The other day I pull into the parking lot beside Benny's at 9nish in the morning and Monty Parks stands beside his car, playing guitar and singing to himself."Whatup?" I say.
Ignoring me, he finishes his song that nobody's listening to other than Monty.
He then helps me lug in sound equipment he's loaning us for Bar Church because we're too poor to have our stuff ... so like the first Christians we borrow, beg and steal and meet in borrowed places.
Monty leaves after we set up and Church has a righteous bodacious services with lots of Lesbians, people who don't know if they're coming to the Bar or leaving it, a few students, lots of coffee drinkers, lots of hungry people partaking of Potluck on the Pool Table and several families with kids.
I don't feel like writing today.
It sucks when I feel this way.
It was a crazy weekend ... Sarah and I had little time for one another ... because Tybee believes kids actually live here in an obligatory sort of way ... "There's plenty for kids to do here! Take them to the Beach! Or to one of the Bars!" ... so we mostly pass on the Tybee road carting our girls somewhere!
So Monday gets off to a rocky start sapping the creativity right out of me.
Meandering around the Back Deck, I'm restless and fidgety ... the music's not right ... the plants need water ... the dogs won't shut up ... and this one bird squawks instead of sings ... making me believe in the NRA in a momentary lapse of sanity.
Then the image of Monty pops in my head playing "real good for free" to himself on the sidewalk ... doing something nice ... for somebody else.
"I write for myself," I often say ... and it's true ... it's my way of processing, coping, venting, inventing or letting out.
But I also write for others for free.
I'm not sure if anyone heard Monty that day ... save Monty.
Hell I don't know if anyone's going to read this!
But each and every one of us was born to do something ... hopefully several things ... all grounded in love ... or selfishly making as much as you can for yourself ... or just trying to keep your head above water.
I'd rather be sitting here with Sarah, naked on the back deck, feet propped on the railing, holding hands, talking about things we've had no time to discuss.
Instead I'm writing.
Sarah's in town working.
Monty was playing.
Each doing something we were born to do.
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