I'm at my favorite bar for what started as midweek social night but has kind of morphed (evolved? devolved?) into sitting, drinking, thinking, and lyric writing night. I can't help but miss the fun and interaction the old Tuesday night group of comrades used to bring, but they are all gone now...either across the country, across the globe, or, most unusually, to my enemies list. I was actually shocked to find out I have an enemies list, but there you go. I don't really like the way having one makes me more like Nixon, but at this point, I don't really know what to do about it. At least I don't have his jowls.
Writing night, however, has become frightfully productive. I have a solo album coming out (more about this later), sing about five songs for my rawk band, and have about ten other originals...and they, for the most part, come from my Tuesday nights. When I'm on, I can get two songs a night.
I'm writing so fast, though, that I'm in danger of overload. This morning, I realized I had a writing night coming up but didn't actually have anything on deck. Then that tiny part of my mind which always tries to get me in trouble remembered the country song I started to write 20+ years ago as a mental exercise.
So that's what I'm up to tonight...writing country music. I doubt it will sound like country when I'm done, though. I have no idea how to describe my style to anyone. I know I have a style. Labeling it? That's harder. But I do know two things. First, I know that eventually, they all come out sounding like me...whatever that means. Secondly, whatever I do isn't country music.
Anyway, I am quite comfortable admitting I'm not exactly Nashville material. For one thing, I'm too fat. Also, as my daughter has made clear, I have a big head, and I'm too broke to order a custom cowboy hat.