Night Thoughts

The night is black.  So black that I can’t even see my hand when I put it directly in front of my face.  I hope I'm not going blind.  

I went for a run earlier this evening with some friends while it was still light out.  The sky was blue with only a few wispy clouds.  The temperature was in the mid 70s.  It has been a gorgeous day.  After running, my friends and I sat outside and drank some beers.  

That was about four hours ago.  Now I am relaxing in my comfy eames chair, staring out the window into the darkness.  My old friend, Mr. Jack Daniels, is here to keep me company.  He is a good companion on dark, lonely nights like tonight.  

I feel like doing something but I’m not sure what.  It is late, though I’m not tired enough to go to bed.  What shall I do?  

Let me think…

I got all my running in for today.  

I spent a few hours this morning banging on the piano keys and I’m all pianoed out.  

I have already read all the books on my shelf.  

The Brewers played earlier today (they blew it).

Maybe I’ll watch some television.  I turn on the idiot box.  

Bob Ross is painting a picture— Nah.  *Change the channel*  

A documentary about planets— No.  *Change the channel*  

The Giants are beating the Rockies 8-4.  Nope.  *Change the channel* 

A commercial about life insurance.  I’d rather die than watch that shit.  *Change the channel*  

Green Acres *Change the channel* 

The X-Files *Change the channel* 

“Gruber Law Offices— One Call, that’s…*Change the channel*

The weather man is talking about how lovely it is in Southern California.  The weather is always lovely in Southern California.  *Change the channel*

*Change the channel*

*Change the channel*

*Change the channel*

... I get about 50 channels and every one of them is garbage.  Junk.  Filth.  Nothing’s any good.  I turn off the TV.                      

Suddenly it hits me.  I know what to do!  I’ll do some writing.  I like to write.  I feel like I write best when I use a pencil and paper.  Call me old fashioned, I don’t mind.  That’s how I want to be.

Okay, I have my Dixon No. 2 and a clean white sheet of paper, college ruled.  Now all I need is the soft tone of musik.  And a candle, so I can see what I'm writing.  Here I go…

"Words are pouring from my pencil like cold beer going down my dry throat on a hot summer's day.  I am thirsty and it tastes good.  The thirst to write is keeping me up.  The clock just struck ten, Sonny Rollins & the Contemporary Leaders are gently swinging, and the candle on my desk is burning dimly.  The atmosphere couldn't be more perfect. My mind is as sharp as the point of my Dixon No. 2..."

*crumbles up paper, throws it into wastebasket.  (A three-pointer)*

It sucks.  I'm no good.  It was all a lie.  I am not thirsty and my mind is not sharp.  In fact, it is duller than ( ).  So dull that I cannot even think of a metaphor for a dull object.  That dull.

At least my shots are falling for me.  I think I'll just spend the rest of the night hanging with Sonny and Jack and shooting paper balls into the wastebasket.

Good night.

Sonny Rollins and the Contemporary Leaders - I've Told Ev'ry Little Star: