Crack Kona-caine

Snow is my crack...

Yeah, I'm Tired of Shoveling, but...

Why is it on the day you go in for a haircut your hair suddenly looks better than it ever has?

And every time you're finally motivated to leave a place, a day comes along that makes you wonder 'why would I want to live anywhere else'?

After getting pounded with almost 50 inches of snow over the past four days, the sun is out, the streets and sidewalk plowed (notice I said sidewalk - singular), and this is one of the most beautiful days ever on earth.


I got up early (for once) walked the dog to the coffeehouse, engaged in some great conversation (a good bunch of regulars today), got a box of ethel's Peanut Butter Indulgence Bars in the mail from my brother, and made it home in time to rake the snow from the edges of the roof and still feel like it is early enough to get in a good day's worth of writing.


The new screenplay (script, I go back and forth on what I like to call these things) is already at eighty pages -- fifteen of which are the ending, which gives me something to head towards.

I am aiming to have this one finished and polished in time for Nicholl, Austin, and Sundance this year.


The bag of Kona is gone, so no more coffee for me.

I had quit for over three months, but in Hawaii I let myself indulge - fell in love with the crack-Kona-caine again - so brought a bag home I let myself have.

That was a good time though. Drinking coffee again.

My money is running low again, but this time I feel less of the guilt of not having a career in something. With this script (screenplay, whatever) being number nine or ten, I feel legitimized in what I am doing.


No matter I haven't sold anything yet. The work has been put in, and when that payday does come, it will feel good.

Like the New Orleans Saints must have felt after all that hard work finally paid off with a...

Superbowl Championship!

Yes, I said it again... Stir the chili, Bump and Grind, Shake it, Yeah Baby. Show me the Monet!



Speaking of needing Monet. Anyone want to buy a Byron Birdsall original?

It's of the M/V Columbia docked at Petersburg.

Seriously. I need the money, and you'll be a hero to your grand-kids when they say:

Yeah, my grandfather got this for a song years ago. Just got appraised at 100k. He's leaving it to me, by the way. Yeah, gonna sell it, travel the world, try the local herb in as many countries as I can... Turkey? No, not there.

Google him - Byron Birdsall...

Anyway, I'm having a hell of a day!