My In Set

9:47PM.  Ending to day: quite, calm, wined.  Sipping my Merlot.  And yes, the conclusion holds– I’m making wine this year.  And it will be Cabernet.  Rain lasted much of the day, and I had some takeout from the golf course spot up the street.  And just before getting in car with my order, I saw the most enacted of skies; rich, thick, light and romantic; orange, yellow, red, and I believe some green.  How the celestials did that, I’ll never know.  And I don’t need to.  What I saw was enough.  Part of me wanted to take a picture, but I’m a writer, I have to sprint on lines from recorded roars.

Think the writer will have one more glass of his Merlot.  Like the scenic sonar while it travels through palate’s second act.  But I’m starting to get tired.  So I’ll continue this sitting tomorrow morning.  Could I be as lucky as I was today, rising at 5-something, beginning the novel adds?  “Adds”.  Now I’m talking like a winemaker.  -4/25

4/26–  Someone I used to know, long ago, and with whom I now have nothing to do, said to me “You’re only treated how you allow yourself to be treated”.  Can’t remember the context, but now I re-evaluate the words as I get closer to 35.  And that I missed my call-in for Fall classes, yesterday, because I was with that climatically moronic group from MN, asking every annoying question we joke about, and looking for deals and discounts and more deals wherever they could.  “So if I buy a bottle [the $17 SB] is the tasting fee [$10] waived?”.  I have to ask myself, and would to have asked him.. “Is that logical to you, from a business sense, or even from the consumer standpoint?”.

Moving on from the plainness of the tasting room and its deer-in-headlight guests, I think ‘what if I don’t get classes, or didn’t in Fall’.  Firstly, that won’t happen.  But what if it did?  Why am I depended on them for my passion for teaching, Literature, students, the writing…  I don’t need them.  I do and I don’t, it’s an interesting walk.  I thought of my own lectures, how they should be my next book– not 202 pages, but something like 130-something.. or maybe even less.  Thoughts on reading.. not how to read, but ways to look for certain constituents in the prose, or poetry, that can reveal things to you as a reader…


Answers.  Paths.  Understandings, further knowledge pertaining to the pieces Author, and maybe about you as a reader.  See.. the tasting room could never gift me this, or hold something this elevated or deliciously thoughtful.  I’ve found something, in this idea.. I will take one book with me to work.. some papers to grade.. and my Traveler tablet.  I look for thoughts, reactions, discussion.. that’s me, I’m a professor.  Not a pourer.

Another cup?  Why sure.  Going to quit Starbucks and all other coffee cults like my friend Jamie.. imagine all that money for publishing.. my office.  I’m quick this morning.. not as quick as yesterday, but in the same pew for sure.

And the machine gives me some error message.. researching how to fix…

It worked!  So relieved.  Thought I was going to have to visit that bean bordello.  But no, I’m here with cup 2.  Now, I think about my run after work, up Lawndale.  And I don’t care how late I’m out from that bar jail, I’m running.

This computer, slow, disrupting the writing, my sitting, my peace in this quiet room.  I have to wait for that stupid rainbow wheel before I can write.  Unacceptable, nonliterary, death.  Enough to make me toss this thing out the window.  Anyway, need to ready for day ahead.. notebook, running gear, phone…  I have money on that gift card still so I might stop by SBUX.  But once it’s drained, I’m done.  What I’ll do.. put $5 away, in envelope everyday, in place of mocha purchase.. see how much piles.

Seeing relation between traditional publishing vs Self-publishing and institutionalized teaching vs sovereign lecturing…  Thoughts.  Situated.  I should “need” no one for what I truly want to do, or am already doing.

To the day…..