Vladimir and Estragon Go To White Castle.

For those of you that know me...well, you know I tend to lean away from optimism; and that's a polite way of saying that I can be one negative somnabitch.

I'm not sure how I wound up like that; but for the most part, and in the hindsight that age brings, I can say that it's been there a long time. Perhaps I learned early how short a season it is on this planet. Perhaps it was that moment when I realized that striving to be gentlemanly and intelligent was no substitute for being handsome. Perhaps it was the moment that when I needed help, the ground shook with the thousands of feet, running away. Or, it was the moment when I discovered, much to my chagrin at my own naivety, that it was more important to suck up than it was to do the job.

And that's how my character developed.
Ain't ya glad ya know me?

Which reminds me of something that used to hang in my office, which I applied to theatre, but can be applied to everything:

Thoughts become words; Words become deeds; Deeds become habits; Habits become character; Character is everything.

I believe it's paraphrased from Emerson.

So, what keeps me going is this almost irrational belief that the plans talked about over a cup or two of coffee at a little place on Branch Street about two thousand miles from here will reach fruition. Now, all I need is time, inclination, desire, dreams, financial backing, financial planning, financial security, a study of local demographics, a place, a time, something to write on and something to write with.

I am tired, Ladies and Gentlemen: I am TIRED of spending too much time doing what I've GOT to and not enough time doing what I WANT to. I've got to find some way of pulling the two ends together and tying the m****rf***er off!

It's time to circle the wagons. How does one do that when you only have one wagon?

Oh. CRAP! I ONLY HAVE THE ONE WAGON!

(At that point, reality raised it's ugly head, and with a sharp exhale that carried the faint aroma of flop sweat and old books, blew our intrepid hero back into the doldrums, where he spent the rest of his days creating variations of chili and yelling at the kids in the neighborhood to stay the hell off his lawn....)