haircuts and rock and roll

Sometimes I write and know exactly what I'm going to say. Thoughts swirl around my head for a day or two, and then the opportunity finally comes to put them down on paper. Or plasma screen. Whatever.

Other times it's as if there's almost no thought. No reason to write. Self-loathing times. Doubt sets in.

Go see a movie, I say. And that helps. I saw Little Miss Sunshine the other day and loved it. Like perfect antidote to my foul mood, I felt rejuviated and alive. I could walk in the night air, breath it in and find some reason to put one foot in front of the other.

Music used to do it for me. There was usually a new cd or some classic record I could put on and I'd feel great. Or at least occupied. Lately the music doesn't sound so good. A lot of it sounds the same to me. Pale imitations of earlier giants. Too much focus on haircuts, and not enough on tunes.

Dylan still sounds good to me. I'm very much looking forward to his new album. The guy will have something to say. He's unusual in that he always does, even when not trying to say anything.

I picked up my guitar the other day. I'm thinking about writing some songs. But I haven't had a haircut in three months, and I'm not sure what to say.