You’ll probably read this and think I’m writing about someone else. The truth is, I’m always writing about you. I sprinkle the text with words that’ll twist your path. But you’ve been on my mind a lot. And while you may or may not read this and while you may or may not get this, the truth is I still need you in my life.
And it’s funny. It’s really funny, actually, how much of a coward I am even though I put up this front that I’m not. The urge to move forward only sends me back a few steps. I just thought you should know that you’re still on my mind. And that you are still important in my life no matter where we stand. And nothing can erase the memories we share, the empty moments of idle conversation that we had.
It’s probably because Kerli seems to live in Second Life in real life that I like her so much. Or maybe it’s how she infuses bubble gum pop with the Victorian goth ensemble. I don’t know, but I truly enjoy her music. The station I created for Pandora, however, I can live without. No matter, I’ve crammed her songs into my phone to keep me busy while I work.
And now that I’ve segued into the subject of work, I have to say that meeting Jose Canseco – yes, the Jose Canseco – has left me disillusioned. Not that I ever was celebrity crazy, but he was a figure-head from my childhood. It was how my brother and I bonded when he wasn’t shoving me into closets, causing massive years of anxiety.
But the greatest disillusionment comes not from my short experiences of Canseco, but those non-experiences of one Geoff Vlcek. I’m no stranger to this name – G. Vlcek wrote to Wardell Starling of the Edinburg Roadrunners. Unlike Canseco, Starling replied to Vlcek’s request.
Currently, Canseco plays for the United League Baseball team, the Laredo Broncos. And I’m sure we all know the reason he’s playing for a minor league team and not that of a major league, but we won’t get into that. I delivered the letter myself – like the one I delivered to Starling – because it’s my job that the players get mail. However, this was the first time a visiting team gets fan mail. And like Starling’s letter, this one also contained a baseball card and a request that it be signed.
Now, I get it. Baseball players – any celebrity, really – has the right to turn down a request for an autograph. They don’t owe us anything. But Canseco took the asshole route. Rather than sending the card back unsigned, he left it in his locker. I retrieved it, sadden that my childhood hero could be such an asshole. Rather than hunting him down with it to Harlingen, I’m going to return the card to Vlcek with a letter of apology. Not on behalf of Canseco, but from myself.
But the season’s almost over, leaving me pondering the what-nows. I can always go back to writing for extra cash to survive, or I can hitchhike across Texas, looking for work. Or I can do what I do best and read. Which I’ve done a lot of, and plan to do more of. Especially now that I’ve purchased my decadent late summer/early fall reads.
The moment I saw the cover for Please, Sir back in May, I knew I had to have the book. Of course, then I learned about the book released that same month by the same editor dealing with erotic tales of female submission. And, while I do like vanilla erotica, the decadent stuff is what really piques my interest. Having already read the first story in Please, Sir, I know this book is worthwhile.
Off to go read the second story. Probably with some Kerli playing in the background.