I'll have coffee with anyone for 10 minutes. Just look me up if you're in San Francisco or plan to hang out in San Francisco.
Even if you have mental issues and stopped taking your medication. Ten minutes.
If you want me to sign a copy of my novel, let's make it a martini. Ten minutes.
Do you go on and on and on about the hope of Obama? Five minutes. Or two martinis and 10 minutes.
You think Sammy Hagar was good for Van Halen? Ten minutes and a sucker punch.
Even if you're from Portland, I'll give you 10 minutes.
Things we can discuss:
How John Travolta's career peak would have been the Look Who's Talking franchise if it weren't for Quentin Tarantino.
Or how Bruce Willis was also involved in that film.
The weather.
String Theory.
The ministry of MC Hammer.
Astrology.
How insulting it is to judge people by where they live.
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In all seriousness, you're welcome to have coffee with me if you're in San Francisco, and I'll try my best to get up to Portland sometime this year. I have a ten-minute rule. I let anyone in for 10 minutes. We'll see from there. Hell, you may want to run at five minutes, that's why I always bring something to read.
Writing and reading is about connection and I embrace connecting with people from various backgrounds. I've interviewed hundreds of people, mostly celebrities, but I confess there's more of a story from a guy who owns a liquor store on the corner, or a woman who works at a hair salon. You're all fascinating in your own way. We live in a bullshit tabloid society that gives too much credit to anyone who has the right publicist or agent. The man bagging my groceries has more guts than whomever Jennifer Anniston is dating.
Thank you, Powell's, for giving me some literary real estate here. Thank you, readers, for spending time on my words. I'm always writing for other outlets, so feel free to keep up at www.tonydushane.com. And, another novel is on its way.
But wait, there's more sap for you, as this is my last blog.
Nick Cave is my favorite singer and there's a song called "Abattoir Blues" that, for some reason, has been a theme for me for the last few months. Especially this one verse:
I wake with the sparrows and I hurry off to workThe need for validation, babe, gone completely berserk
I wanted to be your Superman but I turned out such a jerk
I got the abattoir blues... Right down to my shoes.