The sun is back here in Bloomington and after a long day of editting and revising it feels very welcome. Sometimes this whole writing thing seems to be too damned competitive and we all just need to take a step back and maybe breath. I'm not referring to anything particular event, but just that general malaise of received at least six times the rejection letters than acceptance letters. Well, at least most the rejection letters are at least nice ones. I'm starting to hate the whininess of this post already, so lets turn the ship here.
Music cures the soul, right? As I said before that I spent yesterday working and listening to tunes and this song somehow came up. It reminded me of trips of Amherstburg and driving I-75 south in my childhood. We had an old beast of brown station wagon and my father would be slurping the majestic red cans of Bud during or travels (I'm pretty sure he wasn't driving at those moments). Here's to mustaches, tight clothes, and 1970s pop. There must be a story or a poem in there somewhere.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment