Back in the chair, back watching tv I wouldn’t normally watch. The sun is starting its descent and I’m not out enjoying it.

I’m chilling like the dove we found on oldold man Finn’s windshield wipers as we were leaving for dinner n the Florida Gulf Coast / Army NCAA Men’s College Basketball Game.

My grandfather had the courage to wait outside the Army lockerroom after the game to try and talk to head coach Jim Crews. Jim Crews was a member of the 1975-76 Indiana University Men’s Basketball team that went undefeated and won the NCAA Championship that season.The 6 degrees between Crews and oldold Finn is that oldold Finn went to college with Crew’s high school basketball coach. Oldold man was curious as to the location of his college classmate.

Oldold Finn got as far as a grad assistant – not bad when considering he was trying to get a hold of a head coach that saw his team claw back from a 26-point 2nd half deficit and get within 5 with a minute to go.

It’s it’s oldold man’s kind “he’s but a man” approach to people I instill in the main character of Book of Blues. I try to do it myself and succeed at least 9 out of 10 times, but on that evening I was “outguned” by an 83-year-old man who naps half the day. He talked while I stayed halfway down the hall and checked updates on the Illinois/Purdue game.

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I came really close to starting the Book of Blues Prequel yesterday, but as the Jack Johnson line quoted in this post’s title would indicate, the day was lost in regards to writing – as with many days in the past.

Now that I think about it, I swear I’ve heard the line before I heard it in Jack Johnson’s Fall Line. Like it was a military song or something similar. Or a parody of a line, perhaps.

Not that yesterday was a lost. Trips to Florida Gulf Coast University, Alico Arena, and the movie theatre made for a fulfilling day. The end of the day presented the choice of walking or writing. I can think out dialogues when I walk; I can’t walk when I write on a laptop. The choice was easy.

Today is off to a better start. This post is almost done. I’ve eaten n the food’s almost digested. The suntan lotion has soaked in. And I’m almost done watching David Caruso make his CSI: Miami character ‘Horatio Caine’ sound more like Shatner’s ‘Cpt. Kirk’ than normal in this episode. It’s probably because there’s a gun everyone’s looking for called ‘The Vaporizer.’

“Ilogical.”

Wow, Horatio Caine is a bad muthaf*cker. Note to self: next time you have a choice of either shooting or talking to Horatio Caine: shoot fast. Especially after you’ve shot up his Hummer with a Vaporizer. Then, after he shoots you and the gangbangers standing 40 yards away looking to buy the Vaporizer, he’ll stand over you and remind you of his John Wayne-ness:

“Looks like it only takes the one.”
‘One’ shot, that is.

Such coolness prompted me to watch another episode. Curse my friend for making me research the mesmerizing bliss that is David Caruso.

I’ll get my day started in a few more more minutes.

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It’s early afternoon here just off the island. Though Ernest Hemimgway never stepped foot on neither Sanibel or Captiva Island, the official Ernest Hemingway Festival can be found out here during the summer because the local Chamber of Commerce decided to do what Key West presumably didn’t do: get the Hemingway estate’s blessing. I’d guess along with the blessing goes a percentage of the festival’s revenue. It might sound cynical, but anyone with a business class under their belt knows it makes good business sense.

At this point in time in the day, were I Hemingway, I would have been up early, would have had the writing for the day done n I’d be off to binging. But, as an anti-Hemingway, I got up, went back to bed n will get the day done before I write.

Some write to fill their cup; some write to empty themselves.

I hope to write tonight. Thoughts need spilt and emptied like Hemingway’s mojitos.

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The first two chapters in the Book of Blues Prequel have been completed. Two chapters in and I already have to tweak my Book of Blues to tie them together seemlessly. But I’m excited. I have the Book of Blues Prequel outline sketched and within a couple pages of writing, I’ve already went to a new place – which prompted the tweaking. The coolest part was that it was the character that took me there.

I’m assuming the Book of Blues Prequel will be easier to write since I’ve already know the characters and have used them before. Then again, what do I know?

Of course, none of this day’s progress has been written down: NFL Week 17’s games gave started. Bears need to beat Houston (up 10-0 at this moment) and Minnesota needs to lose to the Giants (up 3-0 right now. Grrrr) for the Bears to win the NFC North. Otherwise, Tampa Bay (tied 0-0) and Dallas (later) need to lose for the Bears to get the wild card birth (with a win).

To add to my Book of Blues distractions, my mother and aunt and uncle are having their last full day in Ft. Myers, Margaritaville. I see my aunt and uncle too infrequetly as to lock myself up on such a beautiful day and not spend time with them. That’s why laptops were invented: so I can work nearly anywhere at any time.

So long as my reason doesn’t excuse itself into a distraction.

Damn, Peterson just ran a 67-yard touchdown run to give Minnesota a 10-0 lead. Back to the business at hand.

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In beat with previous concessions, instead of lacing up walking shoes and working up a sweat, I’m engaged in oldold man Finn’s favorite long-standing Saturday Night tradition: watching The Lawrence Welk Show

My aunt is grumbling over the fact that there’s still 20 minutes to go. My mom is pointing out the comb-overs: “poor guys.” Oldold man Finn is nostalgiaing over the long-since-forgotten details of a show that hasn’t tapef an episode since 1982:

“The spoon player is from Portland, IN.”

“Nope, those guys are twins.”

“There used to be a guy from Gary [IN] on here.”

My uncle inquired,”Lawrence Welk never paid above union scale?”

“I dunno,” answered oldold man Finn, “but he had guys stay on a great many years.”

I’m the de-facto south room iPhone 3G Google researcher so I had to see that Welk was of German immigrants n was born on March 11, 1903 in Strasburg, North Dakota. My uncle – who is the de-facto north room iPhone 3G Google Resercher and who asked the question – can find out the wages.

Of course, this means that I’m not getting my walk in. I need to get my energy levels up so I’ll have more time in the day to write. I’m getting old.

The trip to Ave Maria University, outside of Naples, FL was a refeshing suprise.

Founded in 2007 by Domino’s Pizza founder Tom Monaghan, inhabitants of the area told me that Monaghan sold off his stake in Domino’s Pizza in order to fund the completion of the project.

Complete with resort homes n exquisite French Quarter meets beach resort (despite being 10 miles from the gulf) meets a safely-diluted variation of Stepford, Ave Maria University looks to be a resplendent opportunity for financially-priveledged Catoholic kids with college aspirations. (Addendum: I have not researched the denominational qualifications of the institution.)

The Bulls game is in the 3rd quarter. I’ll be walking soon.

As Lawrence Welk would say, “Have a song in your heart.”

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