A Writer Writes!

“A writer writes not because he is educated but because he is driven by the need to communicate. Behind the need to communicate is the need to share. Behind the need to share is the need to be understood.”

-Leo Rosten

My first thought as I awoke this morning was the echo of Billy Crystal saying, “A writer writes.” in the movie “Throw Mama From the Train”. My second thought was, who was he quoting when he said that — aside from the fact that he was playing a role in a movie? I am not a writer, but I used to write. I wrote a lot; almost daily.

Why has that changed…?

… ?

I could not answer my own question. I realized that I would not be falling back asleep today, and continued my self-analysis. Unfortunately I have not come to any startling conclusions.

The only answers I have to offer are rather pathetic (as far as excuses go). I’ve been busy – doing… well nothing. Lately, I just spend more time on things other than writing. I only regret that now that I have stepped back and realized that I cannot list many of those “things” that have occupied so much of my time.

I think my leave of absence is nearing its end. I miss this place and the communication circles that come with it. I only hope that some of you are still around once I am back.

News On the Home Front

They came in from the cold. I have had not two, not three, but four episodes of them. They keep finding new ways in, and I keep killing them. There have been numerous casualties; yet they keep coming. There will be no occupation.

This is a reccuring problem. Last January they invaded my pantry. This year they tried to infiltrate the perimeter of the bathroom; and attempted to enter through the laundry room dryer venting system. Keep coming if you must. I will just keep killing you.

Even the Dog is Exhausted.

The party was in full-swing by the time I got off work and arrived at my friends’ house. I remember it like it was… ten years ago. The pieces I am missing are gradually being filled in by reports given to me by some of the people that were there. What I do know is – I remember the precise moment at which I realized – I was half-past-full and it was definitely time for me to go to bed. Mind you I don’t know what TIME that was — but I suspect it was sometime around two.

I remember my friends that were there. I remember the new people I met. I remember the little smokies, wrapped in bacon and sprinkled with brown sugar (those are good). I remember going to the room that was reserved for me and going to sleep – letting only one or two people know I was “done”. (The rest of them I was told were wondering what happened to me).

I also remember that I was not the first of the early crashers; one guy disappeared around ten thirty and everyone was looking for him. He claims he ‘went to bed’, but we checked the entire house (including the swimming pool) looking for him. It is still unclear where he was for an hour and a half.

The details that were filled in later can be summarized by stating that a wine glass was broken in the garage, and stepped on by one of the two people responsible for the broken glass. She proceeded to bleed all over the garage. Somewhere around four a.m., the two brothers got into a fight that was compared to something that would happen on Jerry Springer. Everyone was amazed that I ‘slept’ through that part.

Hey, at least I did NOT wake up in a ditch in Tacoma in my underwear.

Happy New Year, everybody!