Walking the Cat . . .

Because life's kinda like that . . .

Some of the Things on my Mind . . .

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I haven’t been posting much the past few days and I want to apologize to those few who have taken the trouble to stop by and see if anything new has been posted.  Actually, I’ve been reading quite bit; blogs (other than mine), books and magazines (both online and off).  I think the reading has had more to do with my lack of writing than any inability on my part to find something of interest to write about or any “writers’ block” .  The simple truth of the matter is, I despair of my writing.  The more I read, the more I come to realize the tremendous amount of I don’t know what (I was going to say self-delusion, but that somehow doesn’t really convey what I mean; hubris probably comes closest to the mark) it takes to aspire to being a writer. 

I know myself well enough to realize this attitude stems, mostly, from my own low self-esteem; I have no background in writing, no extended education and no true writing experience (outside of “letters-to-the-editor” and more than one failed attempt(s) at blogging). I wrote papers, of course, during my brief collegiate career but never gave it much thought as a means of earning a living, just assignments that needed completion.  Still, for all that, I’ve always (at least it seems like “always”) had this cacoethia scribendi, this “itch to scribble”  I just couldn’t shake.  So, having filled my (up until then, empty) head with Romantic visions of conquering the “world of letters”, I embarked on my “writing career”.  It lasted a little over a year.  What I learned was I had no real skill with words and absolutely no tolerance for rejection, which is kind of weird when you consider how many times I’ve been married.  Don’t ask, it’s not something I’m especially proud of (except for the fact I kept doing it until I got it right). 

Anyway, I set aside any notion of being, or becoming, a writer and set out in search of “gainful employment”.  In the course of my wanderings in the world of work, I’ve been at various times a sailor, salesman, taxi driver, bartender and cook; none of which were especially enjoyable (with the exception of cooking, but then I have this inbred desire to eat on occasion and cooking seemed a “good fit”).  I still wrote, from time to time, still scratching that “itch to scribble”, but didn’t produce anything of more than passing interest (to me anyway).  Then, when I wasn’t looking, something happened that really changed everything.  I got old.

I didn’t look old.  I certainly didn’t feel old.  When I looked in the mirror each morning, I still saw a young man, ready to take on the world, staring sleepily back at me.  I could still work, could still be productive.  I hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t done anything except survive; in spite of everything, Viet Nam, living in California (Oakland in the 60s), and  all that followed, I’d managed (somehow) to live to “retirement age”.  I was a “Senior Citizen” and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.  I tried, really tried to prove I wasn’t ready to be set out to pasture, but the effort proved useless.  I simply wasn’t “marketable”, as one interviewer phrased it.  As I said earlier, I’m not real good with rejection, so I finally accepted the reality of my situation and settled into retirement, uncomfortably.  Anybody tells you when you retire, you should enjoy those “golden years” is full of **it!  If I had to  assign a metal to retirement it wouldn’t be gold, it’d be lead.  Dull, gray, heavy lead.  Describes retirement (for me anyway) perfectly; dull, gray and heavy.

So, this is why I’m here, writing this drivel.  I’m tired of my dull, gray, heavy life and I’m trying to do something, something to give me a reason to get out of bed in the afternoon.

I just had an interesting thought; a question, really.  If the College of Cardinals had elected a black pope, would the Holy See pay any more attention to him than the Republicans do to President Obama?  Just askin’. . .

(I’ll try to be less “whiny” in future posts, I promise.)

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