Insomnia

I’ve been up since 2 a.m. & I hate to be the one to break it to you, but, supposedly, according to a timeline tucked away in some Mayan runes, the world is coming to an end in four years. Yup, 2012, A.D: The cosmic serpent eats its own tail. The Great Ship goes down. Until then, though, there are plenty of causes worth fighting for. Know what mine are? Civilization and sanity.

But damn, man, I hate waiting on these writing programs. Luckily I have a gigantic Herculean effort – the move – to distract me. It is now 5:12 a.m. Twelve hours from now, my family will officially be relocated. Until we can get a line on a DSL connection, this will be my last entry for a few days – but it doesn’t matter. I can tell you now what I’ll be doing: Parenting, writing, waiting…walking the grounds of our new home.

Yesterday I watched $500-$1,000 worth of my music collection get squished and splintered on Highway 129, when it flew off the roof of my car at 60 mph (While moving, I left the c.d. case up there by accident). A 30-foot streak of shrapneled glitter strewed down the road as SUV after SUV barreled down on my discs. Eleanor was with me, watching me watch in horror as my music went down the existential drainpipe.

Also yesterday a local celloist named Heather McIntosh agreed to compose the score for an experimental film I shot two years ago. This is very good news. A funny thing is that she was recently invited by Gnarls Barkley to join their band as their bass player. I saw her at Chase Street Storage yesterday. She was holding two huge ceramic squirrels that she was very proud of. I said, “Congratulations. But my c.d.’s just got demolished on Prince Ave.” She said “Aw, man. No way.” Totally.

Maybe I’ll go out and get doughnuts for the Big Move.