My father would have been 87 years old today. I lost him 38 years ago. Way too soon.
I’m not posting here on a regular basis (it’s temporary, don’t panic). But I have a hard time letting this day pass without posting and acknowledging that.
Life remains too busy, but I continue to make adjustments. My final mainstage show for the spring opens next Thursday. As I’ve noted, after that I’m taking a break.
I hope that will allow me to get back into a regular schedule of writing here. But, not to worry, I’ve already begun plans to do something else with my time.
Part of the struggle with writing here is coming up with a daily topic or theme that I think people might want to read. The temptation to wade back into the political swamp is strong. Still, I just don’t want to do it.
Let me just say that, while I’ve already said I’ll never vote for Donald Trump, all the ugliness happening out there on the campaign trail is not all his fault. Sure, he fans the flames.
But hate and sin and violence existed long before The Donald had his first combover. Getting him out of the political process, or stopping the lawful exercise of the First Amendment by blocking access to one of his rallies is not going to change that.
Trump isn’t the problem. He’s a symptom.
And, that’s all I have to say about that.
For now, anyway.
As for focusing this blog, there are all kinds of experts out there who will help you find your niche…for a price. Maybe one day I’ll let them.
In the meantime, I keep writing my 1,000 words a day, and writing my script, and thinking about writing my novel.
I mean, in the meantime I’m learning my lines for the show opening next week.
The struggle is real.
It does indeed look as if spring his here. It makes me a happy boy.
Meanwhile, look for me on stage: