Random insert

My friends,
Traditionally, I like to plan out my entries here, research my topics, seek out and paste in appropriate imagery and links so as to make my "articles" somethings I'm proud to share. Today, or tonight actually as it is currently 11:34 pm as I'm writing this. We will be completely unscripted and non-premeditated. It's a Monday night, I recently finished watching a movie called "Big Bang" with a couple of my close friends and I was doing some minor surfing before hitting the shower and going to bed. I made myself an evening cocktail combining 90 proof cherry mash whiskey and Vernor's ginger ale on ice (a drink I dedicate to my Aunt Joyce)and hopped on Facebook to check in with some friends and got the urge to put something witty or clever as a status update when I discovered, I had nothing like that available in my brain. Hm-mm.. this is a conundrum for the creative minded and a trap I'm all to familiar with. The scene sets up like this.

Me - Brain? - This is owner, I want to write something for my Facebook friends.
My Brain - Ummm, sorry but the dopamine levels available right now will not support this request.
Me - I don't care about all that! I want to write something! Make it happen!
My Brain - I'm sorry but it doesn't work tha..
Me - BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! Fine! Forget it! I'll just look around and throw down something I already wrote!! Damn - I need another drink.
My Brain - Umm.. that's really not going to he..
Me - a,a,a, shush, you had your chance!

I proceed to toss some trite drivel up in the text box, hit send, shower and hit the hay, only to watch the hands on the clock race themselves to the time when my alarm goes off because my brain became offended and decided to show me just how damn creative it could be.



So, I figured rather than go through all of that, I would sit here, finish my my cocktail and share this little story with you. I did post some lyrics I found in an old spiral notebook. They were for a song I could never get the music to synch up to.

Listen to the echo as the music ends
The stage lights slowly fade
There’s a tremor running through you soul
As you turn and walk away

3 A.M. and you’re still awake
Listen to passing cars
Lost in memories of what might have been
Hugging a beat up old guitar

Sticks now sleep on silent drums
The Earthquake bass is spider spun
Vacuum tubes now drown in dust
And Six Silver strings have gone to rust

Brothers of blood weathered every storm
Living to be up on stage
Hundreds of miles in a beat up van
Just as long as you could play

5 to 5 just to pay for gear
Sometimes straight from a gig
Heartache and sickness never got in the way
You never doubted you make it big

Sticks now sleep on silent drums
The Earthquake bass is spider spun
Vacuum tubes now drown in dust
And Six Silver strings have gone to rust

Morning finds you with a whiskey brain
Photos strewn everywhere
Memories pound on an open wound
It’s almost more than you can bear

Off to work, you pass a beat up van
Hitting the road getting outta here
Cubicle nightmare looming up ahead
Within your cell you sit and stare

So, with that said, I am off to clean up and, hopefully, sleep.
Goodnight