Greetings, friends. As is now standard, some corrections: Kellan kindly wrote me this morning to explain that “reduction in force” absolutely does constitute a kind of legal positioning. I can’t say I’m surprised. I probably should’ve looked it up first. The opinions expressed in this journal are strictly my own, et cetera, ad nauseam.
Also, 30 years ago I did still fantasize about making a living as a writer. Specifically, I was fifteen and I wanted to be a “poet” but after the fashion of Jim Morrison. No one should be surprised by this and some of you may remember it. (Looking at you, Moon.)
25 years ago, even, I was still an ill-fated creative writing major at Temple University. 20 years ago, oddly enough, I was still working as a software engineer at what had been until very recently still called “O’Reilly & Associates”, and the following year they would give me and Rich and Jo a contract to write a book.
So maybe I have always wanted to write, and write for a living, and I would still if given the chance. I still don’t want your money for this though. And at this point, writing would probably slot in at best third on my list of desired backup careers, after astrophysicist (you know, like Brian May), and voice-over artist. Maybe fourth, now that I’ve seen Ford v. Ferrari.
Did I mention that my father says he was at Le Mans that year and met Carroll Shelby? I didn’t discover this until a few weeks ago. My father has always got some seemingly improbable but still highly plausible story about something he did or saw once that he has never once mentioned in the intervening space of time.
I remembered what the third thing was. I had some concerns coming into this journaling practice that I would eventually run out of things to say. I understand that some people sit in front of their Morning Pages or their NaNoWriMo and just type LA LA LA LA LA or, like, 80s song lyrics, in order to fill up the word count so that they can unshackle themselves and get on with their lives.
As much as anything else, I think this is why I am not doing this writing strictly in private, because your attention keeps me slightly more honest, but even if I were… Have you met me? Like, have you ever had a moment’s pause, or even experienced a modest period of silence in my company? Most likely not, and the reason is that my head is stuffed full of thoughts, endlessly, sometimes exhaustingly. The thought occurred to me that this writing practice might well form a kind of relationship pressure value for me and Besha, who I am certain is very fond of me, but who, I am also quite certain, sometimes wishes I would shut the hell up for once.
I shouldn’t have worried about it. I come from a line of raconteurs and there are no two ways about that. I already mentioned my father, and then there was his father…
I once sat down with my paternal grandfather in his advancing dotage, with the voice recorder app surreptitiously running on my phone, and started in with some innocuously curious question, like “Hey, Granddad, what was it like being stationed in Japan?” and, with no further goading, Granddad would immediately launch into telling about something funny or strange that happened to him when the family lived there, and one anecdote would bleed into another, and next thing you know an hour had gone by. I got a solid eight hours of family oral history this way in the space of a long weekend. Which I cherish, now that the old man is long gone.
This long weekend I am planning to devote to putting the finishing touches on my apartment in Vancouver, in the course of which I have an actual, practical blacksmithing project to undertake. I am unreasonably excited to dig out the forge and the tools, dust off the anvil, and get to work.
Well, this has taken a lot longer to inch up to my 700-ish words than the last couple days. Some will come easier than others, I expect. Nevertheless I am grateful to you, and if you’re still reading this far, I send you my love. The lil’ dopamine hit I get when you open the email or click “like” means more to me than you know.
Ceterum censeo pro vigilum imperdiet cessandam est. I hope you have a wonderful day.