No piece next Sunday, July 5th, but one coming Saturday, July 4th. Why not Sunday? Read it to see it, and, while I'm here, thanks for reading my stuff all along. It's a joy to do it. Your comments are everything this writer wanted to hear about his work since he scribbled his first word. I didn't know I'd be feeling grateful, but I am. A surprise perk.
When I first arrived in Hollywood and could do no wrong for awhile, I nurtured this dream that, some day, if I wanted to write about a blade of grass, I could. So, I do. Nobody's out there cutting me a check which might spice things up, but I'd be lying if I didn't confess to every living creature on earth that I'm still having a really good time. Can't complain. Won't complain. It all does seem to be coming together, yet I wonder why it also seems so hedonistic? Because I'm having a good time? Uh, huh. Bingo. Houston, we don't have a problem. Got it, fool? However, I have yet to write about a blade of grass.
All I really intended to do was notify you about the Sunday to Saturday info. I didn't intend to write this piece at all. Like the red shoes, however, I couldn't stop my fingers. "Falling in love again, Don't know what to do, Never wanted to, Can't help it." M. Dietrich
Spread the word!
Safe safe.
No comments:
Post a Comment