Just a bit to blog about. . .

. . .today.  I finished TISHA AND THE GIANT this afternoon.  I think this is the third time I finished it.   I think it will be the last, save for a few changes here or there as I do the final re-read.  Of course, 5 years in the making doesn't begin to rival another novel I wrote (am writing), which is currently titled NO, DUH!  That has been 20+ years in the making.  TISHA topped off at about 285 pages, definitely the longest of my writing projects. Although if I wanted to, I could create a Collected Works Volume of my plays, and that sucker would be, my goodness, more than 700 pages long.

I am suffering from a minor writer's ailment.  Too much typing makes Greg's shoulders ache.  But big deal, to mix a metaphor sort of, Beethoven was deaf and Homer was blind, so what are a couple of sore shoulders?

Our mortgage was officially paid off today.  That is a rite of passage I will gladly experience.  We went to Borio's for dinner to celebrate.  Great view, outside seating, but so-so food.  "Borracio" in Italian means "drunk."  I wonder if "Borio" means only slightly drunk?

Question to the psychology devotees among you:  I was just rereading what I had written, and I discovered in the fourth sentence that I had typed "revile" instead of "rival" in the phrase "to revile another novel I wrote."  Is this a Freudian typing slip suggesting that I revile the aforementioned novel because I have spent so much friggin' time on it.  Could be?

Tomorrow we are having lunch with my old friend and fraternity brother John Birchler and his wife Amy.  For those who remember TV KIDS, I was not in Beta O.  I was in Alpha Lambda Chi.  I haven't seen John in 25+ years.  My most vivid memory of Johnny B. is a vision from my back.  We were playing for the League II Flag Football Champion.  Until the final game against Alpha Pi Alpha, we were undefeated and unscored upon.  In the waning seconds of that classic tilt, I long snapped the football to Jerry Calvario who set it.  I promptly got knocked to my back knowing Johnny B was about to kick it.  From the ground I watched the 40 yard field goal attempt fly through the air and. . . split the uprights!  Bedlam! Joy! Youthful foolishness and exuberance!   I bet we'll talk about that tomorrow.