Forgive me, it’s been six months since my last post…
As for my excuse, I’ll use the same one I gave the congregation outreach volunteer from my church who called looking for me last week or as he phrased it, “We haven’t seen you in a while. Do you need us?”
I retorted, “Don’t worry, I’m not trapped under anything heavy. I’ve just been lazy.”
However, apparently they need me for more than filling the coffer because the next day I got an email from my church asking me for one of my kidneys.
I tried my hand at writing a novel, however, the only opening line I could muster is, “The cul-de-sac was angry that day.”
I guess I need to become a depressive or a drunk to get the creative juices flowing.
On second thought, I think I’ll just get out more.
I’ve actually been spending my leisure time channeling my inner-Lois Lane by writing human interest stories for the local paper in my city.
At first, it was very exciting to see my byline in the weekly paper that is mailed free of charge to the 180,000 residents in my community. It’s a writer’s favorite audience – one that’s captive and getting some free stuff.
I love writing about the people in my community. There’s only one problem.
It’s the same problem that keeps me from visiting all the cute little puppies at the Humane Society.
I want to adopt them all.
I get emotionally attached to all my subjects and I approach every article with an enormous amount of time and detail like it’s my big break writing for Vanity Fair.
It’s not quite the cover of Rolling Stone, however, my article on the 50th Anniversary of the high school radio station landed on the cover of the newspaper. It was exhilarating – I felt like William Miller from Almost Famous documenting the rise and fall of radio.
I previewed the symphony like a classically schooled arts editor. Little did the readers know my iPod is filled with Sponge Bob theme songs and One Direction.
Perhaps the most nerve-wracking was interviewing celebrities like comedians Caroline Rhea, Jon Dore and Tommy Davidson. Or the most embarrassing, trying to score an interview with one of the hosts of NPR’s Morning Edition and making the mistake of writing a gushing fan letter rather than a pointed, pithy Q & A.
My latest editorial adoption came in the form of an energetic motivational marathon runner who talked me into joining her women’s marathon training group as the only walker out of a sea of runners.
Let’s just say the only way I’ll be crossing the marathon finish line is in a Cushman.
The runners were all actually very nice and supportive of the lone walker.
Sure the spotters would stay in their positions until I passed, always with a supportive clap and message of support like, “there’s our shiny caboose!” and “hey, at least you’re out here.”
It’s really a blessing that my knee blew out after the last practice run. And, as the photo finish shows, running is apparently not my only weakness, I can’t pick out a sports bra to save my life.
I’ve been in hiding ever since.
So, as it turns out…while I may not need help from my congregation, I certainly do need my blog.