I've been in bed for four days. I became ill from a couple of different things; a dose of stress, a touch of a flu bug, and a heap of exhaustion.

Gotta tell ya, laying in bed for that long ain't all it's cracked up to be. I kept thinking, "Man, I'd LOVE to lay in bed all day." Then, I get the chance, and it sssuuuucccckkkkkssss. I watched all the Oprah I could handle, Dr. Phil, and Ellen. I've had plenty of commercials, PBS broadcasting, and Dog the Bounty Hunter for a good long time.

In other news, the cement in my face is diminishing. The cold chills are abating . . . and the chripping morning birds aren't pissing me off so much.

All this just when I've come to a "new" perspective on my life. It's not so much "new" as revisited (again)(and again)(and again). Thing is, I just want to do what I'm doing the best I can do it. For so long, for so many of us, we make plans for that "eventuality" we hope for and dream and plan for. So, I've decided that this is it -- no more waiting. All that's left is to be the best at it I can be. Why wait for the rush hour traffic? Let's just all get on with "it" as if all our plans are in the present. No more of this, "One day, when I grow up" crap. It's on, baby. Carpe diem and all that.

But I've got to watch it, 'cause like I just said, I got sick from exhaustion. There are days when I'm on the go for about 18 hours straight moving from one thing to the next and watching the world out of the driver's side window of my truck. Sometimes a whole week will pass before I see my son. It's not uncommon to have about an hour's worth of relationship per week with my wife.

Want to know something? There's nothing more that I'd rather be doing than living this life. I hope everything I just wrote doesn't come off as if I'm complaining. I'm not. Just the opposite is true. I don't think I can ever fully express the appreciation I feel for having the opportunity to live the life that I do. I mean, I can play the freaking guitar, man. And people pay me to teach them to play the way that I play, and people pay me to come play at their club or restaurant, or people pay me for the chance to own my CD and hear me whenever they want. I can compose songs and lyrics and people tell me how pleased they are with my art. I mean, get real, dude! This life freakin' rocks!

This is the reason I say that if it weren't for you, I wouldn't do what I do. That's true for any of us. If you weren't there to let me, and people like me, hold a mirror up to the world we live in and tell stories about it, there would be no jobby-job.

Ok. I'm tired. I need to get back to resting. Mainly, I wanted to tell you, "Thank You."

Oh . . . . and that I love you.

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