January 22

Do you wait for inspiration like a schoolboy waiting for a date to arrive, looking repeatedly at your watch, the night slowly turning purple with dusk, secretly hoping your date doesn’t show up so you can put on your sweats and watch “The Fall Guy?”

Oh yes I got oddly specific with that metaphor.

Speaking of the Fall Guy I saw Lee Majors once at a nostalgia convention.

Oh yeah once I went to a nostalgia convention.

I got on a bus at 10th Avenue and went to Baltimore.

THere were a lot of guys — it was almost all guys — excited about cowboys, batman, star trek.

There was lone ranger cosplay. I went to a lecture on Al Jolson.

Another lecture on Bugs Bunny.

Anyway I saw Lee Majors sitting in a chair, accompanied by his wife.

I remembered having a Six Million Dollar man action figure, in a red sweatsuit. Maybe you had one too.

And running in slow motion with Steve Austin sound effects.

And there was Lee Majors in a chair, having a rest and I was having a rest myself, and I didn’t bother him.

Anyway. Do you wait for inspiration and then go watch “The Fall Guy” when it doesnt show up?

Or do you chase it like a greased pig at the county fair? No that’s a bad metaphor. Or simile. It’s fine, but it hits a dead end because I’ve never chased a pig.

Do you chase it like your dog who’s gotten loose from the back yard? Who looks at you mischieviously and willfully, as if to say “I’m not supposed to do this, but I’m going to do it anyway,” and then runs as fast as he can, which is pretty fast, straight to the ill-tempered neighbor’s house. And you put on your Tennis shoes slowly, and half walk, half jog up the hill, and over the split rail fence, to retrieve your dog? Do you chase inspiration like that?

And then what do you do when you catch it?

Or does it catch you? That’s better. That’s always better.

Me, the greased pig, darting in and out of the legs of all the farmers at the county fair, squealing in fear and procrastination, or else.

I’m a sword in a stone or…

a shard of glass in a heel and inspiration has some tweezers.

That’s it, I’m — not a shard — but a sliver of glass in the heel of inspiration, and inspiration is bent over, with a light shining on inspiration’s foot, with a straight pin, trying to get me out, and I want to say, don’t worry about it, I’ll come out eventually. One day inspiration will find I’ve come loose.

Hm that metaphor doesn’t work so well.

Here we go:

My creativity is Lee Majors at a nostalgia convention. Sitting on a pastel hotel lobby chair, Blonde wife (Faith Cross, actress and model) by his side, looking at his watch, dreading the upcoming autograph-signing session in which he will sign headshots for a never ending line of middle-aged nerds at a Hampton Inn in Baltimore. Held in place by some contract or obligation, there is no escape.

Thinking, Lee Majors is, “I got into acting for the hot chicks and fame, not for old dudes in a stale lobby. What am I doing here? Honey, what are *we* doing here? How do we get out?” This last addressed to the wife.

“Lee, get a hold of yourself. You’re here because you agreed to be and you’re getting paid. Just smile and say thank you, pose for the camera and it’ll be over before you know it and we’ll be back in Hollywood before Sundown tomorrow.”

Lee takes a deep breath and pictures those brown dry hills, drenched in sun. If he closes his eyes he can smell the eucalyptus drifting on the breeze through the canyon. Mm.. A nice hike will be good when he gets back. Maybe tonight he will walk for about a half hour on the treadmill in anticipation. “Thanks Honey, you’re the best.”

So that’s it. My creativity is Lee Majors about to sign autographs. Deep Breath. Smell the eucalyptus.

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