. . . I'm listening to Willie Nelson alone at 1 in the morning with a vodka and diet Pepsi, and it feels pretty good. There's something about Willie's guitar and voice, along with his sister Bobby on Piano and Mickey Rafael, or whatever his name is, on harmonica. To me, Mickey is the bomb harmonica guy. Give me him over that high pitched craziness of John Popper any day.
ANYWAY, I feel like I deserve a little celebration because I wrote some decent scenes for the play I'm determined to finish. It's starting to take shape.
Now I have The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust by bowie playing, all vinyl, of course. Drunken listening parties are not at all fun unless you have actual records. I just can't describe why; It's just a more of visceral experience, somehow. In my younger, crazier days, I'd wake up the next day to see records sprawled out all over the room after a night out at the bars and think, "Wow. That's right, I did have myself a listening party last night. I have problems." Then my next thought would be, "Oooh. Good choices on those records! Even in my drunken state. All right, Ken!"
ANYWAY, I was talking with people tonight at a bar that I'm a writer. I'm not what I do to pay my bills. No. I write. When I'm getting on a role, it's a high, and I need to remember that every time I push off committing myself to big projects. It's so easy to say that it's not practical or realistic. No, it's neither of those, but it's something that I need to do whether I'm a success or not. It's who I am, and I feel better when I do it, so fuck it. This thing is going to hit the stage, probably in May, and I'd love it if you were there, Seven Readers. If not, oh well. As long as I'm proud of what I've created, I can literally have seven people out there and feel good about what I've done.
It's been too long since I had me a listening party, and I'm glad I could share it with you, My Beloved Seven Readers. Try it some time, and remember not to be too neat and tidy about it. Let those big ass records spread out across the room, listening to only a track or two off each one. Make it decadent. Make it Gancey.
1 comment:
Wow. It's no wonder I was getting dumped the next day with the mood I was in this night. You never know it's coming even when things are at your lowest - it's still a shock.
Listening parties from here on will be more fun, organized, and with less cocktails.
: )
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