Erin

For more information on Erin Carere the singer, please visit:

For more information on Erin Carere the Hollywood screenwriter and actress, please visit:

Monday, November 30, 2015

Happy Birthday, Lucy Maud Montgomery!

Today, I opened my Facebook to discover this delightful doodle by Google doodler Olivia Huynh, posted by "Stuff You May Have Missed in History Class," which is a podcast I listen to regularly!



It's Lucy Maud Montgomery's 141st Birthday!

You can read what Google reported about LMM, or "Maud," as us uber fans call her, HERE:

If you don't know the delights of Lucy Maud Montgomery-

"Oh, Marilla, you don't know what you're missing!"

Most likely you have a cultural awareness of Anne of Green Gables, or as Carlo tells me she is known in Italy, "Anna da Cappelli Rossi." (Anne of the Red Hair.) You may have seen the CBC/ PBS movies staring Megan Follows or heard of Jonathan Crombie (aka Gilbert)'s untimely death last spring. Perhaps you are reading this blog because you are one of my childhood pen friends from across the globe, connected by a newsletter devoted to Anne, Maud, Emily of New Moon, Pat, the Blue Island, Victoria Magazine or baking vanilla liniment cakes.

Those of you who don't know this whimsical obsession of mine- those of you who know me as a powerhouse, or as an opera singer, or as a former rock singer, or as a writer of mystical memoir, or as a purveyor of raunchy and funny one woman shows, may now be going, "huh?"

Let me tell you just a little bit about why I love these books, this author, and what the books and their birth mother have meant to me over the years.

I first encountered Anne of Green Gables through the CBC/ PBS movie. PBS was not only one of the few channels we were allowed to watch at leisure as children, it was also one of the only channels we got in what was then a little house on the edge of a big forest (since replaced by housing developments.) I LOVED Anne and identified with her- constantly having adventures, and then constantly getting in trouble for being misunderstood for those adventures! I bought the books through my elementary school's book sales program. There used to be these little two or three page book catalogs (was it called Apple Books?) printed on newspaper style paper and you would pre-order the books for $1.25 or so. I DEVOURED the first Anne book and then began obsessively reading everything the woman ever wrote. Even in high school- I may have been writing essays on "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand (not a fan) or "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald (I am a fan) for A.P. English, but my free time was spent up in a tree or at the local coffee shop (JAVA JOINT!) reading Anne. (And King Arthur books, and others, but a lot of Anne.) As a teenager, I was romantic, poetic, deep, and although I had a group of friends, I really felt the most MYSELF as a lone wolf wandering through those disappearing woods.

The best trip I ever went on- with humble respect- was when my mother took me and my sister to Prince Edward Island, the native land of the esteemed author. We had so much fun peeking into craft shops, bookstores, and driving to remote parts of the island where the waters were wild. 

In college, the journals of LMM came out. It was, looking back, probably not the best idea to have been reading them at that time, for LMM suffered greatly from depression and many disappointments in life. She had such high ideals and so many aspects of her life seemed to fall short of those ideals. I shared that same problem in life- when a person has such an illustrious romantic imagination, and wants desperately to believe in the goodness- nay- GREATNESS- of oneself and others- then.... as a former life coach used to say, "Wanna be disappointed? Make an appointment." Meaning: attachment to outcome will disappoint you because it will so rarely go that way. Things will not look the way you THINK they should look. 

My shrink in rehab took away my Sylvia Plath books- ("Maybe best not to read the Bell Jar while you're going through this," Judy had said.) but I retained my LMM Journals.

Now, as an adult who has far surpassed those difficult times and replaced the wallow and misery with the sort of wisdom only pain can bring, and who looks for the opportunity ALWAYS in each obstacle, I understand why I loved Anne first, but TRULY loved Emily of New Moon, another of her heroines, more: 

Anne is what we would like to be. She looks always for the goodness and the possibility, and grows deeply into her own womanly wisdom despite great difficulties (being an orphan, being a red head, SPOLIER: losing a child.)

Emily is closer to our truthful experience of life as deeply sensitive, acutely aware, yet dreamy creators of story. 

What I aim to be now is THE STORY GIRL, Sarah Stanley, one who travels the world telling and writing her stories. Why? Because stories are how we feel ourselves back- or not- and therefore how we fathom what it means to be human.

