- I come up with something startlingly brilliant that I am sure will win whatever is the blogging equivalent of a Pulitzer. Or at least snag me a comment or two.
- I try my best to develop a lame, half-assed idea into something tolerable and somewhat amusing.
- I find myself unable to think of anything and pray for the baby jesus to give me a sign or at least allow a celebrity sex tape leak at which point I can act indignant and pretend I didn’t watch it.

On any given day I’ve got an equal chance of these three options playing out. But when the third thing happens, I consult my notes. I have an extensive supply of lame ideas that I write down and forget about precisely because they’re lame. I hunt them down when I’m desperate and hope to wring some brilliance from their excessive crappyness. (Aside: My spell check apparently has no clue how to spell crappyness so this is not the fault of the panic-stricken, hurried author.) Last night was one of those times. When I looked, however, the well was pretty much dry except for one hastily scrawled note.

For those of you who can’t read my writing – poison microwave birds. I have no idea what this means. Absolutely none. I think it could refer to the birds that live outside our house where the microwave is vented. But it’s equally possible that I’m a brainwashed Jason Bourne type person who’s memory of a burned out African village will return and these three words will somehow save humanity. Or its a shitty band name I came up with after a few beers and a couple hours of VH1′s Behind The Music.

Any ideas?

After nine years, it’s time for me to say goodbye.

There are any number of reasons but first and foremost, life is changing and so are my priorities. Several months ago, Beth and I pooled all the resources we could scrounge up and bought a business. Actually, the remains of a failed restaurant in a questionable part of town. But after months of hard work, more paint that you can imagine and some strong, industrial pesticide, we’re opening the area’s first vegetarian soul food restaurant next month. In anticipation, I quit my job last week. Sure, the economy sucks but through the past year talking with people I know we’re filling a strong niche and have every chance of being successful.

I’ve also spent the last several weeks practicing with Turn It On Again, a Genesis tribute band founded by a good high school buddy of mine. We’re trying to capture the essence of Genesis’ shows from 1978 to 1992 and are confident that there’s an audience out there. We played our inaugural show last weekend to dozens and are booked into the area’s prestigious Larry’s Rib Joint in early May before playing the grand opening of the new restaurant. Look us up if you’re in town.

Before I sign off, I want to thank you all for reading. You’ve invested hours, days, months over the course of these nine years following my ramblings, well-written or not. And I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope you’ll keep up with me on Facebook and maybe drop by for some vegetarian soul food the next time you’re in town.

Okay, so I realize that it’s April 2nd, not actual April Fool’s Day but I don’t write on Sundays. It’s god’s day. I rested.