Lengthy (you were warned):
On Sunday, I depart for the west coast for a two week tryst, starting in Vancouver, BC and ending in Phoenix, AZ. I’m pretty pumped for it, as outside of both of my competing IWPS appearances (Vancouver and Berkeley respectively), I’ve never performed west of Denver. As I’m been doing this for a little over four years, some may say it’s about time, but now feels about right. If I’ve got any buyers remorse on booking this tour its that I’ll be away from my wife for the longest duration since Bazalicious and I embarked on our mini East Coast/Midwest Tour in March ’08. That tour included everything from a Worcester Flojo, a fan with a face like the Brooklyn-Queens Express, a polka dancing Vampire and the longing comfort of Ms. Bouliane every step of the way, so there’s no way I could ‘top’ that experience. So I’m counting on the amazing peeps of these amazing scenes to be my comfort food while they indulge me for 20 minutes at a time at their local watering hole. With a microphone. Or not.
I must say though, I’m treating this as a working vacation. I have copious amounts of shit to get done (or at least plan to get done). It’s funny how you don’t know you’re at a crossroads till you’ve been sitting by the same yard marker for two months. Writing Wrongs and its future has taken up an inordinate amount of my brain capacity of late. What are our goals? Short and long term? I’m proud of it, but how proud? Not broke don’t fix it proud or just the tip of the iceberg proud? Part of the problem may be that the ‘we’ of Writing Wrongs is in actuality ‘I’. The pros of sculpting your scene around a younger demographic (as in high school and college students) far outweigh the cons, BUT one con is that everyone seems to be in transition and therefore unable to take a true ownership in contributing to the night when outside of hitting the mic. We’re going into the winter and in Columbus that means everybody with insecurity is going to be starting their own Open Mic. Regardless of how long these ankle biters last, it’s the fool that thinks fools are to be completely ignored. I refuse to the stale open mic where the same 8 people hit the open mic, the same 6 people make the slam team for 6 years. So I’m always up for evolving something, even if it currently works. I would love to be part of a committee or brain trust as opposed to being the man, but in reality, I’m just bouncing my ideas off of people who’s opinions I trust, but have had minimal exposure to the actual workings of a poetry night outside of myself to offer a valid and different perspective. We won’t even mention the fact that I’d rather run the youth night every week. Anyways. Then there’s me. What exactly do I do next? I’ve had a fresh pine casket under my bed for slam for a few years now (guess that doesn’t make it so fresh) and will probably put it in the ground officially after ’10, but I would like it to show for something other than saying I got to feature at Bumfuck College of Arts in Bumfuck, OH. The possibilities are actually there. Do I dive back into theatre and bring this one-man show to fruition? Try to get on with an agency? Keep plugging away at my non-profit? MFA program? Back to school? (Ugh). Back to a corporate gig, ya know, back when I made good money? (Ugh-squared). I really don’t know, but I guess that’s a luxury of creating options for yourself early and having an amazing wife that allows you to sort thru the falling feathers.
So outside of doing a lot of thinking or soul searching if you will, I do have actual work to do. The checklist is as follows:
1) Writing: I haven’t wrote a poem in a while. On purpose. Tons of ideas floating in the head, so no writer’s block, just letting it manifest in these walls. I’ve been saving them for this road trip, hoping the environment will help put a little coloring in the work. An experiment, we’ll see how it works out. I’ve also got a at least 3 essays I’ve been contemplating on that I want to finish (Should arrogance really be separated from the art, Dancing for the all black poetry audience and How to host a successful Open Mic). So the goal is at least 7-10 fully birthed poems (of varying lengths) and 3 essays.
2) Reading: No poetry books allowed for this trip. I’d like probably one Biography and a couple of good fiction joints. I’ve got a couple already, but I’ll take suggestions if you’ve got them.
3) Personal Health: So here’s the thing, I don’t plan on eating meat for this two week trip. Now, poet friends, before you scoff like that ain’t shit, I’d like you to keep in mind, I’m a carnivore. Straight up. Maybe when you were a dinosaur, you watched the meteor hit you thru a Triceratops’ eyes. Me, I was the Raptor that probably just got done digesting your cousin. I’m just sayin. At any rate: I’ve been a step away from going vegetarian for a while and eat about ¼ of the meat that I used to. Sadly, this is not for any political statement. I’m cleansing or shedding if you will. My rules are pretty simple. Water in place of…everything liquid. No meat. And very little pasta. I’ve went spells before without eating meat, but I’m also a former college athlete with a muscular frame that weighs 210+. Asking me to take meat out of my diet is like putting a solar panel the size of a postage stamp on an Escalade and telling it to run on Sun rays and not gas. But I’ve found some new tactics to supplant my energy, so we’ll see how it goes. Poets, I’m holding you accountable. If we’re eating together in Seattle and you see me eyeballing the cheeseburger, it’s your job to smack the menu out of my hand. I promise to laugh and not, ya know, break your wrist or anything. And I’ll be working out. Everyday. Unfortunately, I won’t have my kettle bell with me since that would take up 30lbs of my 70lbs suitcase requirement, I’ll be coming armed with jump rope, stretch bands, and new running shoes. I promise not to get my swole on in your living room at 4 am. Unless you’re up too.
4) And oh yea, do some bomb ass shows. I’ve always assumed that East coast was my second home because NYC and I fit together like poets and anti-depressants, but that isn’t really fair since I’ve made seldom trips to the Left Coast since I started doing poetry. So have at it Pacific peeps, make me miss you when I’m back at home in overcast Columbus, OH while the snow falls in February.
For those interested, here are the dates I’ll be out there. If there’s anything else I can hit, let me know now before I finalize all my travel between the cities:
Dec 7th: Vancouver Poetry Slam @ Café Deux Soleils
Dec 9th: Seattle Poetry Slam @ Spitfire
Dec 10th: Everrett, WA @ Zippy’s Java Lounge
Dec 13th: San Francisco Poetry Slam
Dec 14th: San Jose Poetry Slam
Dec 16th: Bezerkeley Slam
Dec 17th: Black Pearl Tempe, AZ
Dec 18th: Black Pearl Phoenix
Dec 18th: Phoenix, AZ (TBD)
Dec 19th: Phoenix, AZ (Details TBD)
Seriously, without a prolonged amount of mush, meeting Leah years ago (let alone marrying her in September) was the kind of life altering experience you wish for. And life was pretty damn good before I met Leah, but now, it seems so dismal to think what might have happened had we not crossed paths. 
