The Last Lap

Mopar, Bausch & Lomb, me, what could be more right? Not Polish though.

Been having some intense conversations with my wife and close friends. They agree it’s my fault I’m not better known. I should be a self-promoter. I should play better with others. (One guy left because he thought I was using him, like artists don’t do whatever they have to to get their art across.)

And they always somehow assumed that people would see, meaning they had no responsibility to say, “Hey! Look at this guy. He’s the best that ever was.” So they never did.

Even though I’ve changed countless lives with what I wrote. That was assumed, accepted, as if it was a private service I was offering.

It’s not. I write because I can’t not write. Doing it since I was a teenager. Don’t promote myself because I was never good at it. Doesn’t mean I don’t need money. Never passed the hat as a blogger. Did you notice? No. But I have just a few more years to put my writings in hard copy. So that they don’t die after I do. I’m very very lucky. My literary heroes died in their forties. I’m in my early sixties. But please try to start thinking about buying the books my wife and I will be producing.

You can start by buying The Boomer Bible and The Indictment: An Obama Diary, both available at The Lounge Conversations will be available soon.

Thank you.


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