Nutty times, these. I am letting Rock Circus drive me nuts, and in the crescendo of my dismay, I am unable to find redemption in pursuits that once were my raison d’etre. If I work on my tomorrow I must neglect my today. Without devotion to today, I forfeit my tomorrow.
To escape the crescendo I wallow in solitude and silence.
This weekend I am committed to finishing a simple article about a fellow I gained tremendous respect for when I interviewed him for an article in a business monthly. I respect anyone who can hold a job more than five years. I should be working on a book for a national publisher this weekend instead of working at Rock Circus. When I return home from this charade of propriety, all I will desire is sleep, and not because I’m tired.
I should be working on the book I’m co-authoring for a national publisher, but the easier option is to continue with a magazine indexing project for AeroKnow because it needs to be done sooner than later. I don’t even like doing the indexing because it’s tedious work toward an end that is not in sight. Will it matter — when I post the completed project in a month if I’m lucky — that a review of the Choroszy model company’s 1/72 kit of the Focke-Achgelis Fa-223 appeared in the December 1998 issue of Scale Aviation Modeller (Don’t finger me; that’s how they spell “modeler” in England and that’s where it’s published) and that it has color pictures of the details of the airplane and a five-view drawing with cross section templates? Today, it matters to me, more than anything else on my mind, that aviation enthusiasts will learn this when I upload the index. And in the interest of not despising the countenance in my mirror when I trim my beard tomorrow, in the interest of self-respect, I will work on the index because the sooner it is done, the sooner I will devote more-focused attention on the book. After I index probably five magazines on arrival home, I will spend some time with the business monthly article. I’ll finish the article Sunday and send it to the editor becore sundown. THAT is a piece of cake really, a task I would enjoy more if I were done with the indexing. The easiest activity in my life is journalism.
So I won’t attend the art gallery receptions tonight, with or without my camera. I have “planted” far more lofty expectations there than I have been able to nurture to happy harvest. The best I can do is say no more than that. There’s no gain from ranting a litany of regrets. Better to stay a neutral stranger than a disappointment in the eyes of people who barely know me. Another thing I won’t do is drink myself to an un-natural nap with my friend Carlo Rossi. In the final analysis, no matter how much I desire escape in sleep, the only way out of the valley is by spending more time conscious and productive. There’s no alcohol in the house, and thing will remain that way for another two and a half days until Tuesday.
I have to come back to work on Tuesday.
Maybe I’ll just buy more ice cream bars instead of another gallon of Burgundy. Better to be reallyreally overweight and lucid than under the influence of Rossi and almost as overweight.
Live long . . . . . . and proper.