The value and beauty of life, of nature, of relationships... In my heart and mind, I do feel that THESE are the things that will return humanity to a semblance of sanity. These are the things LMM offers with her characters and writing- heroines for us all to learn from, laugh with, feel delight and horror and comfort in.

That's what LMM has given to me.

That photo above is Prince Edward Island-
sure does give you a lot of "scope for imagination," eh?

“There's such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting.”
L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables  


Monday, November 23, 2015

Music Mondays: November 23rd, revisiting some oldies but goodies

Hey, y'all!

It's Music Monday!

I know we all have Adele's new hit, "Hello," in our heads, and if you didn't see the SNL Thanksgiving sketch about it, do yourself a favor and watch it!

But if you're looking for some more goofy fun, here's a little treat from me, directed by Joshua Dragotta. It's a sort of weird, burlesque comedy interpretation of the wonderful song "Zip" from Pal Joey.... 

 
 


Until next time- I'm hard at work finishing my websites (www.worldoferin.com) and prepping in the studio to record some songs for my 2016 Challenge!


 
 

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Music Mondays... on Tuesday!

Hey everybody!

So, the Akademia Music Awards recently honored my song, "Come Alive," and me, with the award for best pop/ rock song of the month!

http://www.theakademia.com/november2015_bestsong_poprocksoul3.html?utm_content=bufferec4d9&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer

'Soulful guitar riffs, gorgeous vocals and compelling lyrics make this song a pop rock knockout and make Erin Carere one to watch in the coming year.'

I am so grateful!






If you haven't heard

"Come Alive,"

you can hear it right here!




Thank you and more to come soon.

Have a lovely day!

Sunday, November 15, 2015

From hurt and anger and justifications, out of nihilism, and into love: my journey since the events of November 13th, 2015

Since Friday, I’ve been posting as many peaceful photos and articles exemplifying inclusion as I can throughout social media. Many of these were articles about France in particular, and about how Muslims around the world are grieving for the people victimized int he Paris attacks (as well as in Beirut.)

 I received a letter from someone who misread or misunderstood my intention and told me I was a racist for posting so many of these articles…. my intention is always love and solidarity and compassion and understanding. If ever someone thinks my intention is otherwise, I encourage that person to reach out to me so we can have an open minded and open hearted conversation about connection and deeper understanding. I am grateful for this misreading of my intentions, not because I can be understood by everyone, but because I believe in listening as much as I can, loving always, and rising up to an ideal of civility in discourse. Diversity is beautiful. Assumptions are dangerous. Conversation is encouraged. Love is all.



THE ABOVE is what I posted on Facebook, but I would like to add the following.

The events of Friday the 13th hit me almost as hard as the events of 9/11. I feared for the people of the world- honestly, for all people- for ALL people. Yes, all. Race, religion, color, creed, country of origin, country of destination, country of inhabitance, belief system, thinking, politics. All of us, all of you. For I truly love all of you.

And am I a nihilist? Sometimes. Do I get caught up in the anger at a world of violent idiots, in which group I include myself, for even our thoughts can lead to violence? I don't mean just the terrorist groups; I mean the systems that create such anger and hate in the first place. I don't mean just colonization, or even just patriarchy. I mean anger and frustration at the very existence of animals with sensitivity and violence and justification in the first place (humans.)

Well, actually, today? No.

Since Friday I have been stuck. Stuck in disappointment, sure. Anger, not as much. Sorrow, yes.

Stuck in my particular manifestations of my modern age, meaning, those issues and symptoms part and parcel to my "perceived" role in the universe.... let me be more clear.... a white, Scandinavian/ Scottish/ Welsh origin woman in her 30s who was born and raised in the middle of Minnesota who is auto-didactic, artistic, sensitive, driven and ambitious and now lives in Los Angeles, California but who has traveled the world in search of artistic and mystical meaning and truth.... so, I was stuck in my personal failures as an artist, my extra 15 or 20 pounds, my fears of who I really am and who we really are as people, my exhaustion, my boredom.... in short, the symptoms of "my" dis-ease in what I think is a moment of nihilism in the modern (2015) age as a stage in our own cultural evolution as a species.

