where the writers are
No Kerouac or Thompson on redroom?
This is an offensive picture!

I hate to be critical (okay, not really, I love to be critical, but I am always working on that), but have any of you noticed that the redroom homepage appears to be a "little sterile"? Is it just I, or does it seem like maybe there is some secret formula that needs to be applied, some specific writing secrets used, to get on the redroom homepage? I mean there does seem to be diversity in the authors, types of writing being done, etc... but something is missing. Some kind of creative sparking or... I don't even know what it is, so it's hard to talk about it!

If Kerouac and Hunter S. were alive and well, if they hadn't off'd themselves (the gun is obvious, but the alcoholism may be iffy on some folks eyes), would their blogs make the redroom homepage? Would anybody want to read unbelievable stories about wild, sober trips to Vegas or an old man's non-DT hallucinations experienced in the middle of the big sur woods? Would they be able to actually use swear words and not feel compelled to write f**k, sh%%, and G*SH D#RN? Would Jack and Thompson offend or compel, take risks, be supported, or simply bore the crud out of this with their new found adventures of aging, like "On The Road (to the Proctologist) Again" or "Fear and Loathing of the Nurse who refuses to up my morphine drip after the hip replacement".

 Would thoughts on Buddhism, the dharma, and dying be so popular as to really be passé? Would the police finally show up on a doorstep in Colorado to do a real search for drugs like cardiac medications, anti-depressants, and prescribed opiates? Would beautiful aging women still lead on and support Jack, letting him lie around their apartments aged and naked all day? Would the Kentucky derby be covered properly again ...or perhaps would playboy publish thoughts on the dimwitted media machine that tries to shove less then intelligent icons into our lives with such flourish? Even as said icons appear naked between its sheets?

I am rambling, but it's not that I feel out of place here on redroom, or as if I even have the skills or aptitude of these masters (I wish, obviously!). I think my issue is that I am bored and wanting something new and powerful to emerge. I want to see, I guess, a newly formatted way of presenting authors. I want the struggles of writers to be honored and creativity to be celebrated in everybody's efforts. And I want the old writers to gently creep back from the other side, into our psyches, and continue to inspire us, foster our future, support the new sustainable ways and arts that might emerge.

I want something and I don't know what it is or how to get it. I want the strange, the beautiful, the truth, and the challenges.  I want tragedy and joy, stories of advesrity overcome or not, tragedy, comedy, darkness, and light. I feel restless and hopeless and uninspired, like I am longing for something that is no longer there.

 I want to write my own stories of traveling, but they seem unoriginal... and really who cares about the flashing light on the smoke alarm and the $400/ night hotel's apathy about it interesting: who cares that they promised to send someone up and never did? Who cares that my kids cover themselves in dirt when we camp or that I let them hang outside the bar listening to their dad make music until 9 pm at night?

 My work: who cares that I have dealt with life and death and seen more naked humans in that context, to the point of realizing that the body is a perfect, heavenly, well designed machine that should be held as sacred and gifted from God?  Who cares that I get paid less for doing more and still make enough money to do anything pretty much that I want to do?

Who cares that life is uncertain, that parenting is hard, that everything changes, that I have been in love for obvert 20 years, that marriage has ups and downs, that seasons change, that school boards are strapped, women are still paid less then men for doing the same job, that I like to work out, or that are inter-related systems are unsustainable, unstable, and ultimately will be unprofitable on many levels? Okay, you may care, but do you want to read it here? Are you longing for information, truly interested, ready to take action, bored or something else? Does reading fill up your mind and time as a useful hobby, better then TV? Or would you and the world be better off just going out for a walk and doing some sit-ups, meditating, or doing some yoga?

 Let's do something... new, original, yet also old and comforting. Let's celebrate and mourn, laugh and cry, fall down and kick our little legs in tantrum, drink too much, laugh too hard, stand on our heads, do cartwheels, and lay in bed all day watching old movies and eating different kinds of chocolate and popcorn.

Let’s not drink any caffeine for a week, order a quad mocha or a double dirty chai and run up a mountain or naked on the beach. Let’s pull out our sewing machines and make purple velvet ruffle pants, with matching blue and purple tutus, and then paint stars on our shoes and have a drum circle loud enough to just barely annoy the neighbors. Let’s remember when we used to follow bands around the country but lets not do we did in our youth.

Let’s make it all new and old and emerging from the depths.