G'Apple

I had a great week last week (great enough to excuse my not blogging after posting a plea for people to not abandon blogging).

Here's what happened: For her 40th birthday JJS really wanted to surprise Momster, so he told her to reserve a weekend for a trip, but didn't tell her where they were going. She was thrilled to find out that the destination was NYC. A cool surprise, right? Well her jaw really dropped when her sister (my wife) and myself walked into the hotel bar... It was a sweet moment, and I was really honored to be a part of it. Picasso and Pollock and pork kidneys and the even-funnier-than-I-could've-imagined Spamalot: New York did not disappoint. And our friends there managed what we thought was impossible--they made it so we miss them even more now. They really stepped up, showed us all a time we'll never forget.

Whenever I go to New York I always get really inspired. All the cultural stimulation builds up because I never write on vacation and I find myself bursting with artistic confidence, thinking "Oh, poetry's easy! I can't wait to get back home and knock out a dozen quick ones..." Now that I've been back a few days I remember what always happens after I've been back a few days--nothin' special. I mean, the inspiration lingers, but I'm reminded that my particular process is anything but fast and flashy. No Action Painter, I. And now that the Colbert Reportis on (and funny--though I don't see how he'll keep it up)my day is a half hour shorter...