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If I had to make a living as a writer, this is one of those times I’d be starving. Those that make their living by advising wanna-be writers suggest “just write” at times like these. It usually works, especially if your goal as a writer is to um, write. Right on.

Today may be the last New England weekend “beach day” of the summer…

[Ten hours later…]

I’m back. Ten hours were consumed by not the beach, but the mundane of making pancakes, CVS shopping, grocery shopping, putting away groceries, cooking some groceries, washing dishes, napping, surfing (the dry kind), dropping Kyle off at his mom’s on first day of school eve, and finally, searching and finding a decent cigar… So, just write.

  • I miss my girlfriend and need to think about baseball, so… “Who the hell is Atchison!?” That was the exasperated text I received from her last night… Yeah, he’s a back of the bullpen guy who gave up a game-losing dinger in the 10th, but Red Sox ace Clay Buchholz lost his own game last night with an errant pickoff throw that’s still rolling in St. Pete. Still, the home team competes every night with a roster full of AAA talent and refuses to be mathematically eliminated. I hope they’re still in it on September 18th when she has 2 great tix.
  • I keep hearing the newest Celtics pickup needs a nickname. How ‘bout Shaquille “I brought my ass to camp in shape for once” O’Neil? Speaking of Celtics retreads named O’Neal, they’re paying Jermaine like $26M??? To mis-quote Pete Townshend, I don’t call that a bargain.
  • I don’t care if the damn eye of Hurricane Earl is centered over Falmouth this weekend, because I plan to be there starting Friday.
  • My cousin Jimmy “Meat” Daley throws one hell of a cookout. He worked his ass off yesterday throwing more meat at us than Ron Jeremy in his prime.  Dogs, burgers, sausage & peppers, pork loin, beef brisket… Ma’ don! Oh, and then there was that giant glass urn of Absolut sucking the life out of fresh pineapple since Wednesday. Amazing. Thanks, cuz!
  • I am so dismayed at the state of the union, I can’t even argue with my right-wing Muslim and Obama hating whack job friends on Facebook anymore. Hey, maybe they’re right. They’re not, but the American public is buying into their agenda of fear. It’s a “mosque” (ooooohhhhhhh), led by an Imam (ooooohhhhhhhh), a “radical” one at that, according to many on the fearful right, including their retread “intellectual,” Newt Gingrich. It’s the “Ground Zero” (ooooohhhhhhh) Mosque, sitting right there on the footprint of one of the fallen towers… Oh, it’s not? It’s two blocks away? How far away, exactly, does a Muslim community center need to be before it’s not disrespectful to the victims of 9/11? Wall Street, the home of thieves who are killing American people much more efficiently than 18 Muslim extremists ever could, is only 1,500 feet away… Is that cool?
  • OK, that’s depressing. Let’s get back to happy, unicorn loving Leo… I hugged my boss on Thursday before leaving work. “Work Joyce” is off till after Labor Day and I will miss her. That’s not sucking up, is it?
  • My cigar, my Maker’s and daylight are nearly gone. The mosquitoes have arrived. I need to end this mess with something positive.
  • I had lunch with my only nephew on Thursday. I’m proud of Michael and the way he’s stayed strong after losing his brother. He’s everything I admire in a young man. He’s caring, smart and funny. He’s working full time and starts college tomorrow. Please wish him luck.

Maddy just came out on the dark deck. As I typed, she reached out and touched the cigar butt, dying in an ashtray… She’s been wanting to for a couple hours…
Me: “You just had to do that, huh?”
Maddy: “I can’t help myself.”
Me: (Picking her hp for a hug and a kiss.) “Baby, I love you.

1 Comment

  1. Mary

    such a perfect day…

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