Wednesday, August 19, 2015

What seems a lifetime ago, in journalism school, they told me,"If you want to be a writer, you must give up the violin." Fifty years later, I am still conflicted. There is the writing, yes, miles of it, but I still sneak off to the local pub to do a little fiddle-playing, more specifically, a gig as lounge singer in the good ole style of Seventies Baroque Rock and Roll. I suppose I am still of two heads, left-brain and right. Left for the analytical and detailed, that is to say good writing--or just plain letting it hang out in rock'n'roll, which is probably ones true nature--anarchy and barely competent musicianship. It is also a good way of getting laid. Why does a 77-year old man go to a guitar gig at a nightclub? Well, all through my misspent youth, people called me a crafty f*cker. lol.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Today, my stomach rumbled...

Indeterminate longings. Going this way and that. The sudden great notion that no matter what you do, it's all futile. --It's only your stomach, Bunky. You are thinking with your stomach! Nevertheless, it really does seem to want a beer. lol.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

It's an old joke, but, "Where is Calpurnia?" "She's in bed with Pneumonia." ..."Why that Greek bastard!" .................. Well, it isn't all Greek to me. Been in hospital for six days. Ha. Situation almost grave...good thing for antibiotics. Now, I seem cured, but can I write? lol.