Food Eater

I was pondering my "creative conundrum" and figured out the problem: my fascination with NASCAR, Texas Roadhouse, WWE, etc. has morphed me into a mere "food eater." The only things that satisfy me are fast cars, meat, violence, and of course beer. I work only to consume. The literary arts no longer matter to me. Perhaps I should accept the inevitable. Of course this "thought train" is fairly prejudicial and maybe a tad guilty of stereotyping.

I honestly think the longer that I have been writing the less satisfied I am with my poetry. I'm not sure if this is a common experience but I don't think I'm entirely comfortable with my declining satisfaction. And I don't mean comfortable in the sit back, prop my feet up, sip a little single malt, and watch some Battlestar Galactica sense (although that's not all that bad) but in the sense that I'm willing to reconcile the "normal" evolution in any poets (or aspiring poets) creative life: namely that over time they become less and less satisfied with their work and have to make adjustments to their mental paradigms, writing habits, aesthetics, poetics, etc. to compensate for the evolution. Perhaps this is too rigid a view? Perhaps there is no such thing as the "normal evolution of less satisfaction" or perhaps I'm taking myself too seriously.

On a less serious note. First, I went to my office to write this morning. Megan was watching Project Runway and drinking coffee at 7:00 AM. The coffee was normal but Project Runway at 7:00 AM. I didn't write.

Secondly, my mere "food eater" comment reminded me of a story about one of my colleagues at the bank I "food eat" at. A few months ago he and I went out for sushi on pay day Friday: we call it pay day sushi. He told me over sushi that he was using he and his wife's stimulus check to buy his wife new boobs. He was serious. He added that if they got a divorce she would get one and he'd get one because he paid for them. He also added that the fact that he was buying his wife a boob job with their stimulus check gave a new meaning to the phrase stimulus package. I'm serious. She got the boob job. How does one respond especially while eating sushi.

Third, I'm going to be a featured reader at the Main Street Rag reading series which is hosted at The Writer's Place in KC every third Sunday of the month. So, Brandon if your reading this mark August 17th on your calendar. Otherwise...actually Brandon, you might be the only one who reads this blog.