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*Warning* Christopher John Campion uses adult language and discusses adult situations.
Poppin' my cherry on this here bloggity thing. I've never blogged before or ever even remotely had the urge. Don't get me wrong. I can be as blustery and opinionated as the next but I'm just not into this whole "constant communication" deal that alotta people are so jazzed up about. I'm not a Blackberry or iphone guy and really don't wanna be tethered to the world every Goddamn second of the day, talking, texting, emailing, and blogging, which is...ummm...uh...what I'm doing right now, I guess. Shit, that hurt. I'm a blogger. Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation as an incorrigible fuckup to protect.
It's 2:20 in the morning and I'm currently pacing back and forth reading aloud from my book, Escape From Bellevue:A Dive Bar Odyssey that's being published by Gotham Books on March 19th. I got a big reading/ book signing/concert thingee with my band, Knockout Drops (I'm the lead vocalist) the following night at a venue called 92YTribeca here in New York City. It's already sold out and I'm really psyched about that but also a tad nervous. I'm no stranger to unhinged jack-ass-ery from behind a microphone (it's actually part of my stock in trade), but I've never had to read composed stuff to three hundred people before. "Tis a bit daunting, I won't lie, so I'm just up practicing trying to get comfortable with it.
I'm also riffing out loud in between readings trying to hatch some shtick for the gig. I'll lay even odds that my neighbors all think I'm back on the sauce and home from the bar to give "the walls a talking." I used to do that all the time when I drank (might've even blogged too. Who the hell knows?). Right now I'm reading from the chapter "Relationships and Rodeo clowns" where I get hijacked (willingly) from a boring wedding in Charleston, South Carolina by a bunch of gacked-up rodeo clowns and brought back to their shanty town for an all-night deliberate freak-out. I'm voicing all these southern clowns at their designed atomic levels. I was trying to be quiet at first but they're all so amped up and loud in the story that it's hard not to get carried away. Through the walls it probably sounds like an episode of cops or an explosion at a Tallahassee, Florida meth lab.
You're not gonna believe what just happened. A huge waterbug just dropped down from the ceiling! You know, those cockroaches that look like they're on steroids? Saw one last night too. He's stationary on the kitchen floor right now lookin' pretty fierce---like he doesn't even care that I've spotted him. Gonna try to get him. Damn!!! Missed! I side swiped him with a newspaper but must've only stunned him. I coulda sworn he shot me one last defiant look before he scurried under the fridge (the same spot he retreated to last night). I think I'm gonna call him, "Osama Bug Laden," and the refrigerator area, "Tora Bora." But I'm not gonna let my failures on the bug battlefront kill my momentum here. Back to reading aloud, kids. Hope to meet you at one of the shows. If not, I'll be in touch with my next blogapalooza. I can't believe I'm a blogger now. I have to admit I had fun, though. Was it good for you? Later gators.....
Love,
Chris
Christopher John Campion, 
Escape from Bellevue, 
Gotham Books, 
Penguin Books
