An Introduction: Beers, Books, Blogs, Something...
Almost 43 and Taking stock in the Mecca Cafe in Seattle. Where else? A church? A cemetery? A cave deep in the mountains? The bartender going off duty says to the woman coming on, "There's no PBR in the house anywhere so you'll have to make due." This is a good thing for I'm not in high school anymore. I can afford a decent beer, and the beer of choice these days is Blue Moon. It was Guinness at one point, Killians Irish Red at another, then Men's Room Original Red. One of my absolute favorites is Silver City's Ridgetop Red (Yes, I like the reds), but few bars have that so it's Blue Moon. It's around. They even have it back in Columbus, Ohio where I went to high school and college and for one of my book signing events last fall, but more on the book and the writing in a moment.
The bartender going off duty grabs the fiver I placed on the bar for him, "Thanks, man." I nod silently as he counts his cash and goes over his receipts. He's good, always quick to notice when I'm empty. The first time I met him, he noticed me clickity clicking away on the laptop. He asked of what I was writing. I answered truthfully, "Finishing up my book." I had just got a deal back then and was going through the last edits so we got to talking about writing and authors, and he quoted me something from Truman Capote which I will slaughter here, "All I need is a bottle and a typewriter and I'm happy." Or some such.
I don't know if Truman ever said that, and a quick Google search yielded nothing meaningful, but it doesn't matter for I like the idea. Life can be very simple if we let it be so, and my needs aren't great. That's why I'm here tonight. As I said, I'm taking stock. So here goes.
Achievements of the past two years include a significant amount of writing.
There's a novel: Horse Bite | Amazon | Barnes & Noble
And there's a blog: davemusic.net
And there's some music writing: Seattle Subsonic/author/davemusic
A short story published: Condoms on Christmas.
It's been a mass of writing for sure, more than any sane person perhaps, but then, who wants to be sane? A little crazy is good so I'll let others worry about my sanity if they care to. And the thing is, here we go again, a new blog on this tumblr thingy, another collection of writings forming into … the next book or the next story or who knows what. The thing is to get it down, and to keep getting it down, to never fear putting a voice out into the world, and well, past accomplishments aside, the only thing that matters is what I'm doing now, note by note when playing music, otherwise, word by word by drink, a mass of … something, of everything in me.
And for now, in this moment, that means enjoying a Blue Moon at the Mecca Cafe and, as ever, working with the Word. It's one of only three things I want to do. We'll get to the others in the coming days and months, but for this evening (and so many others), it's only the writing that counts.
The bartender going off duty sits next to me, orders a post-shift drink, a vodka soda, no fruit. He has long hair like I once did, a gruff, unshaven look like I so often do as I'm too lazy to bother about shaving. "Cheers, man," he says. We drink. "Whatcha writing now?" In addition to his skills tending bar, he's a good sort. He's read my book and much of the old blog. He's always curious about my current writing and musical projects, but there's only one answer to his question.
"Only one way to find out."
