Better late than............

Okay, admit it; you thought, Aha, he missed one.  Already he's slacking off only 10 days into the year and he can't come up with a blog post.  Well sir, you've every right to jump to that conclusion, but this time your wrong.  I was on call last night and when I have a call day during the week I don't take my computer to the frat house with me and blogging from my phone is too arduous a task.  I'm late to the page today for sure; 13 hours or so to be inexact, but here never-the-less.
My dad was a writer wanna be like me or is it me being like him, which ever,  He  only left behind those scraps of writing that he transferred from his head to paper.  Too bad, 'cause I believe he had plenty of good things to convey.  I'm not so egotistical to think my writings, left to posterity, will amount to anything but I don't want my children or grand children to come looking for what dad or grandpa had to say about this and that and come up empty handed.  I'm egotistical but not that egotistical.

Whether it's worth reading or not I've promised myself to come here and write something everyday.  I'll fail, it's the way of things, but I'll do better than last year 'cause this year I'm willing to write drivel and be done with it.

Good writers, (good meaning published, I earn a living from putting words out there for others to spend time looking at, good) write drivel.  How do I know?  Well I take their word for it.  That's the kind of guy I am;  I'll believe you 'til I catch you in a lie.  Then  I'll never believe you again, or almost never.  The point?  Good writers tell you that they write shit but they never show you, or if they do, not often enough for me to have seen any of it_--------- _ tired of reading this yet?

10 days into the first month of the new year and I can say I'm so far totally unimpressed with my new desk calendar; The calendar of AWESOME.
Tomorrow's awesomeness reads: "Wearing the shoes you just bought out of the store
Sometimes those old ratty sandals need to get buried.  When sidewalk steps rattle your spine and walking to the store gives you severe Blackfoot, it's time to go shopping.
Next time you slide on that fresh new pair in the store, just pause for a second and look wistfully at the broken, smooth-soled flat ones in your hand.  So many rainy nights, so many deck parties, so many trips for gas.
Fight tears and steady your lip as you stare the teenage cashier square in the eye and say:
"Do you guys have a garbage can?"
AWESOME!"
Come on, are you kidding me? Awesome? I don't think so.  On the other hand:  If this shit can get published then maybe there's hope for me.... Yeah, Fuck Yeah!!!!!!

By-the-way:  old worn out shoes, what else spells comfort like old worn out shoes?

CU2morrow. GWATCDR.