As I mentioned in the last post, the job hunt is still in process. I have been trying to keep busy with projects of my own, as well, including a short piece I wrote for the 360GamerCast website. You can find that here. (It was written by request of the site host, to focus on 20 years from geek to chic, and is targeted to his Xbox 360 console audience. So, before you ask… I wasn’t dissing the computer game industry. They just weren’t the focus of the article.) Be sure to give their podcast a listen – it’s a lot of fun!
Today, I sent in a short little article to the “Save This Old House” column of (naturally) This Old House magazine. There’s a historic house down the street that we thought about buying during our house-hunting process, but it would have been too expensive to rehab, so we passed. We still have a soft spot for it, though, so I drove up there and snapped some photos. According to a contact there, it’s been pitched for a future issue.
Finally, I recently discovered a folder with several poems that I wrote back in the 90s, when I was younger and much more naive. Some of them have a raw darkness that still appeals to me even as they make me shake my head and wonder what the heck I was thinking. Here’s one that I think is a bit clever. Enjoy (or not)!
Wright Why can’t we fly? Why can’t we? The skies aren’t crowded with birds. Surely there’s enough room there for us. Planes are not true flight. Planes are our way of flying without our feet leaving the ground. I want to fly. I want to feel the wind in my face. See the streets below me. Like now. These buildings are high. But it doesn’t matter. I can soar between them. Like now. See the people below me? They’re afraid. Afraid of me. Afraid of flight. So they run. They’ve never seen a man fly. You know, it’s funny. The ground comes up awfully fas