In My Own Words

Every once in a while, someone will tell me, unsolicited, that I should 'write' - not in a generic sense but more in a professional vein. I will confess, I have often wondered if I'd have the chops if I really, really applied myself...

I had the opportunity last week to meet an author. A real one - not a blogger but someone who has actually made money with the printed word. I listened to him stew over a screenplay's butchering of one of his books, lamenting the demise of a literary magazine he was a part of and gladly sat through plugs for his new works.

The two paragraphs come together like this: late that night he sat down and read from one of his books. I have never been present for such - sure, we've all heard it on NPR or some such - but to be present in an overstuffed chair as he sat on the fireplace hearth and read - editing as he went, explaining asides and laughing at his own jokes. It was amazing to listen to and in that listening get just a glimpse of the Author's mind. Capital A there, folks.

I knew that night that I would never write. Not like that. Not in that caliber or league. I have seen greatness and know that I will forever fall short. Interestingly, I am not saddened by such...

Them Versus Us

We were driving behind some of Them up in the mountains of North Carolina this last weekend. They were in a red pick up, tail gate removed, three in the cab and woman riding in the bed, drinking a diet Pepsi and guarding a half dozen bags of trash. Winding our way down the mountain, she'd take a slug, look around and shout things towards the cab. I surmised they were headed to the community trash center - a large parking lot full of dumpsters - just as we were. As we were rounded the corner before the entrance she did something incredible: she pitched her empty soda can into the ditch.

I was stunned. I said the words I generally reserve for home improvement projects. I could not believe what I had just seen. How hard would it have been to hold on to the can for another thirty seconds?! Their visit to the dumpsters was fleeting - almost a drive by - as they barely slowed enough for the gal to pitch her bags in the general direction of an open container. She missed one. And, of course, did not bother to retrieve it.

Them. Inconsiderate, devolved low lifes. A lack of consideration, that's what it is. And responsibility. It's Them that's bringing this great country down. Folks acting with no pride, no shame and not the least thought for those around the rest of us.

Folks do not consider any more. The dude shouting racism at every turn fails to note that, in doing so, he's just a bit racist, too. The fundy's demanding the end to abortion (almost always male, natch) fail to consider the life, will and emotion of the mother. Republicans sneer at the Liberals while the Libs laugh right back - neither considering a middle ground.

Them. Them versus Us. We're losing, I think. And what's most disheartening to me is the idea that I just might be someone else's Them.