We’re going to try something new here.
It’s 10:40 PM here on the outskirts of San Diego. I’m gonna give myself five minutes, the ol’ egg timer of sorts, and just write. Write stuff. I’ve been in a content-generation funk as of late, my desire to blog lost all its steam in about 2006, after a five-year run of near-daily entries, and my command of the English word has gone limp as a result.
The ol’ bugger needs exercise. And, perhaps, this may be a venue of small-enough gravity that Good Things will be allowed to happen.
And so, with that, we have today. There is little that is more surreal than being holed up in a conference center “business center”, a small closet-sized room nestled snugly between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, making copies of materials for a workshop that kicks off the following day, while the space you know you will occupy on the morrow is raging all around you in a orgy of colored lights and young people dropping expensive glasses and falling to the floor in a drunken stupor.
This, my friends, is Southern California. Or, more accurately, Legoland. Apparently, according to the placard at the entry to the venue, there was Donation Goal, represented in a thermometer (always), which had been Reached, and thus there was a Party. And it was while this party raged all around me that I made photocopies to the thumping beats of Lady Gaga.
Which, I might add, I am surprisingly okay with. I am an expert, of sorts, on Top 20 U.S. Pop Music from the Summer of 2010. What I possess is naturally a very precise connoisseurship, but one that has its own rewards not only in games of Taboo, but in shocking the hell out of people who think they have exhausted the boundaries of my interests.
That there was ten minutes, but regardless, we’re going to call it good. For better or worse, hitting publish is its own reward.
Ever forward, my friends. Create and don’t look back.
