Since the end of February, when I came home late on a Sunday
night and found a “Get The Fuck Out” notice taped to my back door, I have had
to kind of think about what I’d long put off: finding a new home.
I’m talking buying, because honestly, renting was not an
option. I was damned lucky to rent on the cheap for so many years, and I can
imagine the obscenities raining down from the hill when the guy who bought from
my landlady saw it. But I think he also knew pretty damned well what he was
getting.
House hunting is an art, and one that ideally takes months,
if not years. Well, most of us don’t have that time.
After false starts, costs, and insanity of varied kinds, I
did move in back in mid-April, and but numerous issues arose which scared off
one lender and bank.
One of the wonderful mysteries was the actual owner: I
thought we knew the owner. Then we find the owner lives in Spain.
Who then, am I dealing with? Well, it was the broker, who for
whatever reason put his name on the deed, and had to go get that off.
Not uncommon, but one more thing.
Numerous inspections, examinations, a carpet that looks like
someone was ritually murdered on it, and inability to deal with certain things
let me in, but also let me not do everything I wanted to do.
Well, that is something I can work around.
Look there, a house! It’s really pretty cool. Airy, cool
temps, lots of space, the cats dig it, and I can work about stuff.
Space will still be an issue, and I have a couple of
long-running, daunting tasks but I can do them. It will take time.
I do enjoy my neighbors. I have them again. I have blocks of
them, and most of ‘em are pretty nice people. Things get interesting late at
night, because people like to hang outside.
And…they are at times loud. I mean LOUD. FUCKING LOUD.
But it comes with the territory, and I don’t honestly mind. How it is.
What else?
Well, I am busy this month, with appearances in support of “A
Moment in the Sun.” Last weekend, the Dharma Fools appeared in York at the
Rooted Artist Collective:
Pretty
cool, eh? Neat little artistic corner place, operated by Dustin Nispel and his
merry band…fantastic artwork, jewelry, writings, and both of my books are up
there. We are here:
There’s
a brief blog about the band thing. Nice to see York cooking again when it comes
to the arts scene, and I was very happy to get to meet more of those folks.
I’m
gonna be busy this weekend, if you’re in the Camp Hill area, come out to the
Barnes & Noble on 32nd Street:
The
first ever of these is a nationwide thing. I’ll be there Friday night to hawk “A
Moment…” and to meet, greet, and sign books and stuff.
Sunday,
I’ll be there again for an afternoon session, which I think will involve
discussions. Ought to be fun, network with the reading public and the authoring
types.
Leads
us to the 16th, when I’ll be in Mechanicsburg for the annual
Jubilee. Sunbury Press Books, my publisher is on the drag, and a bunch of us
will be out front of 105 S. Main Street to show what we’ve got.
Also
had a talk with Larry Knorr, my publisher. We are leading up to the release of
my next book…it might be THIS ONE…
And
of course, all this while holding down a job (two jobs in fact), taking care of
the house, trying to have a life (hah!) and also restarting my radio program.
Oh yes, that:
There
is also a Radio-Airwaves app! Get it via Google Play.
DJ`Riff,
my musical alter ego got back on a couple weeks ago, and “The Music Club” is
going alright. My times, are floating right now, because of the way the
business is going, I still have to work. Check my Facebook and Twitter pages
for updates. Oh, and that:
@ToryGates
is my handle for Twitting.
I
am foot to the floor, still…but on certain levels, I’m not sorry. But I have
run into things w/o completely thinking on them, and that’s my nature. I have
to brake sometime; but there is so much in life to do.
Muhammad
Ali’s passing left behind many quotes, and I don’t mean trash talk. Best one:
“Don’t count the days, make the days count.”
Leave
you with that.
Peace,
Out.
