Bulb Sea

Woke just before 7 this morning and headed to Healdsburg for a run.  Only 5k, but I keep telling myself it’s the start of a new start, a new running book.  Tomorrow running around here, the Skyhawk hills, maybe touch 4-5 miles.  Iced coffee picked up at the Vine Street HBG SBUX, still sipping it.  Day in flight.  Chris headed over and we’ll launch for some West County wine tasting.  Hopefully the air won’t be too bad.  Coach Patrick warning me not to run because of the air quality.  I respect his opinion and assessment of course but I was up early and needed a run.  Badly.

10:12, dressed and showered and ready for a wine story.  Porter Creek and MacRostie, the two targets.  Lunch after.  Consolidating everything, during this bunkering. Nothing new, meaning no new physical items other than clothes.  Of course I’m referring the music equipment and new camera.  Put off, till much later.  Bx will have a media arm and emphasis, but the real inception of such has to be delayed.  Or not…..  Can go about it a different way, with what I have – phone.  Use the phone.

The smoke now more visible and prevalent, looking out the window and West.  Not concerned.  I need a story.  Running…. Wine…..  business….. publishing.  Life’’s work.  Prospect emailing me toward EOD yesterday and requesting a contract.  First thing I’ll do on Monday, you can be assured.  Two selling days left in August.  Two contracts could land in those two 24-hour edifices.  We’ll see….

Thinking this morning on run, about writing… writing what’s happened in past, from just seconds ago to weeks and months and years behind me.  When I worked at the “the box” my friend and I called it….  The small “marketing firm” in downtown Napa.  I remember one time venting to my friend Steve who was part owner of a bar just around he corner, and he said “Sip and scribble, that’s what you do….” Must have been over ten years ago that interaction happened.  Then I remember when I first started at Lancaster, when Ted owned it.  Time just flying by me like a hurried buzzard, racing to that still animal before his equivalents.

The book everyone keeps asking me about. Well, just asking “So are you writing a book?” Annoys me almost as much as when people let fly out of their mouth, “What do you write about?” More comfortable answering it now, but…. What where was I going with this?….  Oh yeah, the book.  ‘o/ver’.  Certain things coming to their conclusion, or death, so other music can play… and, “O, to see…” To finally be aware.  To finally know, and UNDERSTAND something.

10:23, don’t think I’m going to finish this coffee. I’m changing in that way, not needing the amount of caffeine I used to.  Aging… getting old…. Much I hate it, it’s something to write about.  Now I just find it funny, or try to.  Like Sedaris.  Or, close.