The house is as quiet as, well, as an empty house. Donna and the kids flew out to NY today for a week with family, cousins, the pool and the dog. I am attempting to get some extra posts in during this stay of execution. Watch, I'll fall into a pit of writers block when the chance to write is golden. WWWWD? (What Would Walt Whitman Do?)
The dog, is begging for the rest of my sandwich that he is unaware, is inside my stomach. This is why dogs don't lead the country. That and they lick themselves in places no politician should. I'm still waiting for that scandalous headline.
Writing class tonight was so awesome.
For someone who weekly wonders why I write and where it's taking me, it is always so clear to me after class that this is exactly what I was starved for. I'm no author, but it sure is cool to be producing again and getting critiqued while I do it. Listening to poetry, some brilliant, some mediocre makes the class so interesting, so cerebral. We're all growing in our craft, some are much more mature at it and many are better, but no one is overly critical. It's a supportive group all focused on the same goal; writing as art. It's bleeding out of me like a bloody nose that won't quit.
Funny the thoughts that go through my head in class. I'm sitting there thinking "what does any of my writing matter to anyone" (That would be the cursed inner critic that we talk so much about.) I'm in the middle of a Boundary Waters memoir that just keeps growing and I'm not sure it will ever see the light of day. Should I show it to the brothers? Keep it in a cigar box under the woodpile in the basement? Publish it? (Yeah, right)
The conclusion I've come to is that it really doesn't matter what I do with it. Sure it would be nice if someone saw it and appreciated it, but ultimately it is simply, what it is, as trendy as it is to say that. I write because I crave it, need it. It's a cleansing kind of thing. If I don't write, I get word constipation. Now there's a visual. I pray because it represents the completion of my relationship with the one true God. I write because it completes my humanity. It's like yoga. I don't do it because it's trendy, I do it because it helps me. Writing helps me be me. Jim the author who wrote mainly for Jim. That sounds downright unhealthy. Probably is.
So enough waxing philosophical. What else happened this week of note? Somehow the speakers on my Santa Fe got blown. I have a hunch that it happened when the Boys from Boys club turned my radio up full blast unbeknownst to me. When I turned on the ignition, it was, well a bit of a shock. Gotta love those kid shenanigans. Yeow!
Now I'm stuck with buzzing speakers. Near as I can tell, it's only on the left side though. So either I have to drive while facing out the passenger window to get the full stereo effect from front and rear speaker, or I need to get new driver side speakers. Since driving with my head at a 90 degree angle sounds painful as well as dangerous, I think I'll have to get the driver speakers fixed. Ca-Ching!
This week Ben suffered a goose-egg knock on the head while fleeing some fireworks that we had set in the driveway. It was a hard knock too, poor boy. He was worried about brain swelling, but I reassured him that if he wasn't crying tears of blood, he was probably OK.
He also wondered this week if he was having a heart attack at one point. Oh yeah, and he was concerned about getting swine flu on the plane. Boy's got to stop watching Discovery channel, or Dr. G or whatever he's been watching. I know when I was 10, I didn't even know what brain swelling was. We feed our kids too much information and wonder why they're freaked out when they get gassy. We've created our own problem.
Two more days until I get rid of this cursed temporary crown. I've chewed all my food on the right side of my mouth for 1 1/2 weeks. I'll have to re-learn how to chew correctly when all is said and done.
The trip to the dentist I am not looking forward to. I am confident it WILL generate a post, because dentists are such easy targets for me. She told me this should only take 15-20 minutes. It takes her that long to tell me what she's going to do. Hopefully though, because she's squeezed me in between 2 other patients, it won't take long. I might not even have to sit down for it.
I've got a 30th High School Reunion coming up in 3 weeks. I plan on going and seeing how bald and fat the rest of my class has become. At least I only fill out the first half of that description. It should be a trip down memory lane. I suspect it will be enough to tide me over for the next 25 years. (I went to my 5th, and now the 30th.) Wasn't a big fan of my High School experience. Why would anyone be of an experience free of any contact with girls, civilian life and long hair? Especially at that age. Man, if I had it to do over...but I don't. So because of that I'm...