I want to do something great,
but is it too late?
It’s 2:21 AM and I am at the Rodeway Inn
in Encinitas, California.
I miss my kids, sure, but I’ll see them tomorrow.
The thing that’s really eating me, that is keeping me from sleeping
–aside from my graveyard work schedule–
is that I really fucking want to do something great.
I’m not old but also I don’t have my whole life ahead of me anymore,
and I feel like I’ve had something inside of me my whole life.
But how the fuck do I get it out to the world?
What has kept it inside of me my whole life?
I feel like I have songs that would make Bob Dylan blush,
make John Lennon cut his hair and get a job.
Why won’t I record them?
I feel like I’m a good podcaster,
but how come I’m not a great one?
And when will I finish my first book?
For fuck’s sake…
So I can start a 2nd one,
which will be,
I don’t know,
what’s the word?
When will I get out of the hole, quit poker, go back to school and become a college basketball coach? I want to coach kids too. Boys and girls. Teach them to be good to each other, to support each other, and yeah, to fucking ball…
Maybe tomorrow, when I wake up, I will do something great. Most likely I won’t, but maybe I will… Actually, fuck that, I’m going to something great right now. I’m going to refine the notes for episode 76 of Season 2 of Sessions (the next one I have to record).
I listened to episode 70, “Latin Night”, on my drive to San Diego tonight. I thought it was great when I recorded it. It wasn’t though. It was pretty good. And that’s cool.
But I want to do something great.
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