, , , ,

LONG LAKE AND THE LONG RUN

, , , ,
LONG LAKE AND THE LONG RUN

I am in Long Lake, Wisconsin at my college friend Dan Brown's hunting camp. The docks have been pulled out for the winter. A thick coat of ice still covers the surface. I flew in after coaching at The Ten Saturday night. One of my girls broke 5:00 for the mile for the first time. Got up at 5 the next morning for the drive to LAX. On the way, I saw a shadowy figure on the darkened tollway and swerved at the last minute. It was an owl, of all things. Enormous. Gray feathers. Flew away just in time. I have a thing for large birds of prey. Hawks, falcons, golden eagles, and owls. I would have been devastated if I had killed it. There's been quite enough death in my life recently.

,

PLAY IT LOUD

,
PLAY IT LOUD

Never underestimate the value of loud music.

My stereo system went down a couple years ago. I didn't know where to go to get it fixed. So my turntable and receivers and speakers sat silent in a corner of my office below the framed Bruce Springsteen "Night for the Vietnam Veteran" poster. My vinyl collection on the bottom shelf of the bookcase remained unplayed. I went in and out of my office each day, consumed by one creative writing demand or another, until I slowly forgot I'd ever ended my work day with Side One of something extremely loud with lyrics that touched my soul.

, , ,

INSPIRATION

, , ,
INSPIRATION

The universe is speaking.

Just had one of those Peloton workouts that wring sweat out of every pore, bringing forth the aromas of everything I've put in my body the last forty-eight hours. The kind of sweat that makes you glad you're alone because the funk is so embarrassing.

And I was singing.