I have to admit it.  If you put a clean writing surface in front of me, I begin to twitch and reach for something to write with.

It has been like this since I was a child and I first learned that words equaled stories and stories could take you anywhere.

When I was 5 and just learning to read, I would memorize the stories my mother read to us, and then I would retell them with the opened book in my lap.  It wasn't long until I realized that those letters were the story.

When the kids were young I enrolled in a writing course to relearn all of the writing skills I had lost or forgotten along the way. My goal was to write children's books.

But the years passed and I read books I wished that I had written, but had no books inside of me to share. What I did have life experiences and they were funny and odd and thought provoking.  So, back in 2002 I began to write in earnest, well after the kids were grown.

After getting a piece published in the local paper, the editor offered me a monthly spot to write a column on whatever I wanted.  I did that for 15 years.

Back in 2010 I self-published a collection of 72 of those columns and titled it Laughing All the Way.  My dad was fighting terminal cancer and since he was featured in some of the stories, I wanted him to read it before his passing. He received his copy three weeks before he died.

This blog spot was created because of the book.  It was to give me another outlet to write but I got stingy with my writing since I was producing it for publication.  I only have so much to say or only so much folks want to read.

I recently retired after 19 years and a lot of my writing was used for client classes and teachings.  Again, that fulfilled the part in me that needed to write.

Today, I am revisiting this blog not knowing if any of this will be read, but desiring to have a place to gather and share those things that I write.

I am really going to try to use those hours when I cannot sleep to gather my ideas and put them here.  Maybe you will join with me in this journey. 

 

Born to Be Wild

In 1968 one of the first major rock songs was blasted across multiple music stations.  It became a major hit informing the world that motorcyclists were out seeking adventure and were Born to Be Wild.

Seriously, only cyclists are wild? It took until 1968 to tell everyone? Honey, it starts when you’re in diapers.

Be sure to have rattles, tubes of ointment, and possibly snacks available when you change the diapers of a child that can roll or crawl.  Not unlike a greased pig at a fair they can and will escape.

When children begin to toddle around they are thrilled to be “mama’s little helper” and willingly toss items into the trash and pick up toys.  This works for about three years or until they fully understand the word “No”. Sadly, this may happen much sooner than three.

 Welcome to Parenting 101 or Help! I Have Birthed a Child Just Like Myself! And that’s the hard truth because inside we all still want what we want …we are all born to be wild.

Looking back over my own childhood I cringe to remember the name calling, clique forming, parent sassing, rule breaking, edge pushing person that I was. 

Today I am much more controlled and yet, on occasion, the rebel rises. If I pass a coin drop, I usually DON’T contribute; it feels too much like panhandling and peer pressure.

Ever go to a church with a prolonged greeting of peace?  This is the kind where all the pews are vacated and then everyone visits everyone else in the church.  AWKWARD, especially if the only person you know is married to you and is required to sit next to you.  I always greet Russ enthusiastically; shake hands with those sitting directly by me, and then study the architecture.

  I will buy Girl Scout cookies, Boy Scout popcorn, or candy bars sold for class trips.  But I buy from the children not from the parents even if they bring the order forms to work.  Although I like the parents, I find saying no to a cute kid hard, the parent not so much.

What could be more fun than role playing during a seminar?  The only thing that I can think of is a root canal without medication.  Enough said on that.

And I don’t want to forget being in a crowd where you are encouraged i.e. demanded to clap, stomp your feet, stand up, or do hand signals.  There’s a good chance that I will gamely clap along; slim to none odds on any of the other.  Add to that any standing ovation because it’s expected and it’s not gonna happen.

When my son Peter was 6 he passed on some profound wisdom.  He had been playing at the neighbor’s when he came into the house crying.

“Peter, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He shook his head and continued to cry.

“What is it?”

“I heard a bad word.”

“Well, that’s ok.  You don’t have to cry about hearing a bad word.”

He threw his head back and howled, “But I want to SAY it!”

 Exactly! Born to be wild.

 

 

 

                 

 My last post was in 2015.  Because I have not posted one would think that perhaps I was:

1.    No longer interested in writing

2.    Void of ideas

3.    Deceased

None of the above is true.  I have been dropping thoughts and stories here and there, but mostly I have been sharing things on facebook.

Today I decided to dust off this blogpost and share again thoughts that come my way.

I don’t know that this will be read but it will give me an outlet to release pent up ideas.

I want to qualify that my picture has aged since the last time I was here.  Now at 65, I find that I am fighting the ‘melt’, that wonderful humbling time when your skin becomes like molten wax.

The biggest change is that I no longer use eyeliner.  Because I have to prop up my eyelids to apply it, once I release them the liner disappears. This is a plus because it has effectively eliminated any makeup that I use.

Again, since being retired not many people see me and with my wonky eyesight that includes me.

Catch you later!