the long-winded mass emails I normally send, you must have some interest in the goings-on of my life, even if only normal life
(you care. you really care!)
But even my normal life is hard to define, and I feel like a new plot is developing where my normal life of being on the road for the past few months is about to have a major change. Yes, my friends, I actually have to go back to work.
(pause for unsympathetic booing and dodging of rotten fruit and vegetables)
Between projects for the folks, both of physical labor and the mental requirements, I also have the impeding "REWRITE" of The Imaginings. And not long after, probably back to swinging a hammer for a living until the book is sold (knock, knock, knock).
Too long already to be discussing my everyday affairs? I recognize that I'm no Seinfeld and realize that it's probably not in my best interests to be rambling for pages "about nothing."
But I will say that the most intriguing birthday gift I was given was the reintroduction into my life of a girl-now-woman from my past. In order to protect the innocent (at least for now) I'll refrain from using any names, but I will say that she's a big fan of Gillian Welch and even gave me one of her CD's. A couple friends of mine from Montana had previously recommended Gillian, saying that much of her music was the female answer to many male country songs, in that her females win out in the end. Now you all know what a big fan I am of Willie Nelson's "Red Headed Stranger" album, so I was certainly curious. And what I will say so far is that I feel similar to Gillian as I do to the unnamed woman. So far, pretty damned good, and I look forward to discovering more.
But I am a man, of course. And so I'll wrap up with a little Johnny Cash, the Man in Black who died on my 30th birthday, one year ago today.
"Delia, oh Delia,
Delia all my life.
If I hadn't have shot poor Delia,
I'd have taken her for my wife.
Delia's gone,
one more round,
Delia's gone."
posted by A Man without a Band at 11:30 PM
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