Hello friends, stalkers, and people that subscribed to this Blog/Newsletter by accident.
I went quiet for most of March, mostly because I was busy with work, and also I was not in a particularly great headspace. When I know that the post is going to be just a huge bummer, I tend to hold off. I don’t want to bring anyone down, fish for pity, or promote negativity. These times are hard enough. You probably don’t need me to tell you how bad things are. (But if you do want me to talk to you about the state of the world, let me know and we can have a personalized rant and/or discussion.)
That being said, I have an idea for a post I’ve been sitting on which might be a little bit sad. It’s a lament for friends lost, as it were. Sort of a way for me to honor some of the people I still think about that are no longer in my life. That post is coming, when I have the time and mental space to write such a thing.
On the writing front, I’ve stalled out on the next Mel Walker story again. I made some progress in March, but drafting for me lately has been like performing surgery on myself, without anesthesia. Painful, difficult, a bad idea, and almost certainly unhealthy.
I’m writing this, though, which is easy and breezy, while also a way for me to avoid going down and into the throng of people inhabiting Las Vegas.
Why am I in Vegas? Trimark just turned 25, and the owner, Mark Morosky, has paid for all of Trimark to come to this city of sin for a big celebration. Melissa and I will be here tonight and tomorrow night, with our only mandatory obligation being a party from 6PM to 11PM tomorrow night. That means we have a lot of time to run around and play.
Did I mention that neither Melissa nor I gamble much? We’ll host poker parties at our house from time to time, but actual gambling doesn’t appeal to either of us.
There are other things to do here, of course. Shows, mini-golf, an aquarium, Cirque de Solei, which I already mentioned because that’s a show… there’s plenty of mischief we can get up to.
The truth is, I’m a little bit tired from the drive, which lowers my desire to breathe the same air as a city of half-drunk strangers. We got up at 5AM and drove from Sacramento to Las Vegas. There was quite a bit of traffic, but the worst part is that the check engine light came on after we’d already driven about four hours. We stopped in Delano and a very friendly mechanic determined that it was my fuel sensor, and had us patched up and back on the road within an hour. The repair experience couldn’t have been better, but the stress of the car trouble itself was not something I had on my wish list.
I’m fine, though. Melissa is fine. The U.S. is getting destroyed in an extremely predictable way, in that I and others predicted that this would happen, but The Buhls are fine. I alternate between rage and sorrow as I read the news, but I haven’t done anything stupid yet.
Stay safe out there. Support each other. Love each other. It sounds cliche, but it’s true that the only way we’re going to get through this is together.