I'm sitting here thinking about what I might write about as we greet this
Wednesday, January 19, 2011. Hello and welcome. Writing can be somewhat of a perplexing challenge. When I was a kid one of our neighbors who was an English teacher introduced me to some historical novels written by Thomas B. Costain. Those books turned me on to reading and I have written before about the debt of gratitude I owe to that dear lady for her fanning the flames of what became a life long pursuit. Costain was a recognized talent for many years but here's what he had to say about writers:
"I am convinced that all writers are optimists whether they concede the point or not. How otherwise could any human being sit down to a pile of blank sheets and decide to write, say two-hundred thousand words on any given theme?" — Thomas Costain He was referring directly to writing books no doubt but I will tell you that facing the blank page can at times be daunting. I have no way of categorizing the kind of writing I do. I suppose that's the idea behind blogging. One can communicate whatever it is that is on their mind. I don't have an active Facebook page but I do read my wife's. That genre of communication is called social networking and that it is. It's very interesting to read the level of detail that some folks share. They catalog how they feel, what's going on in their lives, their thoughts and feelings on a variety of subjects, and some even tell it all down to when they go to the store, what they do at home, and everything in-between. I wonder if they would be that open talking face to face. And, much of that same theme typically resembles what I do every day. As you can see, just talking about it does help put words on the page because I started out this blog with really nothing on my mind, and here we are, an entire paragraph with very little in the way of substance.
I fancy myself to be more of a story teller than a writer in the classical sense. I love stories. I love hearing other people telling their stories. I do quite a bit of story swapping. My wife would say I swap less than I tell but I do enjoy the exchanges. Yesterday morning I was retelling my disappointing anniversary meal that I wrote about the other day. My dear friend and work colleague, Bro. Jim, listened and laughed as I embellished each point. I finished by saying that $35 bucks each just seemed to be too much for such a disappointing meal. We both had a good laugh and then he said, "You know that reminds me of something that happened to us one time, did I ever tell you about our excursion to the French restaurant?" I told him I didn't remember him telling me about it and he was off and running. This was a number of years ago and he and his wife lived somewhat frugally. They had this lady in their Church who was very special to them. They invited her out to eat on her birthday. They told her she could choose any place she wanted to go because it was their treat. She called out the name of this French restaurant. They went there. It was first class. Everything was good he thinks because that part of the story has faded but not the bill. It was $96 and he nearly fainted. We both laughed again and that's the way swapping stories go. Some people say they don't really have any stories to tell. I can't imagine how that might be but I could probably tell you a story about how sad that must be. But I will hold that one for another day.
Not a bad way to start a day. Hot cup of Community brewed extra strong along with some old fashioned fellowship with a buddy. It reminds me of being up at my Great Uncle Claude's auto garage. He had a wood burning stove and one could hear some stories just sitting on the couch. That couch was a back seat out of an old sedan. Hunting, fishing, politics, and local gossip were served up by those waiting for Uncle Claude to look at their vehicle. Or, maybe out at the barber shop off the beaten path where in the summer time everyone sat out under the trees and visited while they waited their turn. Kids were expected to listen. We tell our Bible club members they must listen to learn. We had been raised that way, therefore, I can still remember some of those stories I heard while sitting under those trees. That's where I heard from the man who accidentally nearly cut my grandfather's nose off during a logging job. He shared the bloody details of how my granddad handled the pain and no doubt I was listening and hanging on his every word, wild eyed and fixated. My grandfather never told that story and more or less shrugged it off when I asked him about it. I also heard stories about getting by on next to nothing during the Great Depression, along with war stories, stories about local heroes, and the usual fish that got away stories. We've pretty much thrown in the towel on that tradition and I for one don't think we are the better for it. That brings us to today and here I sit trying to think about something to write about and suddenly I look up and there's a page full looking back at me. Is this a great country or what? And, are we blessed? I know I am and I hope you recognize that you are as well.
Amen. .....More later.
I fancy myself to be more of a story teller than a writer in the classical sense. I love stories. I love hearing other people telling their stories. I do quite a bit of story swapping. My wife would say I swap less than I tell but I do enjoy the exchanges. Yesterday morning I was retelling my disappointing anniversary meal that I wrote about the other day. My dear friend and work colleague, Bro. Jim, listened and laughed as I embellished each point. I finished by saying that $35 bucks each just seemed to be too much for such a disappointing meal. We both had a good laugh and then he said, "You know that reminds me of something that happened to us one time, did I ever tell you about our excursion to the French restaurant?" I told him I didn't remember him telling me about it and he was off and running. This was a number of years ago and he and his wife lived somewhat frugally. They had this lady in their Church who was very special to them. They invited her out to eat on her birthday. They told her she could choose any place she wanted to go because it was their treat. She called out the name of this French restaurant. They went there. It was first class. Everything was good he thinks because that part of the story has faded but not the bill. It was $96 and he nearly fainted. We both laughed again and that's the way swapping stories go. Some people say they don't really have any stories to tell. I can't imagine how that might be but I could probably tell you a story about how sad that must be. But I will hold that one for another day.
Not a bad way to start a day. Hot cup of Community brewed extra strong along with some old fashioned fellowship with a buddy. It reminds me of being up at my Great Uncle Claude's auto garage. He had a wood burning stove and one could hear some stories just sitting on the couch. That couch was a back seat out of an old sedan. Hunting, fishing, politics, and local gossip were served up by those waiting for Uncle Claude to look at their vehicle. Or, maybe out at the barber shop off the beaten path where in the summer time everyone sat out under the trees and visited while they waited their turn. Kids were expected to listen. We tell our Bible club members they must listen to learn. We had been raised that way, therefore, I can still remember some of those stories I heard while sitting under those trees. That's where I heard from the man who accidentally nearly cut my grandfather's nose off during a logging job. He shared the bloody details of how my granddad handled the pain and no doubt I was listening and hanging on his every word, wild eyed and fixated. My grandfather never told that story and more or less shrugged it off when I asked him about it. I also heard stories about getting by on next to nothing during the Great Depression, along with war stories, stories about local heroes, and the usual fish that got away stories. We've pretty much thrown in the towel on that tradition and I for one don't think we are the better for it. That brings us to today and here I sit trying to think about something to write about and suddenly I look up and there's a page full looking back at me. Is this a great country or what? And, are we blessed? I know I am and I hope you recognize that you are as well. Amen. .....More later.
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