DOWN HOME IN THE VALLEY OF THE BEAST

I still have the trip to speak of. Still have the flat tire that occurred in South Dakota to speak of. Still have everything that came between me leaving New York City and arriving in Seattle to talk about. To whom? I don't know. But many spend many hours talking to some Jew Therapist for the same amount of satisfaction I get from typing. What is the driving thought that gets us through? I don't know anymore. But I know my stories click. And I know that I find some type of solace in telling them. So here we are. I live on a boat. Looked at every writers cliche before I found the ultimate. At first I was going to rent a house on the lake. Too obvious. Then I was going to rent a cabin in the woods. Been there, done that. So I found a boat. A big boat. Well at least big enough to me. And I sit at this table, with a table lamp supplying me with illumination, and I think about all of the stories that I have, And I think that I don't want to stop. And I think I can go on forever telling these here stories. And I keep finding more. And that is the magic of it. And that is the saving grace that keeps me grounded. Let's keep going. Lets see where we get.