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Firebrick and wine red 1

Yo Shaw,

How goes? Long time no talk. I apologize profusely. My life has been — described in one word — outrageous. Things have been crazy, buddy, absolutely insane. Good crazy though, not bad crazy. I haven’t been tripping over my shoelaces or losing front teeth or forgetting to take off my shirt before showering. I’ve been teaching Monday through Saturday (sometimes nine hours a day, not including travel time), then coming home and first writing my blog, then the school blog, then working on Space Tigers and, for Octopus Ink, activity pages and lesson plans and presentation outlines and twitter blurbs and Facebook updates and, somewhere in the midst of this, emailing friends and family, reading, playing the harmonica, exercising, joking with Jimi, eating, sleeping, and attending to personal hygiene.

Imagine a caveman tweeting on Twitter. That’s what it’s like for someone as technologically challenged as I am. I don’t even know what’s going on or why I’m doing it or what it means. It reminds me of the days I ate meatloaf because my mom said it was good for me, which, at the time, was irrefutable wisdom. Similarly, whenever I tweet on Twitter, I feel like I’m pounding my prehistoric chest and expressing the equivalent of, “Me, Scott.”

Why I say this is “good crazy” is because it’s life and I’m living it: Octopus Ink, Bach cello suites, Italian gelato (not to mention mozzarella di bufala) and a sweet, beautiful wife I’m in love with.

But the thing, Shaw, and the reason I’m writing, is that though I’ve been running around like a lunatic on fire, I still find the time, every day, to remind myself that I’m alive and to appreciate it. Just as evening starts setting in, when the sunlight slices over the edges of buildings, casting shadows and defining colors like burnt sienna, cinnamon, cocoa, coral, salmon, copper rose, coffee, eggplant, firebrick and wine red, though I may be darting for the tram, racing for the metro, or bolting after the bus, I soak it up as part of my experience of being alive.

No, it’s not always fun, but it’s always funny afterward, and I still find time to stop, think, remember, and keep it all in perspective. Everyday I read, write, play the harmonica, joke with Jimi, listen to Bach or Beethoven, Davis or Brubeck, The Doors or Pink Floyd. That’s it = life. And (most of the time) I love it.

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  1. Patrick says:

    You’re right Scott, whenever you tweet on twitter, you are expressing the prehistoric equivalent of “Me, Scott”, yet with a difference: the message isn’t addressed only to your fellow cavemen, because it has the potential of reaching a global audience.

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