As I Write

As I sit perched on this stool scribbling words into the ether I am simultaneously listening to Sunday morning blues on WZLX.

Thanks to my brother Ed.

He has been prodding me, literally for years, to check this out. Kept telling me how good it is.

I procrastinate.

In fact, as I keep taking a hard look at myself in 2015, I have realized procrastination is quite possibly my worst vice.

And that is saying a lot.

I think I have noticed this in the past, but I put off doing anything about it.

This morning as I went into the fridge to grab a hold of some heavy whipping cream to spike my coffee with, I noticed that I did not date last night's leftovers. (Steak tips, baby - barbecued beautifully).

I package up leftovers in containers and slap a piece of masking tap across the lid with the date of said dinner. That way I can track their provenance and either dump them when they have passed the expiration date, or freeze them for future deliciosity.

By the way the masking tape thing reminds me of my father, but I am not entirely sure why.

I saw the unmarked container and thought to myself I better remember to mark it up it later. THEN I said NO - do it now. Even before consuming my precious coffee.

I am exceptionally proud of my unbridled initiative.

This listening and writing thing is a fascinating experiment. Typically I cannot write with anything distracting me at all.

I have tried in the past and failed miserably.

This morning is different. This morning it's the blues.

I live for the blues. I love music but I idolize the blues. Gotta have it. It is part of my DNA, it is tightly woven into who I am.

I am sitting here typing with very little effort (which is probably why I am not rich and successful) as the music floats in through me and back out again.

The writing is natural. The blues is natural.

Christ this feels good.

It is entirely possible that had I listened more attentively to my brother's words over the years I could be much further along on the scale of personal evolution than I am.

He is indeed wise.

I take a great deal of comfort in knowing that it is not too late.

(Editor's note: Jesus Christ, man - this is damn delicious. Song came on as I wrote - voice sounded familiar but I didn't focus on it too severely because my fingers are flying. Got to a guitar break in the song - slide guitar - and suddenly my brain said "That has got to be Derek Trucks." It was. The song was by the Tedeschi Trucks Band. The singer was Susan Tedeschi, Derek's wife. A few minutes later they played a song by Joe Bonamassa. My soul is flying even as my brain is frying.)