micro-payment of attention

Two open letters to my last two venues:

Dear Zoey's,
You are real nice to me. I had a damn fine time with you on Friday night. Jes Hudak sang real purty. Your renovations and cafe spot downstairs are perfect additions to your beautiful space. Let's do it again real soon.

Sincerely,
Xaque

Dear Hotel Cafe,
We done did it again. There were many old/new friends at you. Erik Kertes played his bass/face off at you. Joel the Martin and John the Wicks brought beautiful happy vibes to you/me/the audience. I salute you, and after I'm finished saluting you, I welcome our next encounter with open arms.

Sincerely,
Zack

Yes folks, I'm in the afterglow of a couple of darn fun concerts. What now? A busy week of writing, recording, and weaving (What? I don't know how to weave or bob, for that matter. Start making sense or I'm weaving!).

As you can deduce the caffeine is in full effect, and I don't feel the least bit bad about it.

I started reading James Michener's "Alaska" this weekend. 950 pages to go: better pack a lunch.

I think the reason that Twittering is such an addictive habit is because it's a micro-payment of attention. When I write a blog, I want to make it worth while (so I suppose now is as good a time as any to say "whoops, my bad!"). When I write a tweet, I can do it in line at the post office. I suppose I could approach blogs in the same way, but/yet I do not.

So what do I have to say that's worth while: the sun is shining in California and there are infinite possibilities. Let's go effect the outcome.