Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Blast from the Past Copy & Paste Posties with Sleep Apnea

Speedcat Manhatten Hollydale Nice suite and hat
This is the city, and the city was tepid to my aspirations.

You can give your best shot at something, and find that it was just not enough. The world can chew you up and spit you out like a bad piece of gristle in a BBQ sandwich. I guess I knew that, but never expected to feel such turmoil and defeat. As I stood on Broadway my inner reflections seemed to go back to the start of it all ....

My big break came in 2004 when the New York Times noticed my journalism skills. They were reading my blog and liked what they saw. To my surprise, an offer was made, and I excepted. Within two weeks I had moved to a small loft apartment and begun my incredible journey into the realm of business reporting. Things were good, and I bought 38 new custom tailored suits, each with a custom hat to compliment each jacket. I looked the part, played the part, and WAS the part. Then she walked into my life

She was tall, brown eyed, and quick witted. The moment I layed eyes on her I was smitten, and fully captured in her strong presence and beauty. Charming?? ... that was not a strong enough word for her. She was magnetic, and invigorating. I never knew just how we became a couple. It seemed my suits may have been the biggest draw. Well, that and her desire to be featured in my daily column. You can already guess I did write that article, and it propelled her career in the fashion industry to epic proportions. Magazine covers and television appearances were soon to follow. Slowly she drifted out of my life, and my heart left with her. I was empty, like a spilled glass of whisky on the bar.
The New York Times also noticed my new void of ingenuity, and writers block was now my best friend. My last and final article was called, "Life, who gives a shit" .... I was fired that day.
So, here I am standing on Broadway with a twenty dollar bill and a plane ticket. "Back to Hollydale" for this Speedcat.

Dreams? Now I only have them in my sleep, and even they are interrupted by my heavy snoring.


Hollydale airport of broken dreams