Dear Lord I sincerely hope you're coming 'cuz you really started something.
This seems as fitting a launch subject as any with which to kick off my new blog. My tortured psyche can not contain the incongruity of it all...vivid memories of driving the 100 or so miles from UC Santa Barbara south to Santa Monica to see Elvis Costello at age 19(ish), and today, at 49(ish), snoozing through the Lexus commercials that he and his (new) wife crank out. That alone tilts my little inner world on its axis.
But why stop there? Almost everything tilts my axis lately, and since I have strategically structured my hermetically sealed outer life to never compete with my rich, vibrant, and ever-vibrating inner life...I have no one to talk to about the many things that amuse and bemuse me. Except for the cats, of course, but they are heavy into power napping these days and I can only rouse them so many times before affecting their health. I have no e-friends in my current inner circle who have half the tolerance for, nay, love of, long email dissertations and free associating missives that I am constantly composing between my pointy ears and the enveloping silver folds of my beloved MacBook Pro. I no longer write a bi-weekly wine column for a little mountain town newspaper. (You can enjoy all of my columns archived here!) I hang out on no message boards. (I lurk.) I need to write. I love to write. I live to write. I shall write. I thank you in advance for reading.
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