Friday, July 28, 2017


…Before going solo, Ryan Adams was in a seminal band called Whiskeytown.  This is one of my favorite songs of theirs which is very hard to find:

…Wow.  So somewhere over the evening or yesterday we passed half a million page views.  Half a million views of my silly blog...  Imagine that.
Anyway, thanks so much for stopping by here regularly.  Truly, I’m grateful.
When I started this thing, it was merely meant to be a receptacle for my writing.  Now I’m not sure what it is—part receptacle, part diary, part a place to ramble.

…So some early morning rambling then, shall we?

…Is it possible to love someone and despise them at the same time?  Just something I’ve been pondering.

…Also, I wonder why my thoughts always go to the dark corners.  There are plenty of good things to think about, appreciate and notice.  Maybe I’m depressed.  Maybe I’ve been depressed since I was a child.

…Every time I write a story or poem I also veer to a dark ending, even when I start it and don’t know where I’m going.
Like I had the thought for a very short piece about someone who has died but their Facebook page is still up and so people write on it and I came up with this:

I know you are gone, but I’m writing on your Facebook page anyway, since no one’s bothered to take it down.  It’s a shame you’re not here.  Every coffin maker thinks so but not all the young girls you would have raped and killed if you were still alive.


…Last week I was happy for a few days.  Really very happy.  Now that felt good.  I was with my best friend and hanging with him always makes life a lot better, even those parts that become a blur late at night.  The problem is he lives three and a half hours away.  The problem is he has a demanding job.

…I don’t have a friend in my own town.  For a stretch of time, my wife set me up on blind dates with different husbands of her friends.  It didn’t go so well.  My wife’s friends are lovely women but most of their husbands, well, I have not a single thing in common with them other than our gender.

…Back to my best friend who makes me happy and always makes me laugh and gets me completely (we have our own language)…
While I was there I told him something I’ve never told anyone.  I don’t know why I did or what thought precipitated my confession.
Anyway, I think I’ll tell you. 
Here goes.
When I was around 12 years old, I went on a March of Dimes Walkathon.  The idea behind the walkathon was obviously to raise money for kids in need.  I raised $62 and some change.  To me, back then, $62 was a fortune.
Now here’s the tough part… Ready?
I kept the money.  Yep.  Spent it.  I don’t know on what and I don’t recall feeling guilty, but I sure feel guilty now.
Maybe that’s why I’m a big tipper and very charitable.
Maybe my bones are filled with guilt and that’s why I’m depressed.

…Another time, four years ago I took 1st place in a short story contest.  I've won a few writing contests, but this one was a very big deal because they received hundreds of entries and you won $700 and some other perks.  I was honestly pretty floored to win and I even forgot I'd entered or which story I'd sent in.
So I was stunned and giddy.
That lasted all of three days.
Then, for some unknown reason, I felt very sad.  The blues swept right in and I hadn’t even cashed the check.
What does that tell you about me?  No really, please tell me because I wanna know.

…I’m not depressed all the time.  It’s just a bluesy few days, usually when I’m in a writing slump, which is always a trigger.  This afternoon I’m going to do something really fun (I’m not sure what that is yet, but it will be fun for sure) and then that’ll springboard me into sustained glee.  Just watch.

…Aren’t you glad you stopped by?  I hope I didn’t depress you.  Or scare you.  Or make you worry.
I’m fine.  I’ve heard confession is good for the soul.



No comments:

Post a Comment