On holiday starting next Saturday.
Writing has been a bitch for about several months now, hence no new posts.
Let’s see about November.
Catch you guys on the flipside . . .
I made it through the holiday, y’all.
Christmas Eve found me a bit crazy though (as my wife will attest)
What can I say, Maker’s Mark bourbon makes me silly.
But, I had fun, ‘kissing-my-brother-in-law on the cheek’ fun.
Yeah, I don’t think he liked it though.
My sister did give me the holiday hat of my dreams though.
We had all kinds of wonderful food to eat, music playing, inspired conversation, barrels of laughter, Rum Swizzles on ice, wine, beer and we were comfortably surrounded by family;
everything one needs to make the season bright.
You can probably tell from the picture at the top of the post which book I’m currently reading
(a present from my 3 wonderful girls)
I love Wally Lamb but his books do take some perseverance to get through.
Not that I’m complaining.
As a Patriots fan, after yesterday, I have lots of time to get my nose stuck in a book anyway.
I have realized that I’ve been seriously slacking in the reading department, something that changes today, not on January 1st.
To write, you have to read.
And today, it started with no conceivable end in sight.
As far as writing goes, reading helps me and pushes me in a forward direction.
I have no doubt that 2009 will be a great writing year for me.
As far as the blog goes, I won’t be very far away but I’ve made some serious creative promises to myself and will try like hell to keep them. (or Laho will kick my arse)
Damn these New Year resolutions.
Will I give up Guinness?
Will I give up blogging?
Don’t think so.
Will I cook less Risotto?
Not if my daughters have anything to do with it.
Will I stop smoking cigars?
It’s a new year and a fresh chance to chase my dreams.
Many will come true this year.
I just have to keep on believing and praying.
Catch all of you in ’09.
I wish all of you the very best that this life has to offer.
The candles are lit and the prayers waiting to be whispered.
Please let me know if you need one.
Happy New Year, folks.
And go easy on the MSG, okay?
My pen is ready.
It’s time to rock, folks . . .
I’m a bad Santa, a Grinch and yuletide curmudgeon of the highest order and I admit it.
Just the thought of this most blatantly commercial and candy-cane-twisted holiday sends me running for my dimly lit cave high on Mount Crumpit.
I’ll level with you and say that in my icy-cold heart I will always harbour a love
for the Christmas holiday with its ‘peace on earth, goodwill toward men’ mentality
but jeepers creepers how many lameass Mercedes Benz commercials can these ding-a-lings make?
Even if I had the dough I would never put a giant red bow on an SL550 and give it as a present.
You gotta be one hell of a pretentious douchebag to pull that one off.
I hardly ever watch TV and at this time of the year, even more so.
Television is where your radar picks up on all the subliminal horseshit this holiday has sadly come to represent.
Every year I try and trick myself into believing that I still hold close the personal ties of holidays past.
I’d be better off sticking my head into a steaming pile of reindeer shit.
Working retail does little but mar and mutilate a spirit that’s sadly on the ropes anyway.
I don’t hear the silver bells and I can’t see the blinking colored lights (unless they’re from a cruiser pulling me over for a busted taillight, Merry Christmas, ossifer)
Maybe it’s a psychological omission on my part, a defense mechanism to keep me from losing my plate of milk and cookies.
I should have dumped this post to Crumpit when I had the chance but I also felt it was only fair to explain my ‘month of December’ frosty sense of discontent.
If you visit here around the holidays you’ll notice that Mick gets very quiet.
I choose to leave my thoughts in a quiet place where silent snow falls, stars twinkle and the moon is always full.
It’s only in this blue crystal space that I build my sky-high snow forts of thought, ideas dripping like icicles in my frozen castle of winter words.
Maybe this will be the year that I somehow find a way to melt the walls of snow I’ve piled high, my vast emotional fortress of sorts.
Maybe this will be the time I find the absolute truth that lives peacefully inside a holiday I can honestly say I miss.
Then reality taps me on the shoulder and says, “Read This, Grinch.”
Yeah, we’re off to a brilliant start.
And people wonder why I despise this holiday and what it currently represents.
God help us, everyone.
I’m going back to my dimly lit cave, thank you very much . . .
Keyboards and all.
Recording a song I just
wrote for a very special wedding.
More details to follow but I’ll keep you in suspense for now . . .
This is in response to a comment from a post a few days ago.
Actually, his comment reminded me of this tune, hence the post.
All for Evyl . . .