When I was asked to describe this blog for potential readers, I came up with: “Writing From The Trenches” -- by Don Rutberg.” But I wanted to improve that. So I decided to change the double-dash before my name to a single dash.
I continued with the following description: “My blog is for writers who are ‘outsiders’ and non-invitees to Hollywood’s pertinent parties. Reading this can help you acquire show-biz savvy without moving your family or selling your soul … well, at least without moving your family. And if my unfettered honesty doesn’t offend you – hey, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Legendary TV newsman Dan Rather extolled the virtues of being an “outsider.” He said that all journalists should be outsiders and never try to become insiders. “Independent with a capital I,” Rather said.
So, sure, I work myself to delusion writing this blog. But my delusions are “Independent with a capital I” and through the creative trauma, I remain an outsider. Like I told Kibbee the dolphin in Grassy Key, FL, “Live free or die!” That applies to all aspiring journalists.
Here is a clear example: don’t take $10,000 worth of cigars from someone like Fidel Castro if you’re down in Cuba writing an expose on corruption.
As Tonio K sang a few decades ago: “You just can’t do it. Oh, you keep asking for trouble.”
As the late trouble-maker Hunter S. Thompson said, “It can’t get weird enough for me.”
SONGWRITER’S CORNER
I get letters.
-- “Dear Don: Why don’t ya ever write blogs about song lyrics? Regards, Elvis."
Dear Elvis: Let me guess – you really are Elvis, the one, the only. Am I right?
-- “Dear Don: Yes, as a matter of fact, when Elvis died, his spirit and soul went directly into me. Regards, Elvis.”
Dear Elvis: You haven’t been reading my blog. Put the sandwich down (if you’re the portly Elvis I saw recently in Atlantic City) and pay attention. I’ve mentioned you in this space, along with Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, etc. Here’s a tidbit: John Prine wrote that his Grampa “Voted for Eisenhower ‘cause Lincoln won the war.” Where else would you read an obscure song lyric like that? Huh?
Speaking of obscure, I just mentioned Tonio K in this blog. That’s Obscure. Yet the lyrics from Tonio K’s songs gather more meaning and render more wisdom with each passing year. I quote his 25 year-old songs constantly and everyone just stares at me blankly and shrugs, like there’s something wrong with me.
-- WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? (PART I)
I once wore tangerine jeans into a casino in Las Vegas and I wasn’t the only guy there wearing tangerine pants. (I mean, why even try to be different?)
-- WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? (PART II)
I drank two shots of Bacardi 151 and my wife was calling me “Donnie 302” while we watched “The Number 23” at Cinema 309, the one ten miles down from Route 66.
-- WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? (PART III)
I’m getting paid very little to spend a whole lot. But, to me, that sounds like a recipe for fun. I’m planning to write a blog about my trip to Las Vegas next June. I see myself as a kind of an off-the-wall travel writer. It’s a way for me to have fun and get paid for having it. I will attempt (don’t try this at home, kids) to advance my career while being entertained and coddled around the pool.
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