Jury duty. That'll do it.
The mortgage that is past due and the job that is taking too long to generate commission income- no. That won't do it.
The two step kids who hate me and my two babies who are feverish and snotty at home with a wife that I continue to discover has almost as dark of a past as myself- no. That won't do it either.
Jury duty will though. Juror 172. That's me today.
I haven't been here for almost five years- I mean, I've been here, I just haven't left anything worthwhile to show that I've been. Lurking. Waiting for the perfect moment. Blocked. Writer's constipation.
Jury duty. Its an important responsibility.
In the past five years, shitty boots and sweaty hats, horses, cattle and rattlesnakes, smoke filled bars, married women, pistols and fist fighting have given way to suits and ties, insurance and securities licenses, Sunday school classes, and meals planned by the Mormon church.
No more women, no more wine. All I hear is 'double-time'. My dad used to sing that in a drill sergeant voice when I was little. He used to say crazy shit like that all the time. But that one best fits my life.