Tough time to write
I’m having a tough time hitting the keyboards lately. Well, not the keyboards at work, plenty of writing going on there. But The Vinman has lost his voice lately ’cause he’s had to use it to deal with to much other stuff.
Writing is my way of singing. And those who have heard me sing wish my singing sounded more like me writing. But I feel like I’m in between tours right now, working on the next album but all the songs are running together.
The writing is not coming lately, not for lack of topics, just the opposite. Yes, it is summer now and with the warm temperatures finally here, trees flourishing with leaves and time for golf there are more distractions.
I thought for a week or so it might just be writer’s block, but it’s not that either.
Instead, the thaw plug of life’s damn has given way and the flood of incoming situations has kept The Vinman from his keyboard. Some are wondrous and good, others are sinister and bad. Not to tease, but a close confidant who knows of all that’s happened in the last seven days agrees it is fodder for a novel.
“A week in the life of a journalist — at home, ” he suggested.
To be true to myself, I will write about what I can. What I can’t is not because of family trouble or problems but just another amazing direct connection to the national news that has occurred in my life. And this is one I have promised not to reveal at this time.
One I can write about, I will do so in brevity because to many it might seem trivial: A neighbor verbally accosted me while I was retrieving my mail about 10 days ago. He’s never said a word to me in 5 years and threatened harm if my wife and I didn’t slow down on our street. He accused us of speeding on a 25 MPH dirt road and believed his dog was in danger.
Hell, we can’t even hardly get up to 25 MPH from our house to the road, but he had a friend with him and he needed to prove something so he cussed me out like a sailor thinking I would shrivel away. Anyone who knows me knows I do not shrivel.
Instead I gave back as good as he gave, but I was pretty mad for a week or so. Until I read this: Ananova – Woman sues neighbor for naming dog after her.
Then, I realized I’m not the only person with a knucklehead neighbor and eight years on this quiet little slice-of-heaven street without a cross word is pretty good.
That’s not the sinister and bad stuff, just a distraction while all the other stuff was happening.
But contrast that with the wondrous and joyous event of being asked to officiate one of my best friend’s (actually, more than a best friend — almost a brother) wedding in August! Yes, that’s right you heard me correctly.
Perhaps I will write more on this as it develops, but it is of a personal nature and I may not want to reveal all my thoughts in reverence to the event itself. But a man who I have known for about 35 years is marrying someone who has to rank among the World’s Top 10 most wonderful women. She radiates love and they both have enough faith in me to ask me if I would do the honors.
Honors? It was the greatest honor I’ve ever had to be able to say, “Yes, I would love to.”
So, I will become “official” and have lots of work, no — I have a labor of love to complete and lots of planning to do.
Let’s see, irate and crazed neighbor (did that); friend asks me to officiate the wedding (wrote that, what else?) and OH YEAH, my new Ashworth $85 golf pants!!!
How could I have forgotten?
I’ll try and make this short……..Around March, The Vinman was fantasizing about summer and golf and decided his golf wardrobe lacked a nice pair of light fabric pants designed especially for golf. For some reason, EBay was on my mind and low and behold, there is plenty of golf apparel for sale on the site.
I honed in on a sale that offered “NEW $85 Ashworth Golf Pants” for auction. It was one of my first auctions and wowee, Batman, was I excited when I won them for $30. Presto bingo, a few bucks more for shipping and another $15 to have them altered to my inseam length and I was ready to go. All I needed was the weather.
Well, last week, I had the good pleasure to wear the pants for the second time (I had line dried them after the first wearing to be sure they were not shrunk or deteriorated — special treatment, indeed) to a Country Club no less. All the golfers were dressed fine in their Cutter Buck and top-notch sporto attire. The only difference between them and me was I didn’t have a lingering tan from a spring trip to an exotic location.
Well, to make a long story short, I felt a draft around the eighth hole and asked my playing partner (and friend I am going to marry) if I had a rip. Yup, he told me, I sure did! Not a bad one, he said, but enough. No need to change, he said, and we played on.
By the 14th hole the draft had turned to a low-pressure front moving around upward past my upper thighs into the butt region of my lower state.
I’m not saying it was drafty down there, but my castanets were playing a rhumba instead of a lullaby!!!
But I couldn’t feel the rip too much….so we played on. As we walked up to the 18th green, there were women everywhere!!!!! Turns out it was ladies night!
After hustling into the clubhouse, I turned my back to a full-length mirror only to find the butt of the pants had literally disintegrated….the fabric melted away like ice cream in a Santa Ana wind. Gone in 30 seconds. Fabric Terminator II………whatever, my jockeys were showing their colors!!!!
Now, I have written the chap in New York who obviously slapped a couple of string product tags and stuffed a pair of recently dry cleaned used Ashworth golf pants into a box shipped to Moron Numero Uno, my address.
But in a way, he did me a favor. During one of the most crazy, adventurous, “what’s going to happen next?” two weeks of my life, this Bozo made at least five people laugh like hell when they pictured The Vinman at a Country Club with his trousers in shreds.
Couldn’t have happened at a better time. And, hey, I’m writing again!!!!!!
Well, onward and upward….the national news about this other thing drones on……boss is leaving out of town for two weeks, parents left for the summer place in the UP and everyone else is in New York visiting my sister.
Might be a good weekend to write more. If you finished this post……you now know the danger of awakening The Verbose One’s fingertips.
If clicks were dollars……………..