Our local newspaper has just hired a new columnist. They were considering using me for a while, but I think I use the F-word too much for their tastes, not to mention the D-word and the S-word and, in fact, any word the average person might say upon banging their thumb with a hammer. (Except my mother, who never cursed, saying "Shoot!" or "Sugar!" when she got angry or upset; they would have hired her in a heartbeat.) Anyway, that new columnist started things off with her take on the school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, saying things like "it was a tragedy beyond compare" and how "words can't describe my grief." She ended by saying that all was right with the world as long as she could hug her children every night and she and her husband were safe, and God bless America. Kill me if I ever write stuff like that. My daily challenge in this venue is to come up with material that nobody else thinks, or at least says out loud. I fail miserably all too often, but surely there are thoughts in my brain that are not in other brains, or else I wouldn't have so much trouble finding people I can relate to. (Actually, that should be "to whom I can relate," but who talks like that?) Most of the things I think are unprintable, at least as long as my son is out there and could possibly read this, which he does not do often but in case he ever does. Thus all talk of sex, drugs, suicide as a perfectly valid response to life, the race war in America, closet homosexuality, the restrictions of marriage and the violence of the family unit, and anything else smacking of the dark underbelly of society is totally off the table. That doesn't leave me much to work with, or rather, much with which to work.
I have considered writing under a pseudonym, but then none of my friends could find me. Besides, negativity is out and Smiley Faces are in. That's funny, since most people are so miserable, explaining the popularity of all those Will Ferrell movies and The Olive Garden restaurants. Which reminds me: last year, dieting to beat the band, I lost exactly one half a pound. At that rate, Mitch points out, I will reach my goal weight approximately 15 years after my death. I better step things up.
you have made me -- all of us -- laugh again -- this time at
ReplyDelete- the Newtown tragedy
- bad language
- small town journalists
- a litany of dark and deeply taboo personal and potential blog topics
- dieting
not bad for a mornings work :-)
xoxoxoox
and she makes it look so easy......
ReplyDeleteAre Will Ferrell and The Olive Garden popular because people are miserable? Or are they miserable because they have gone to Will Ferrell movies and The Olive Garden enough to make them popular?
ReplyDeleteKeith, you are so deep! What I meant is that the adolescent escapism of a Will Ferrell comedy is enough to obliterate one's cares for a few hours. As for The Olive Garden, I ate there once in Phoenix and all I remember is the "bottomless" bread basket, offering a carbohydrate high that lasted long into the next day. I guess if you eat there often enough, you feel good a lot.
ReplyDeleteI've only eaten in an Olive Garden twice that I can remember and what stands out most to me is wishing I'd gone to an Italian Restaurant instead. [Insert McKayla Maroney's not impressed look here)
ReplyDelete