I. HATE. SOCKS.

"You have a bank of stories don't 'cha?" he asks sipping his beer.

"What do you mean?" I reply with my bare feet leaning in the window of "Fannies on the Beach" staring at the beach.

Eying me suspiciously he continues, "You write new stuff every day?"

"I do," I answer moving my feet from the window to my favored dangling position on a high stool.

"So on the days you don't feel like writing," he pushes, "you have extras laying around and use one of them."

"Nope," I answer ordering another Chard-on-ice-in-a-Styrofoam.

"It takes me forever to write," he sighs.

"Yeah," I agree sticking my bare feet back in the sunshine pouring through the large plate window with the view of the ocean, "some morning's it takes me forever too."

"MORNINGS!" he erupts. "It takes me weeks to finish a song."

"Some days I get up knowing exactly what it's going to be," I continue, "but a lot of times I have to sit and wait."

Like now.

It's a crappy, non-inspiring day.

After a wonderful weekend with Sarah and the girls in the warmth of Florida, it's cold and those damn Weather Forecaster people are saying it's going to get worse.

Sarah's at work ... the girls are off at school ... the kids are scattered ... and I'm in a funk about it all.

"I bet you're wearing socks and hating every minute," is the post on Facebook by Sarah's soul sister Aaron, "and hating every minute of it."

It makes me smirk ... sitting with bare feet dangling over Goddess's fur ... she doesn't know me yet ... but we're already friends.

"AH," I say to myself, "INSPIRATION! ... I. HATE.SOCKS!"

I respond which leads to a lovely back-and-forth exchange ... complimented by our friend Matt Few ... who knows what a Handle is ... which a question for me ... "Who in the Hell would want to know what a Handle is?"

There is no backlog of these offerings.

This one happened just as it's spelled out with no "creative license" (my wife is going to be so proud of me)!

Thank you Aaron for the inspiration.

Thank you Matt for knowing things I never want to know.

And to conclude ... I haven't worn a sock in a year or so ... and in the last job interview I was in they pointed out that I wasn't wearing socks.

"And your point is?" I ask.

They didn't have one.

I didn't get the job.

But even in this crappy weather, Sarah keeps my heart hot ... which keeps my feet warm.

So there you go ... that's how I write ... where the inspiration comes from ... in real time with no bank or backlog.

I wish it was inspirational.

The point is ... I suppose ... if there is a point ... is ... it's easier to be inspired and write if you're barefoot.