Blech.

Today?

No more.

Today I am humbled by a stranger who, angry at his perception of my racism (although I maintain I was not being racist, but instead, trying to encourage people to STOP being racist... is acknowledging racism a racist act? A question for all us navel-gazers, to be sure!), wrote me a letter asking me to stop. I am humbled not because he misunderstood me or understood me but because he took the time to write.

It is easy to get angry.

It is easy to assume.

Today,

I seek to understand.

I seek to offer peace, love, and respect if not actual friendship. *Especially* with those folks with whom I do not agree. To those people, I especially reach out. Laugh away, or come join me for a cup of tea. I reach out to you anyway.

I seek to return to my work, the acts of creation, songs and writing and films of love and joy and understanding.

For myself, today, I recommit to love.

I had never actually left love,

I just got caught up in one particular way of showing it, and was left hurt by humanity.

Peace for us all.

Peace.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Veteran's Day Remembrances: Armistice Day, Poppies, and a trip to Europe where everything that could go wrong, did!

Happy Veteran's Day, American Vets,

which includes

My Dad, several of my uncles and cousins and grandfathers, and many friends.

My partner in life and crime is former military as well, but not US Military.

Still, I thank you all for your service!

This day, 11/11, has a lot of interesting memories for me.

My first recollection is more of Armistice Day, and of older gentleman selling poppies at Coborn's Grocery store, which was the main grocery store in my hometown in Minnesota. I always felt a little afraid of older men, but I remember one day, straggling behind my mother as we walked into the store, there were two older men (at the time, I would have called them "Grandpa Age," which could have been anywhere from mid 50s to 80, for all I know.) One was very gruff and ornery, but the other was so kindly as he pinned the little red poppy to my jacket.

Somewhere along the lines, somewhere in the late junior high or possible early senior high school years, I remember saying "Happy Veteran's Day, Dad!" to my father. He snorted and said, "yeah right." My dad had been in Viet Nam toward the end of the war, in the 70s. He had been drafted at age 22 or 23. He never speaks of it, and would hate me even mentioning it or this paragraph. But I feel it is important for our us to see any and all perspectives about this sort of thing. Once, my brother and I were snooping, (very bad, I know, but it's true!) and we found a purple heart in my Dad's secret box of special things. Years later we confessed and asked him about it. He rolled his eyes and said, "they were handing those things out left and right back then." So I guess we'll never know what it was for? Or maybe in years to come, now that he is getting to "Grandpa Age," we will learn more details.

My other memories of Veteran's Day- aside from Peanuts cartoons- are not about Vets or Veterans but about strange things that happened to occur on this day, 11/11.

So, about ten years ago, (or was it 12 years now?) my ex-boyfriend and I were on a little acoustic tour of gigs in Europe. We played a few gigs in France, and had a lot of time in between them so as to explore. We had rented a Renault Clio and shoved our guitars in the back and hit the road, driving through Western France, down to the sea and Coulioure and Perpignan, into the Pyrenees, visiting Cathar Castle Ruins high in the clouds, and then down into Barcelona.

This particular trip had already been a comedy of errors. I had lost my house key while locking the back door as my sister was picking us up to drive us to the airport to start the whole dang journey. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true! It was early November, the 3rd, and there had been a light dusting of snow in Minneapolis, where I was living at the time. My sister was picking us up very early in the morning, while it was still dark. (What a saint.) As I was locking the back door, I pulled the keys out, and then realized I had forgotten to turn off a certain light in the house and wanted to double check the flames and any electronics I may have left on. Mike, my boyfriend at the time, was already in the car. With the key ring literally still in my hand, I turned back to the door and looked for the key to unlock the door. It was gone. It was not on the key ring. I looked in the door itself. It was not in the door. I looked on the steps, on the ground below. It was nowhere to be found.

Eerie.

I never did find it, either, but of course, by the time we returned to Minneapolis about three and a half weeks later, the ground was frozen and buried beneath a thick pile of snow.

We had a layover in New York, during which we visited some friends of mine. We were going to have lunch with a friend also named Mike, and while we waited for him to finish work, we wandered around Washington Square Park. We got a coffee. Just as I was about to sip my drink, a bird flew by and pooped DIRECTLY INTO THE SIP HOLE of the cup.

