My first bad move was when I opened my mouth…

Sorry, that’s still in the vault. I don’t like the chorus, so I’ve abandoned that song. Temporarily, at least.

I cleaned up my Mac this past weekend. It had crufted over to the point where I only had 40GB of space on the hard drive available to do… whatever. I deleted a lot of rehearsals of mine, making sure they were backed up somewhere. It reminded me of the amount of cruft I’ve accumulated in life, and how a lot of it is disguising itself as television. Distractions again. I’m nearly finished with that cursed picture box. I have better things to do, and others can take up my bad viewing habits. I’ll knock it down to The Daily Show, American Dad, and Community. And Archer, because Johnny Bench called. No, YOU look it up this time. Besides, Rescue Me is nearly finished, and I don’t know how much more Breaking Bad I can psychologically take. That’ll free up lots of time, right? As long as I use it responsibly, and that sort of thing. I also started listening to a bushel of songs and particles I’d recorded over the past few years, the stuff that never makes it past the record-it-quick-before-I-forget-it phase. Usually that phase exists solely because I forget the pieces exist. Anyway, I started listening, and I liked some of it. Some of it might even be worth finishing.

Below you’ll see my third pick. I went for the longest time without using picks, and then I started playing electric guitar again. Bruce Cockburn can have it his way, but I likes that attack on the strings. So the pick below is the third design, having already used up 100 each of design one and two. I’ll post them at some point, just because they tell me something about my peculiar road. This one, however, glows in the dark. Yes. Covet my plectrum.

And I’ve started working on a novel, by the way. Because I don’t have enough things to fill up my head and calendar, that’s why.