of perceptive deconstruction and terrestrial analytics grip my sight this day. Realizing that I am an English Professor, one independent, not needing any institution’s blessing to perpetuate my practice. All day in the tasting room, around my encouraging coworkers and people from everywhere visiting the winery, I scribbled writing exercises, prompts, thought of what one of the “managers” at the box said in ’11, pertaining not to my writing ambitions but to selling wine over the phone, when he said “You have to own it.” At first, and I still to an extent do, think it was just convenient and opportunistic emboldenment. But now I examine the principle, and see its fruit, for what I want to do. I think of one of my cousins, Dad’s side, older than me by a few months, just recently throwing out his back playing laser tag with his kids or something, then tonight saying how he hasn’t released anything in a long time… Don’t want to be either, ever, never.. healthy for my kids (again, 8 mile run yesterday, which I still feel, in ways positive and propelling), and releasing something everyday.. always in my written and professorial mode. Now I’m downstairs, on the couch, with that light above the floor quite low but just enough luminary to create an atmosphere. Like I’m at a bar, a wine bar in a hotel after it’s closed. I’m on the Road. Lecture tomorrow morning at a college, on writing discipline, waking early. Far from home… imagining I’m on the East Coast.. Harvard, Massachusetts. Today, I’ve taught my self much about Self, how to get a true Self. But more meditation’s needed, closer and closer to 37. that’s 3 years from 40. Paid tonight, and wondering where the money’s going. Pay the tax lady.. pay Melissa what I owe her (don’t want my wife carrying me, nor do I want her to be short in any reel).. gas, credit card.. what else.. how about me? Am I allowed to have some of my own check? See? This is just what I have a problem with, and why I need take my teachings and writings, general instructional continents on the Road. INDEPENDENTLY. Make my students proud. Be more like my students, like some of those I see in the 7:30 ‘5’ section with their journals out, reviewing their notes and what they’ve underlined and or highlighted. Alarm set for 4:!5.. and this time, it’s not a fucking joke. Not something I can just pick up the phone, swipe right and go back to sleep. Not this time, not tomorrow morning. As I figure, with the semester I approach the ninth inning (in the 7th or so, I figure, if my math is right). Need to pull an upset, make changes in the lineup, start my bullpen, throw them, the remaining weeks, off completely. So quiet down here, in this wine bar, the bottom floor of the Autumn Walk Studio. I’ll post more writing prompts an exercises after waking. Grade and read a bit. Be the roaming educator I need be, that I want my babies to see.
NOTE: Jackie now pretending to write in a little notebook his doctor gave him.. saying “I write like Dada..” And now asking me rather frequently and interrogatively, “Daddy, did you write today?”
Well… Did I?