So anyway, I gave my dad that book. He said thanks, but I guess once I left he put it in the drawer with all his other items of sentimentality that he feels he should keep.
I was telling him about the first run of Alligator Stew selling out, and rather than ask me questions of a creative nature, he just kept asking how much money I'd made. I told him I'd lost money. He didn't get this. He asked why I didn't ask for more money. I told him I do it because I enjoy it and am only hoping to try and cover my costs. Then he started asking about whether I could get a distributor involved. I realised at this point he really didn't get what it was that I was doing. Then my sister joined in and I let my eyes glaze over and floated off into the world of Blind Willie McTell, who was playing away in the corner.
My girlfriend gets it. She's a painter. Her paintings go for about £1000 a pop, but she'll only sell if she thinks the buyer really appreciates the work and that it will fit in its new home. She treats her paintings like a litter of puppies. When we're struggling for money for food and bills, I sometimes say 'hey, why don't you sell a painting?'. But I get it too. Some things are more important than money.