Almost 11 AM means it is afternoon in my other home. I am on deadline for work but need to grab five minutes to clear my head because the write words aren’t flowing from my fingers and I hate what I see on the screen.
Don Henley is singing about The Boys of Summer and I have my usual reaction of feeling like I was stabbed in the gut, that song just touches something inside.
Staring at the photo above I think about a conversation I had with a guy back in Texas about how we missed the beach. Haven’t been down to the water since I got back but I think this weekend or maybe sometime this week I’ll head down to Santa Monica. Got to sit on the sand and listen to the surf, always helps to center me.
Writing For People
Keep seeing more clips, tweets and comments from people asking me to like, share and follow them. I rarely do as they ask, got no time to speak of and unless you really capture my attention I am not going to sign up for another newsletter.
Part of me feels like a hypocrite because I am running on that hamster wheel with so many others. Running along, shouting, screaming, laughing and begging you to show your love for me by signing up for my stuff.
Follow me. Love Me. Read Me.
Add to my numbers. Help me get noticed. Be the magic one I have been searching for who offers me a book deal or some magic opportunity that so many bloggers dream about.
And in the midst of reading it all I ask myself if I am writing for people because sometimes I read your stuff and roll my eyes because you are producing crap.
You are entitled to produce it but the problem isn’t with your output but that I am reading it. I am more upset with myself than I am with you because I am not obligated to spend my time reading your stuff and thus I point, click and surf my way elsewhere.
Tunnel Of Love
Time is almost up and the real beckons again. I move from Don Henley to Springsteen. Think about the Boss and debate between rolling with Happy and settle for Tunnel of Love.
Both songs make me do a happy dance but Tunnel of Love is the one that is most appropriate for the moment. Hard to believe it is a quarter century since this album came out. Hard to believe that Young Jack Steiner Â used to listen to this and pretend he understood it because the current version of me is certain IÂ get it now.
Part of me cringes about how obnoxious that sounds and part of me isn’t surprised because that young guy was most certainly a kid and now it is safe to say people call me a man.
My old man and I had another discussion about inconsequential things and he rolled his eyes at me and asked me why I would respond as I did to something.
And as I looked in the steely blue eyes I remembered how I used to hate being called to question by him and recognized that I still don’t particularly like it. Made me snort out loud and he asked me what was funny.
“Well dad, once upon a time I hated being questioned by you about why I did things but now it is different.”
His eyes narrowed and he growled something at me that I didn’t quite catch.
“I probably listen more to you now than I did then because I don’t have anything t0 prove anymore. You do your things your way and I do mine. Nothing wrong with that.”
Somehow his eyes narrow some more so I glare back at him, moment passes and he laughs.
“Better go work on that rookie.”
I laugh too and then head out. Deadlines call and I have to answer.
Write for people and not for numbers.