Seriously though...

I've got no game plan. It's all freakin' crazy, you know? I get out of bed each day and I always marvel that this shit keeps going on for me: life. I say shit but I mean it in the best possible way.

I had a strange Mother's Day. Don't worry, I took care of my ma; you better have, yourselves. Anyway, today was like I was on ludes. I laid in my bed at night without so much as a wink and had a hair brained idea floating in my head to re-wire one of my electric guitars. So, here I am at 5:30 AM getting out the soldering station and working out the ideas I had rumbling in my head. I burnt myself pretty bad, due to being a tad sleep deprived. My finger hurts pretty bad still because of it. Well, the wiring job worked out perfect and I have much better "Q" control over the signal.

I know you don't come here to hear me spout off about "Q" sweep and that crap. There's a point to all of this I'm sure. You trust me, well don't you? Okay, good, we got that all sorted then. After I got done with that I got myself ready to take care of some business at a meeting. Yeah, on Mother's Day. I spent an hour after that driving in an ever increasing state of zonk. I thought of Full Throttle. I thought of Mountain Dew MDX. No, uh-uh, I passed on all that crap and went straight to my bed just before noon.

I sometimes sleep with one of my guitars, pen and notebook, if it is a nap. This way I can bang out something that comes to me in the creative, yet elusive, half-waking hall of the subconscious/conscious ballet. Some of the ideas that I write are genius. Other ideas, well, are pretty darn hilarious and not a lick of genius to burden them from making a shit taco of laughter. Yeah, that's the first time you've heard that phrase and it is phrases like that that come to me at times of in and out--oh, not sex you sillies!

I had a Bert Jansch album "The Black Swan" on repeat during this five-hour session of "slupor". (I'm full of new words right now.) It was really cool because while that album was playing I transposed Smiths songs over them, all while dreaming about uncertain hopes coming to fruition, losing/gaining them, and then moving on to pure fantasy. Somewhere in all this REM ga-ga, I came up with an idea to build a tool that will help me finish fixing Clyde (my truck).

Why I am not super rich is anybody's guess. I can't blame my Mother's side of the family for that--it's Mother's day, fer cryin' out loud. I think I didn't drink enough carrot juice as a kid, or maybe it was too much...who knows. If I take a cue from President Clinton and play "The Definition Game" then I am super rich already. My brain hasn't yet been sold by the pound (Genesis, thank you). I figure when I stop enjoying it so selfishly that I just may find myself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife, behind the wheel of a large automobile (thanks, Talking Heads). Unless I fall into a domestic "tiger trap", I can't see that happening real soon. However, I have seen cracks appearing in my bachelorhood.

Seriously though, this is what I get for having no game plan and I am having fun, for a change.