Gary ~ May 12

 

What's Next?

 

OK, so I banged out another 700 worder this morning and was hoping to be the first one to submit a piece this Sunday the 12th of May, but upon further review, I decided to scrap that piece and  go in a different direction.

 

So what now?  What next? Who knows?  Let's just start typing and see what comes out.

 

Why do I always have to be first to submit a piece for the MM blog?  What the hell is that all about anyway?  And what happens when I fly out to Denver early Wednesday morning and Woodstock Car Service is coming to pick me up at 5:30 in the morning, so in order to be first on Wednesday I'll have to get up at 3am again, as I have been doing lately and hammer out another piece and get it in before the guy arrives to whisk me off to Albany International Airport.

 

And what happens when I get out to Denver and settle in at the Colorado Chatauqua in Boulder CO where it's two hours earlier than it is here in New York.  Will I still be able to be the first to make it to the MM blog?  If I get up at 5am it'll be 7am in New York, so I can't risk it.  I'll have to stick to my 3am wake up regimen if I want to be the first one to post to the blog.

 

And is anybody reading this stuff anyway?  Marta has no choice, she has to read the stuff.  That's part of her job, but the other guys don't have to even look at it if they don't want to.  So far, I've gotten a few favorable comments but nothing like last time (March Madness or Mayhem, I forget what it was called) where I became sort of a rock star, if that's not too big of a stretch.

 

Well, in pondering the current paucity  of comments on my posts this time,  compared to the last 30 day writing marathon we did in May, I came to a sudden realization.  And that is, I don't really care (that much) if folks read my stuff and comment on them or not. I just like WRITING, plain and simple, and it's not about who reads it or who likes it or whatever.  It's about the CREATIVE PROCESS itself.  

 

Sure it's great to read comments like: "Great!", "Amazing!",  "You're almost as good as Jack Kerouac!" and things like that, I can't deny it.  And yet, if people were allowed to write things like:

"This really sucks", "Who wants to hear your bullshit anyway?", "You are not even worthy to touch the hem of Jack Kerouac's ragged bluejeans" and things like that, would I really give a shit?

 

At this point in my life and spiritual evolution I really don't think it would bother me at all, although I am not absolutely certain of that.  It's just my hunch.  In fact, I think I'd be amused.

 

It's just like my radio show, the Doo Wop Shop that I do every Sunday at 2pm-4pm on station WIOXFM in Roxbury NY where I happen to be moving to when I return from my 5 day sojourn in Boulder CO where I am going to meet up with some spiritual friends for something hopefully not too spiritual, since I am in the mood to take a break from spirituality for awhile and focus on some other matters.

 

So as I was saying, it's just like my radio show where I'm doing my doo-wop DJ thing, mostly for the sheer joy of it, and who knows how many people are actually listening.  My wife usually listens, and my friend Geo from the Philadelphia area always listens, and someone told me yesterday that she would surely tune in today to catch my show, but other than that, who knows?

 

I do get an email every now and then from people in various parts of the country saying how much they really love....OK, like....my show and they often put in a request or two for a doo wop oldie but goodie that they have loved since their high school days, so I know I have a few listeners out there at least.

 

But it's just like the writing thing. Yes, it would be great to be rich and famous and a rock star and have adoring fans, and people trying to borrow money from me or who try to get me involved in some business or investment scheme. Of course.  Who wouldn't want that?

 

But I am not going to hold my breath waiting for that to happen.  No way.  I'm just gonna keep banging out my 700 (I think today I might go over 800) worders and let the chips fall where they may.  And if nobody wants to read or comment on rantings and ravings, well who can blame them?

 

Certainly not me.