Blech.

Fine. No coffee for me, that's okay. We headed over to my friend's office and he laughed when he heard the story and said, "here, have a cup of coffee." He pulled a mug from the company cupboards, filled it with coffee, and handed me the cup. I grabbed the handle of the ceramic mug with a smiley face on it. I remember it had googly eyes glued on to it. Before I even took a sip, the cup itself BROKE COMPLETELY FROM THE HANDLE which I was left holding as the entire cup dropped to the floor.

Ay. ay ay.

And on and on. The whole trip had been like this so far, and now, driving into Barcelona, after having just getting stopped by La Guardia Civilia (and somehow avoiding a search of car, which, as usual with that particular boyfriend, definitely WOULD have yielded a discovery of illegal substances, this time, hash in the jelly jar.) (TWICE with that boyfriend I got pulled over for no reason and ONCE searched, both times with pot in the car, and miraculously, the time we DID get searched by DOGS no less? They didn't find the stash.) (And by the way, and this is 100% true, ask ANY of my ex boyfriends, especially the pot smoking ones, I hate pot. I hate smoking it. I am the least cool person ever when it comes to drugs or pot, unless we are talking a little of the analgesic cream legally for sale here in California, which I use on some of my old car accident and motorcycle accident injuries. Okay, this defense is just sounding worse and worse! But seriously, not a fan of the Mary Jane.)

So now, the boyfriend was driving and I was reading about the city and where we were staying, a hostel inside a park with lots of Gaudi architecture nearby. Cool!

But what I wanted to warn Mike about was the high level of pickpockets and crime. It was a big deal in Barcelona, according to Lonely Planet, and Mike was famous for just not paying attention to his stuff. He was the kind of guy who would leave his wallet and his insulin and needles and phone and car keys at a bar when he stepped outside to go smoke a cigarette.... something that would leave little Scandinavian Minnesotan Good Girl ME rendered INSANE.

No wonder he always thought I should try smoking pot. I really needed to lighten up! ;-p

Just kidding. I mean. No, seriously, I work on lightening up constantly. But I still don't like the green so much.

Anyway, so, I have an over the shoulder bag I've been hauling around in addition to my backpack with my clothes and toiletries and stuff. It's an oversized purse, you know, think of that episode of "Friends" where Joey has the "man bag" and you'll know what I'm talking about. In it, I kept my makeup, camera, passport, wallet with money and credit cards, phone, keys, (ha!), Mike's insulin and needles (Type I Diabetic) little notebook for notes and pens. Also, gum. Also, once we had checked into our HOSTEL and were down at the internet cafe (remember those?) because I had a friend in Barcelona and I was checking my email to see if he had written back with his phone number so we could hang out, my little bag was ALSO carrying Mike's insulin and needles so we could just head straight out without going back up to our room where he was putting away our stuff.

And, oh! Look! Luciano had emailed us. I pulled out my notebook and a pen, set down the over the shoulder bag, wrote down the number, reached back down for my purse and-

and-

where the F*** was it?

Well, S***.

It was gone.

Mike came down then, and bumped into a guy in a suit with his coat draped over his arm.

He saw the panic on my face- it had been fairly constant on this trip-

and we began the fruitless search for my purse.

Finally, we went to the front desk for help, and we began the process of cancelling credit cards in the back office of the hostel lobby. Meanwhile, guess what? The hostel had cameras installed and the whole damn thing was ON TAPE. Mike and I watched as, at the exact moment I set down my purse, the guy IN THE SUIT got up from his seat two chairs down from me, grabbed my purse, covered it WITH HIS COAT, walked around, bumped into Mike, and sauntered out of the internet cafe in the hostel.

Well.

Damn.

Anyway, the Veteran's Day thing.

So, this was November 10th, and I called the US Consulate in Barcelona, because guess who had her passport in that very bag?

And the outgoing voicemail message let me know that as November 11th was a holiday and the Consulate would be closed, it would also close early on November 10th, and re-open at 8 am on November 12th.

Yargh!

That particular trip was a learning lesson for me. It was the trip where we accidentally got stuck at a disco hosted by some Basque Separatists, where I accidentally bribed a traffic cop in Belgium (I swear), and where my ex-boyfriend and I were really truly about to become ex'es.

