“But, why?” ask my constant readers.  (And there’s a joke, because you can’t have constant readers if you don’t blog constantly.  AND . . . because I don’t have any constant readers.)

I’ve been working.  

I liked my job; I really did.  But I was pulling between 45-50 hours a week from April 2013 until 3 weeks ago.  I had ZERO free time to write, or to enjoy life at home with my wife and extremely furry family.  We were eating dinner at 9:30 and going to bed at 11, just to start everything up again around 6 am the next day.  The job paid well, and I made a friend whom I consider a best friend . . . but things had to change.

I had to do something, so I kept applying and applying for other, more professional positions.

I’ve been asked why I even have a blog, since I don’t get paid for it and it seems worthless.  First, I write because that’s what I do.  A blog allows me to get ideas out.  To get the crap outta my head.

Better, a blog IS worth something.  I have a new job–which is a position doing writing.  And I wouldn’t have gotten the job if I hadn’t been blogging.  When my immediate manager got my application, he looked me up.  He liked my stuff online, and he appreciated the range of topics I wrote about.

I guess my point is, you can’t work and get ahead in a vacuum.  Where I was working is a closed system.  There was no air to breathe.  Where I’m working now–and I’m blogging again–allows an open system.  Freedom is a good thing.  So is getting home before six, and enjoying a quiet night with the family you love.

So, my amigas and amigos, I now have the chance to write regularly again.  That means, more book reviews–and I owe a bunch to the publishers who have been nice enough to send me books–and more of whatever it is I write about: football, Miami, anti-extreme right wing politics, comic books, art, wine, good food (even recipes), movies, business, the death of newspapers . . . and a lot of just plain, amalgamated bullshit.

Thanks for being my Facebook friends, and my friends in general.  And I hope you come along for the ride, because, in a very real sense, I feel like I just put a new sheet of 20 lb. into the typewriter and I just typed:

Chapter Two.