SILENT BEATNIK BOOMER AND THE BARTLETT

The Bartlett bar

75 people looked in on my bucket list quest yesterday. They find it on my Facebook page, The Silent Boomer, rather than directly here, I believe. I'm still confused by Google, Facebook and Silent Boomer connectivity. I'm going to have to step away from writing for the next five days or so again. On road to Spokane again, and I can't seem to write on the road. Speaking of the road, I watched On The Road last night for a 2nd time, a faithful chronological rendering of the novel. We're visiting my father-in-law who has recently entered hospice care from complications of diabetes. My wife has had to deal with my cancer last year and now her father is in decline. Think loving thoughts. While in Spokane we have previously ordered tickets for my son's improv group at The Bartlett.

I requested and received a confirmation about my poem "The Legacy" but still waiting the contract that makes it official before I say anything here. It's been months since I sent out any of my novels to agents. It's so hard for me to take the time away from actually writing to send out my work, tailor the query letters to the agents. I know there is now a service that takes over a writer's submissions, but I am slow to pick up on it. It's like having a paid agent for agents. Where does the retrogression end? Sometimes I feel I'm right on the verge...the "verge" of what?

SILENT MAN'S SILENCE IS TROUBLING

It looks black when nothing inspires me.......

I'm sorry I've neglected this blog for so many days, but a couple of days I was in Spokane watching my youngest son, Patrick, perform with his improv group at the Bartlett. Sold out, lots of laughter. The Bartlett is an interesting venue. A bar, an espresso joint and a performance room in the back are interconnected. Later we walked Spokane's downtown streets, and it is a jumping place nowadays, people spilling out on the sidewalks. We couldn't find a quiet bar where we could talk so we ended up at the Onion where I got myself a bowl of their forever great onion soup. So delicious. My oldest son Sean and my daughter-in-law Sheila are coming over to visit, and Mertie and I are looking forward to visiting and maybe playing some board games.
 
On the other hand, many days these days, doldrums set in and nothing creative goes on in my head—"NOTHING," he shouts—and it's scary. These days I have to have a particularly sharp day in order to work at something. My inspiration is weak and faltering. I ask myself if it will completely disappear someday soon. 

On yet a third hand, I do sit down and submit poetry, short stories to magazines and queries to agents for the novel. Working at that does give me a sense of accomplishment. Currently, I have between 15 and 20 submissions out.

SILENT BOOMER, SONS EAT BREAKFAST IN LONG BEACH

My youngest son, Patrick (right), visits next week. He teaches physical education in Spokane and occasionally takes a continuing education workshop in Portland. A creative type too, he has put together improv troupes in Spokane and Bremerton for many years. He's currently forming another group in Spokane. They'll perform out of the Blue Door Theater most likely.

Photo's from last summer at excellent 42nd Street Cafe in Long Beach, Wa. Older son, Sean (left), works in a creative field too. Has his own business in graphic design and now lives and works thru his midlife crisis out of a fifth wheeler on the road in partnership with his wife, Sheila. 

Still coughing thru the nite (even with cough suppressant). Baldness, bad cold, cough and cold meds don't create much but fevered flashes within my synaptic self. I'll restart rewrite of Angie's Choice on Monday I believe.

Found new place to eat vegan and think revolution. The Red and the Black Cafe in Portland. Co-op ownership and IWW Union shop. Couldn't ask for a more beat place. The food is great.  Once or twice I'll have to drive over there to write, see if it fires my flickering imagination. Maybe Tuesday when I go to Portland for the Humanist men's monthly lunch.