How to Publish a Book of Blues. Hopefully.

I was Half-asleep on a Friday night and halfway through half a sub when ‘Country called.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Just got home from work n eatin’.”

“Well, wolf it down ‘n come out to the Pub n wait for Prophet with me. We’re gonna go check out the Hookah lounge.”

So I take my time and take the long way to the bank in order to enjoy a little cruise in the two-year-old Mustang GT before I go n sit inside a bar on a beautiful night.

While on the slow cruise, listening to Taj Mahal it dawned that I’ve never heard of The Hookah Lounge.

I meet up with ‘Country out in the parking lot n we start shooting the shit ’round the bed of his old GMC. We knew we were gonna have time on our hands because Prophet said he was gonna meet us there in 45 minutes. That was 30 minutes ago so we knew we had another half-hour at least.

The moon was bright and the air was clean and crisp. Work in an office with windows that don’t open and a night outdoors is comforting. It made me want to listen all night to ‘Country’s tale about his buddy sending $3,000 to his Phillipino-wife/Internet-girlfriend so she and her daughter can fly into the states. Jokes flew about why his buddy didn’t just send the tickets or why he didn’t spend another grand and upgrade to a younger wife without a child…In his buddy’s defense he did live in the Phillipines with them for a half-year.

Prophet showed up on (his) time. We brought him up to speed on the gossip and gave him time to catch up in the laughter before we finally went inside.

Our subconscious must have kept time because we were walking in to The Hookah Lounge just as the band finished their set n the teenagers were filing out. That’d when I learned you only had to be 18 to enter The Hookah Lounge. And that explained why everyone was meticulously carded.

It was the first time I went out with the boys n felt like the old guy in the joint. Prophet and ‘Country ordered a tequila sunrise Hookah with our round.

Prophet’s rebuilding a 3-wheeler, Marie is shaving down the carpet around the compartment doors on her brother’s bass boat, and since my handy man skill set consist of “being smart at lifting heavy things,” I’m on the sidelines out in the backyard at Prophet’s house chronicling the final steps of the great fishing boat restoration of 2009.

And I’ll take this job with glee. The soft Lake Michigan breeze is living up to the dreams n longings we had for it during last winter’s deep freeze. And I’ve got a great vantage point of the intersection where classic muscle cars keep driving through on their way to the first great Duneland cruise of 2009.

I’m hoping 2009 is the first great summer I’ve had in awhile. Last year I watched the outdoor season - sunup to sundown - from an office window. The summer before that was devoted to finishing up Book of Blues. This summer, I think I’ll get to see some time outdoors, much to the cheers of my co-workers who want me to remember that life exists outside my 3 work computer screens. And because Book of Blues editing seems to becoming a 2-pronged approach, I think I’ll be able to enjoy some time out in Duneland.

Time to go move scaffolding for the neighbor down the back alley who’s grilling our dinner.

I blinked when I left Ft. Myers, Margaritaville in January and now it’s May. The time between posts wasn’t an accident. I swear I went down to Indy n tore up Broadripple with Bling last month but that was back in Feburary. And I also keep thinking I went to Seattle a couple weekends ago to celebrate Oldold Man Finn’s birthday, but that was in March.

I got pretty sick in Feburary after doing the first part of a project - the events were probably related - n spent six weeks recovering. The illness left me feeling shackled up til when sis n I went to my aunts place in Seattle for Oldold Man’s birthday - the events could be related.

The light is finally coming at the end of the project tunnel. SEO projects can be exhausting when you have to restart from the ground up n…rants for another day. Once upon a time I got the job as “plan B” to Book of Blues. Still, I’m blessed to have a “plan B” 4 miles from home.

My copyediting cousin has gone from saying he’d be done with Book of Blues just after the Super Bowl to not returning phone calls. Don’t know the answer. Hope he’s alright. Maybe he’s pissed about my impatience. Either I could keep hunting him down or go on to those I can get ahold of.

Time for plan C: listen to the copyeditors at work n let them go to town on the draft. It’s a lucky plan C to have in the back pocket. For in the end, the goal is to finish the Book of Blues. The work projects n editing delay gave me time to think about the idea of writing to the audience. So, I think I’ll do one more runthrough the draft as I print it out for Max Power. It also made me reconsider the book titles because now I think of all 3 books at once, whereas before I used to just think of the original book.

But, before I get to do the Book of Blues fun, I actually have to get to the end of the project tunnel.

Unless this is all a dream and I’m still in Ft. Myers, Margaritaville.

I can tell my patience is wearing thin regarding my epic wait for the edits to my Book of Blues. The good news is that I talked to my cousin. I talked to him in that Facebook chat-sort-of-way. I don’t blame him. 70-hour work weeks in the blizzardom of Minneapolis has to hurt regardless of whether it’s indoor or outdoor.

To my surprise he said many a good thing about Book of Blues. He says I write very, very well. He doesn’t give out compliments so that was a suprise. Smiles emanate from him when he can get steal time to read. He says that it really goes quick. These are easily better comments than what I was expecting.

He does think there is some fat to trim. I don’t disagree. I just need fresh eyes to determine where the fat needs trimming. He’s also considering my thought of splitting the book in half given it’s girth. He’ll have to consider it. The second job he has a a book store is sadly being given up. But, he’ll have more time to read it.

I’ll have to consider what he thinks about “unnecessary description” because he’s a confessed skimmer when it comes to description. I’ll need a bigger sample size. Let me know if you’re interested.

As for the little things gettin’ to me, I refer to DB and Max Power at the Whoredom. I need to write more for them.

9 days after the Super Bowl and I’m starting to reconsider what my cousin said by “shortly after” he’d have his comments n edits for Book of Blues.

I have no patience anymore. I don’t live for much else and I’m ready to go back to work on it.

My cousin’s like me: he’s much more impatient when he’s the one who has to wait. I am. I’m half tempted to reprint the draft and go through it one more time, but that’s because I’m being impatient.

The old sayings run through my head:

• Patience is a virture
• A watched pot never boils
• Rome wasn’t built in a day
• First things first

Well as I watch the snow melt, the paint dry and the grass grow, I started to get frazzled at the feeling of my hair getting grayer, my wrinkles getting longer and my youth fading away. As I hear the sounds of sand slipping away like sands through an hourglass, I not only live in the present, but I hold on to every day like it was my last.

Need to live a little more…