FIRST ANNIVERSARY

It’s March 19, 2011. I have been writing this blog for one year as of today. I’m shocked. I have tried diaries, journals, and notebooks at various times throughout my life. None have lasted over a month. I get busy doing something else and it is gone from my mind. I even started out pretty good here then began to miss a few days. Actually, I’m surprised I even came back. There have been more than one occasion when the thought of continuing put me to sleep.

I have no real reason to write this thing. I was encouraged to do so by Duncan, but that never kept me going before. I have been lectured about the value of journaling to no avail. I admit there are things I wish I remembered accurately. I would love to write about the years I kept proctor boys. But it would be a work of fiction at this point. The details are blurry. Actually, fiction may be the best way to do it.

I have tried to journal about my Bible reading. I felt bad when I could think of nothing to write about or nothing jumped out at me. I was a professional religious type person. Surely I sould have insights daily. Ha! It didn’t happen. Sometimes I thought I was a very secular religious professional. Shush! Don’t tell anyone! The clergy already have a bed rap by the likes of the Bakers and others. On the other hand, I’m nobody so my lapses should not add much to the clergy damage.

I admit there is something fun about saying whatever comes into your head. It can be dangerous. I hope it hasn’t been.

I started writing because I though so much of what happened here was funny. It has taken a more serious turn with the huge emotional and legal battles of Chas and Olivia. I wish I could will that disaster away. It’s not going to happen. I lost some of the humorous tone with my own health problems. I moved from satirist to storyteller. The satirical commentator was what I wanted to remain. I have moments, but when there is pain, few of us maintain our humorous edge.

The truth is one never knows if anyone reads their blog without feedback. I love the comments (and help) I get for time to time. It motivates me. Even hard criticism is better than no criticism. At least it’s attention. Some attention is better than no attention. And I guess we write these things either for attention or because we have something we think is significant to say. I’m not saying much of anything so it must be attention.

By now writing has grown into somewhat of an obsession. I have been told many times by untrained, nonprofessionals that I should write. I’ve through about it for years. When teaching I wanted to write a text for an intro class. I concluded I was too inexperienced. I have written many articles about the state of the church and considered myself to cynical for anything by the Wittenberg Door (A satirical Christian magazine that may no longer exist). I have many pages of a biography I was writing for my family. Haven’t even finished that. Considered writing about my son from each of our points of view, but doubt I even understand his point of view. And to be honest, he was much smarter than I. The proctor boys I had were entertaining and challenging. It could have been my best try at comedy. They never really frustrated me, but I laughed a lot in secret and loved trying to out smart them. Even my failures are interesting.

I finally have almost enough data to write about living in an independent retirement home. I could probably turn it into a somewhat entertaining book, but I won’t. My heart would break if some people were identified. I also seriously lack the discipline and most importantly — I don’t want to. What I do like is writing snippets of life as it is. It reminds me that life should not be taken too seriously. All of us here have already had more pain in our lives that we can handle. Why would we want more. One just must laugh about human reaction.

The earlier fire alarm will be funny in a few days, Right now most are mad that we lost sleep. I’m not. I can sleep all day tomorrow and so can most of the others. But it will be more fun to get together and complain.