I didn't like the trip while I was on it, but I enjoy thinking about it so many years later.

So. Happy Veteran's Day, all you service men and women, and I thank you for your service.

xx


Erin


This photo either Mike or I snapped of the full moon above Carcasonne, a few days before Veteran's Day. We loved western and southern France. That part of the trip, they were some of the greatest days of my life. I have never felt so free.

And honestly, the passport thing took a few days to sort out, but driving through France, Spain and Belgium was glorious.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

"Patter for the Floating Lady"

Hey, y'all!

So, I recently filmed this monologue from a Steve Martin play (yes, that Steve Martin!) "Patter for the Floating Lady," for a demo reel from SuperHero Reels.

Check it out!



Tuesday, November 3, 2015

COMEDY TONIGHT! I mean, um, TODAY! Tuesday, 11/3/15: I talk comedy with JOSH MARGOLIS

Hey everybody!
So, as some of you know, I am a maker of multi-genre stuff. I am sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, sometimes musical, and sometimes just downright poetic. Lately, I have been working on two comedy pieces- 
 
which is very likely coming to a city and computer screen near you in 2016! Hang tight for more info!
And here is a pic from the recent video shoot:
Unedited, unphotoshopped, just straight up Erin 'tude.


AND, among other things, I am developing an action-comedy web series with my partner in life, crime, and writing, Carlo Carere. (We have a very serious, very commercial action-thriller sci-fi script if anyone has 40 million dollars lying around and is friends with Bradley Cooper by the way. Script Shark analysts even said the "future looks bright" for THAT script. But our WEB SERIES is for us, for fun, for COMEDY!) (Sorry about bragging rights from Script Shark, but, well, you know, what if Bradley Cooper, or, say, Ryan Reynolds or Chris Pratt reads this blog somehow? You never know. They might! Just putting it out there.)

I've been studying and analyzing comedic structure a long time, (and recently actually applying it! Ha!) and while I LOVE studying the masters- Steve Martin's "Born Standing" is an amazing book- I recently got to work on a set with sketch comedy masters Jane Curtin and Dan Akroyd- just watching them get up from their seat to walk on set was a Master Class in and of itself!)- I thought it would be fun to talk a little comedy shop with some of my friends in the business who are brilliant comedians, if not as famous as those aforementioned icons. (Also they are all my age-ish, so, you know, give us all another 10, 20, 30 years and maybe we might enter the doorway to the threshhold to the valley to the field of the masters.)
Today, I want to share a conversation about comedy with one of my earliest comedic partners, Josh Margolis. Josh and I became friends in Minneapolis years ago, so many years that I think, according to IMDB, I wasn't born yet. But that's cool. He and I worked together on many projects, most of which he wrote and I acted in, but some things which I also directed. Our show was called "Josh and Sandi," and it was very "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman." It was the 2000s, and people were in the mood for "Friends." We were like the bizarro version of that. Actually we were like the bizarro version of "Debra Messing and the Hot Gay Guy." I know that show has a real title and was very funny, and it was also actually all about Jack and Karen for me, but for the life of me, I think of that show as "Jack and Karen" or "Debra Messing and the Hot Gay Guy." 

So here's the convo!
E: When did you first realize you were funny?

J: I think I first realized I was funny when people starting laughing when I wasn't trying to be funny.  People seem to find my neurotic concerns hilarious!

E: OMG, that's kind of my story, too.

J: I don't think I'm actually that funny in person if I don't know someone well.

E: Oh, really? I think you're hilarious!

J: Well, of course, that's true, but we know each other very well.

E: And have from the start. Like, the minute I met you, even just talking on the phone with you, I felt like I had already known you for eons.

J: It takes awhile for my sense of humor to come out in day to day life until I am comfortable with someone or a group.  People who've seen the various film and TV things I've done through the years expect me to be funny in real life, but I think I channel all of that in my writing.

