The Tragedy of the Empty Page

I'm still bumming about the death of Mike Wieringo. I can't get over the man's age. Only 44 and dead of a heart attack. Makes me wonder how many days I've got left, you know? Makes me wonder how much time I've wasted away. Makes me wonder how many projects I'm going to leave half-finished, half-started, or somewhere in between. And the answer, as always when my thoughts turn this way, is far too many. I can't think of any more fitting tribute to, by all accounts, a wonderful person than to get my ass in gear and make something wonderful of my own. So, if you'll excuse me, it's time to stop gazing at my navel and to begin staring at the blank page.