FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK be insulted (these were serious times) or flattered that she thought I was funny.
a smart man for what he does not know. The reverse I have found, isn’t always true.
As a writer, things pop into your head all the time. I can’t tell you the number of world-changing poetic prose that have been whispered into my ear by angels … only to get lost in the steps from one room to the next. My approach recently has been to immediately write them down on my phone. My wife does the same thing with melodies and lyrics. If you press the wrong button on her phone, you’re liable to hear any number of song starters that you’d swear might be the next big hit. And they might.
Other entries in my notes sound like prompts to spy thrillers. He left the buffet like a man in the act of a kidnapping. Or, He exited the bathroom as a man fleeing a crime scene, leaving behind a resentful and sullied toilet fed up with its life’s calling. There’s a lot of leaving going on here in this section of my notes.
Mine are less polished than that. I record them because I think they might fit into something someday, or because I figure they might act as sort of a “writing prompt” if I ever get writer’s block. Here’s an example: He moved with a passive-aggressive ramble that cloaked his defiant nature, but led those with him to plot his death with vivid, satisfying detail. See, there’s a lot of places that can go, but we all know that person. The individual who seems spring-loaded and spry until you need them to hurry and then suddenly they become Tim Conway in the World’s Oldest Man sketch. The anger and agitation that builds in you for someone who is “clearly doing nothing wrong” will cause you to eventually grow homicidal. And then, of all things people will look at you like you’re the animal. Here’s another one: Over the pandemic, I have become far too familiar with my own face and physical features as a result of having to cut my own hair. What a demoralizing task, coming face to face with the evolution of disgruntled, nonconforming hair all over your body. I spend nearly as much time trimming my eyebrows as I do my head. In the last year, I’ve gone from a “High and Tight” to a “Mohawk” to keep the ever-advancing gray hair at bay as it slowly creeps up my dome. All of those experiences led to this entry in my notes: It appears my ears have finally reached puberty.
Some of the entries are just life principals: If you’re dating someone … before you decide on marriage … I advise eating pizza with your prospective spouse. You’ll learn a lot about who they are. Or this observation: Unlike most things which are here today and gone tomorrow, weight tends to be here today and here-er tomorrow. Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with these. I’ll look through them on my own. Maybe one of them will make an interesting column sometime. You probably have your own list of random, poetic whispers. Little phrases that speak like lyrics, calling you to: Join the chorus of King David… Look at the stars, the moon / What is man that you are mindful of him / Human beings that you care for them? You may gaze at those stars and say out loud, As long as Orion waits / As long as he holds his shot / I will wait for you. You may consider your thoughts and gain wisdom. You may find insight into Those who have made a theology out of their insecurities and fears. And still yet, you may discover the mysteries of the universe, like: How do I explain the differences between items on the Mexican fast food menus to my daughter? It’s all the same three ingredients. Anyway, I won’t burden you with all that. I’ll figure it out. And, I promise, if you show up next month we’ll have more to talk about. Cheers my friends.
Yes, my ears have finally reached the age of possessing their own “facial hair.” If I’m not careful, my hearing ports will look like a 17-year-old QuickTrip employee trying desperately to impress Heather, who’s clearly not into him, Axe body spray, or his tenuous adolescent mustache. Some lines in my notes come from things I don’t say in conversations, like: Congratulations. You’re going to make your son’s therapist very rich someday. Or: Okay, well I’ll be honest for both of us then. These things tend to fall into the category of “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you have to say it.” Other entries tend to be just thoughts or observations. I have a lot of very smart and even successful friends. Sometimes I think they hang out with me because it’s something charitable they can do in case they need extra points to get into Heaven. “See, I hung out with the guy with the goofy haircut and the hairy ears …That’s gotta be worth something. Right?” Being around them, I’ve determined there’s a very big difference between being smart vs. being wise. I can’t lay claim to either, but if I could I’d rather be wise. A wise man will seek out
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