Today is the first day of my last week at Arhoolie Records. As we release fewer titles each year, with a smaller amount being completely new recordings, it just does not make sense to have a full-time publicity person (we can push great records like this all we want and they still will sell only so much, and the cost per sale does not come down with more and more dollars thrown at it). It has been a great three years here, and I have met some incredibly interesting folks.

With the general slump in the record business, I am not too hopeful of finding a similar position in the near future (add to my nearly complete and total unwillingness to relocate anywhere between the Berkeley Hills and Viareggio and the fact that I will not work for a record label that does music I am uninterested in, and the chances get slimmer indeed). I am probably only going to call a few labels I know people at just on the lark that they are not spinning into recessionistic lay-offs, but I am not really going to be digging too deep for full-time record label work just yet (in a year, when the dust settles and we figure out how to make this Internet thingie work for us, then I will probably look for something again). I am going to be doing more and more writing for the newspapers and will be taking on some other projects involving writing for magazines as well as doing some record label projects (and the occassional Arhoolie project as things come up). I actually have enough work lined up for the upcoming month that I will have to carefully manage my time to get it all done, so I am not really worried about the whole thing.

One big thing that will change is that I will probably drop my nome de plume for writing record reviews. I don't know, but perhaps old Pete will get to retire for a piece. I might revive him if the situation changes (or if I am worried about brand dilution in publishing writing in different fields, as I would not want people to read food writing and think, "oh, isn't he the music critic?"). We will see, but I may send my Anglicized Puerto Rican buddy off on a long vacation. Who knows, maybe people will clamor for old Pete (I can imagine a letter, "what happened to Pete F.? This Keilholtz guy is an idiot!").

Another change is that I will not be blogging at lunchtime. I might blog at nap time, but my Arhooligan buddies will tolerate me munching on a sandwich in my office, but Amália will tolerate no such anti-social balderdash. Lunch must be spent talking about each piece of food to be eaten: "hmmmmm! Cannalope! Amália cannalope! Here, Babbo: Cannalope! MMMMMMMM!" No sitting at the computer stuffing whole sandwiches in my gob while demonstrating my typing prowess (as in, "that's not writing, it's typing").

Yes, starting next week, I will be a stay-at-home dad (well, our little apartment is cramped and dark, so we will probably be out and about, exploring the world quite a bit), working my freelance writing gigs in the evenings and at nap times. Otherwise, Amália begins her art history education, with a museum a week being the scheduled program (memberships are grand!), as well as lots of time hiking, riding choo choos and splashing around at the beach or Lake Temescal. We are going to shoot for daily mass, but I will start more moderately, with two being the first week's goal, then upping it to three after a few weeks, then four and so on.

We will probably make a point of pestering Jared, because he is a fun guy, because we periodically visit each other's studios to critique paintings, and because, well, Jared lives half a block from Lakeside Park, with a great playground, a giant bird sanctuary, botanical gardens, and Children's Fairland. In a month, Jared will probably start hiding and refusing to answer his door, but we will see. We will probably spend a good deal of time visiting Amália's godfather/Latin tutor on the days or afternoons he is not teaching. We will probably drag Mamma from her office once or twice a week to go down to Jack London Square to eat our lunches and watch Choo choos. I will probably teach Amália how to swim in the next month, while we still have warm weather.

I am a little nervous, as I have never had to come up with such a busy schedule of fun, learning, playing, not-overtiring, not-overstimulating before (and still carve out due time for cooking, artwork, and writing). Usually Melanie is around, and it becomes a tag team effort: you take Amália to the library while I prep our dinner, and I will give her her bath while you put away the dishes.

If someone suggested that this is what I would be doing a year ago, I would have sniffed, "oh no, I read Lileks, but I have no plans of following his footsteps." It is all a bit scary, and a lot exciting, and should really be a great adventure.