Early morning musings...

Here it is, twenty minutes or so until 3am and I can't sleep.

You might be surprised to know what a boon this is to creativity. 

Actually, it's both a blessing and a curse.  I can sit here and bore you to death about my life and other things going on but I won't.  Unless you know me beyond my words here, that is to say...you know me in the real world...most of what I cobble out here is meaningless to you.

If you made it this far,  I'll continue.   What the hell, eh?

Since I fancy myself a writer, or more accurately, a reporter, I'd find myself at a loss for things to report.  I'm talking about sports, and there is a decided hole between the end and the beginning of hockey season.  When I began the journey to attempt being a paid sports reporter we had a glut of pro sports to cover in Tulsa.

Hockey,  arena football,  women's basketball... There was continuity throughout the year in which I was happily watching and reporting on the game of the day,  from ice to to hardwood.  It was a far cry from my younger days when it was the Golden Hurricane or Oral Roberts and the big universities downstate.

Now professional sports is down to Oilers hockey, Roughnecks soccer and Semi-Pro football. The latter of which I underestimated the staggered start of the seasons for each of the five seasons.  That's it.   For the last six years there was the Tulsa Shock of the WNBA, but after their one winning season in Oklahoma they fled to Dallas and left a big hole in my sports coverage for the year.

It was also a shitty thing to do to their loyal fans but I covered that in a previous entry.   I'm surprised I'm still bitter about that a year removed but I guess I had fun covering them despite all.

I guess the meaning behind this is that I need to get off my ass and make these words result in a paycheck.  A few minutes ago I was looking at a YouTube video of a good friend of mine who in the 30-odd years since we left both school has taken his bushel of lemons and turned it into the lemonade of a PHD at the University of Southern California.

A far cry from riding around in his Renault LeCar that had a first gear that was 18 inches wide sure to his brother speed shifting it.

But that's another story for another bout of insomnia.