Never Trust A Pantsless Rocker

Never trust a pantless rocker 

Just a good thing to keep in mind, right? I'm sitting in my dining room listening to my son trying to master "Guitar Hero." We spent about 10 hours in the car this week driving back and forth between the house and the McWane Center -- worm camp and rock camp.

I took it upon myself to use this time to get a bit into education about guitar heroes. And no, I am not proud of the fact that he took to Guns 'n Roses. We talked about Jimi and Clapton, and I made a note to think about deeper tracks for the next week I'm home and we're driving to camp.

This one was difficult. I struggle with the wonderful things that are happening and the all-out terrible ones. They both happen at once.

I keep writing and editing, both at work and at home. Each day I labor over 300 words each day in the creative nonfiction class. Tonight, once I got home and packed I wrote a 1,000 word essay.

That's a whole lot of words, even for someone who lives in this space.

Tomorrow I head to Yale for a weeklong immersion in magazines.

Maybe we'll make aluminum foil jet packs. Maybe I'll find a way to write a great sentence and edit a great sentence.

Maybe I will just keep on rocking on.