E: I hear this about so many funny people. Like, they are often actually very serious, or very hurt, or very angry people in real life... often very different on a day to day basis than their performing or writing selves. So, what kind of comedy do you love the most? I mean, that's a wide open question, but you know, just whatever comes to mind first.
J: I love comedy with a point of view and comedy that is character driven. I think anything that is based in reality is funny, like the quirks of people and behavior.  I often think of Gilda Radner and how she committed to her characters in a way that she made even the most ridiculous situations real and funny. There was always a truth to everything she did. She always seemed to care for her characters and never was condescending to them or the audience.  An earned joke is a funny joke.
E: Yeah, I feel like it's true that comedy comes from that level of seriousness. Comedy comes from pain, and commitment, and observation. Everything Amy Schumer says is funny, but it is also, taken out of the context of a comedy stage with a microphone and put in a shrink's office, very tough! Okay, sure. Funny. But tough stuff, too! So, where do you get the material for your comedy?

J: Almost all of my comedy is from my own life. Sometimes it's heightened or changed to the way I want it to be, other times it's written exactly as it happened. 
E: When I did my first one woman show, "The One," a lot of people thought stories were about THEM when they really weren't! "What really happened," at least for me, is subjective. But a lot of what I write theses days is definitely filtered. I mean, it's always filtered through my style and intention and framing, anyway.
J: It seems like all my characters are different parts of my personality trying to figure things out and trying to find the meaning in everything. When I reread some of my older scripts, it really becomes obvious to my that I was trying to work something out in my own life on the page. 
E: I wonder if that's true for everyone? And if so, yeesh! Scary! I say that because I recently found a series of short stories I wrote in 5th and 6th grade, and they were all about the end of the world due to environmental catastrophes. And this was the 90s, you know? They are HILARIOUS. I will maybe post one or two on my blog. But they weren't meant to be funny at the time. They were MEANT to be very serious.
J: Reading my older scripts now, I feel like I understand better what I was trying to say.  In those old scripts, there are jokes and lines I had forgotten and they make me laugh and then I think "this is so me." It's clear to me as I review all the things I've written that I will always be obsessed with the same things.
E: I felt that way about Steve Martin when I read "Born Standing." In the book, he shares jokes that he loved but other people didn't get. To be honest, I didn't really get them, either. Do you have jokes that you think are hilarious but haven't caught on yet, or just need time or the right context to ripen?
J: The jokes that I think are so funny don't always get as strong a reaction as I'd like. Sometimes these jokes are really inside jokes that I don't realize until later that the audience won't get it because they are not in on the joke. 
E: Yeah, actually, that can be tough for a lot of comedians who are so smart, usually, and often in their heads. But what is really funny is what is relatable, I think. And so you have to also consider the audience. Like, how do you make jokes about an experience that is a little more niche and make it funny to a wider audience?
J: When writing, I can get so inside my head that I don't always communicate clearly. It's usually the "throwaway" jokes or lines I don't even think that much about that people seem to like and quote back to me. I'm also surprised when people laugh when I'm not trying to be funny. 

E: Yeah, me too. Every time I perform a show, whether it's a set at a comedy club or a one woman show, something like that pops up, you know, things that weren't even jokes are things people laugh at. But then it gets back to that question of when we realized we were funny. For both of us, and I think for a lot of comedians, it kind of happens/ happened on accident.

J: I'm always surprised at what makes people laugh.  I think I have a peculiar (or particular) sense of humor because for the most part, I don't find a lot of current comedies to be funny. In the last year or so, there has been a return to more character driven comedies, but for so long before then, there was a lot of gross out type of comedies and those always leave me cold. I don't like mean humor.  I think jokes can be funnier and more shocking if they are more subtle.
E: I don't like gross out comedies myself, but I do love some of the new icons of comedy- Melissa McCarthy, Amy Schumer, Tina Fey. I wish they would make a new Golden Girls starring Tina as Sophia, Amy Schumer as Blanche, Melissa McCarthy as Rose. 

J: Who's Dorothy?

E: Me, duh!

J: No, you're way more Blanche.

E: No. I claim Dorothy. But if you get to be Dorothy than I want Blanche and, sorry Schumer, you're out. Anyway, now, I'd like to thank you for being a friend...

(Everyone ready to sing along?)




Josh Margolis is a comedy writer based out of Austin, TX.  He has written the cult classic "Joanie" movies and well as a TV comedy series in his hometown of Minneapolis. He is currently observing everything he can. There is so much to write now. He's still waiting for the people of Austin to "get him."