I haven’t really been around on BS these days. I barely am here enough to promptly respond to comments to the one post that I try my damndest to get out once a week. For this, I appologize most sincerely to you, my readers.

I can't even begin to tell you the last time that I went through my reading list and left comments or simply just read. I have not forgotten anyone but I am sure some folks feel that way. Again, I am sorry.

It has been months since I wrote a short story over at ‘young broke and republican’ and almost as long since a new poem went up over at ‘verses of a modern day madman’.

When I first signed up almost two years ago, I was very jazzed about being able to have a forum for my writing; the possibilities were endless. It wasn’t until a few months later that I found my voice here on BS with writing politics and social commentary on ‘young broke and republican’. Funny, that what finally sunk my heels into the BS experience is something that I completely shy away from when participating these days!

The new people were amazing and the energy here was profoundly electric. It was as if we were all freshman in college and feeling each other out (and up) and just like that first year of university, some of us did not make it past the first few semesters. However, some of us graduated and others became perma-students making the wish to never grow up and be forever wrapped in this educational cocoon.

Shortly after Lucy’s amazing graduation video, I was introduced to the chat room and found that to be a great social release. It was like a local club or bar where everyone from the community could go to unwind and discuss the happenings in the ‘neighborhood’. Many a late night was spent by me in that ‘room’ talking to folks I could only imagine the visages of. Sometimes it would lead to late night phone calls; other nights it was just me and the four walls waiting for the Capt’n to show up before or after some Godly shift of vocational perversion.

All good things are a terrible thing to waste in glass houses with bulls run amok.

Ahhhh, to remember those nights …

I remember those days and sometimes when I take that first sip of coffee in the morning or look out off of my deck in a certain direction while smoking a cigarette, I think of those nights. The writing, the friendships, the quarrels, the gossip, the connection; the smell of something fresh and clean.

I will be back, once my two jobs are whittled to one. Maybe then, Whit will unblock me, Moody will return, Lucy will forgive and forget and say hello, and the chat room will be that dive to grab a draught in before you head home.

Wishful thinking.

Godspeed …