Yes, it’s true. Dry those eyes, Daddy’s back! Back from beyond the sun and burnin’ up your computer screen. Did you miss me? But of course you didn’t. You’ve all been busy, living your lives, gettin’ it done, taking care of the business. Plus, you’ve had Pete and Elron coming at you with all sorts of awesome RRH stuff in my absence, you’ve barely had time to compute the change.
Travel is an amazing thing, isn’t it? It teaches you things. Shows you things. Excites and inspires you. You can feel and do so very much that sometimes you are truly in awe of your surroundings. It really is something else, ol’ travel, whether you are one to appreciate the rich history of a place or if you prefer to admire feats of man’s own creations, the world out there will always have something to show you.
The other great thing about travel is time. In order to get there, you are often afforded an abundance of time. Time in commute. Time to wait for commute, too. Planes, trains and all other forms of transportation work on things called schedules, or timetables. So when you’re not having your socks blown right off by mother nature or big bustlin’ machine made goodness, you’ve got some precious minutes up your sleeve to reflect on what you’ve encountered and what lies ahead. Or, if like me you must provide written words to a higher power (RRH) in some semblance of order or structure, you’ll have to start thinking about things like blogs, podcast topics or even short stories and character development. Sure, it might sound like a ball lickingly good time, but when your mind is doing swivels because it’s laid witness to one of the worlds great wonders (a figure of speech, I didn’t actually get to see any wonders), then it can be difficult to devote yourself to an idea entirely.
As to not miss a beat, a single passing thought or idea, I purchased a blank book and pen to keep within my travelling grasp at all times. And do you know what I returned within those pages, dear friends? This:
Mic has a tall build.
He’s slender and vocal.
He stands alone, bathed in light and vulnerable.
Afforded attentions often undeserved.
Burdened by responsibility.
He craves retirement, a chance to live in peace, without human contact.
That’s right, I started writing a third person narrative about a microphone called fucking Mic! Because I, unfortunately, cannot be inspired when exhausted by inspiration itself. I’m a here and now kinda guy and Mic the goddamn microphone was the result of my forced need to satisfy the supply and demand. It’s funny but it isn’t funny funny. Know’m'sayin?
So young’uns, hear this and hear it now. Trust only that which is laid before thee. Don’t force creativity, be inspired by the good from the moments in front of you and if all else fails, take photos of signs that are euphemisms for your friend’s genitals.