Watching others cope with diseases and declining health, slowly moving hunched bodies as they struggle to remember simple words and phrases and master common movements, do you ever wonder, what’s secretly going on inside yourself that’s waiting to come out?

It’s like looking for the monster hiding under the bed.

Mr Sigh

He sighs when he wakes up, realizing it’s another day, and sighs when he gets out of bed, stands, and sits, motions stiff with pain. Sighs slip out as he makes his meals and eats them, and as he reflects on his life. Sighs accompany every task, as if his world is filled with strife. Sighing, he works hard to do what he can, trying to get by, contemplating his death, sighing, holding on, and trying to stay alive.

The Drive

I’ve been watching a show on Netflix called “The Fastest Car”. I like speed. It’s my one weakness. This show plays on the challenge, are sleeper vehicles faster than exotic machines like Lamborghinis, Ferraris, McLarens, Ford GTs and Vipers?

The sleeper vehicles are home-built machines. They frequently look like junk but are fast vehicles. You can’t call them cars. Cars are included, but so are trucks (including a diesel) and vans. There’s been a huge variety of machines. While presenting the challengers, the people talk about cars and their relationships with speed, racing, and the vehicle they’ll be using. Family is often a large thumb on the scales about what they’re doing and why.

With four cars racing, all can’t win. The defeated are usually philosophical about it, although some get hissy, challenging the fairness of something that happened. What is really interesting, however, is their absolute belief that they can and will win in the lead up to the race. They express doubts, but typically circle back and say, “I think I’ll win.” It’s that attitude that draws me to the show. As everything is considered and the cars are prepared, the men and women say, “I think I can win. I’m ready. We’re going to win.”

I like that attitude. That’s the sort of fire that writers struggling to make it need to exhibit. “I think I can win, and I’m going to do everything to prove it. It’s not for me as much as it is for xxx.” Xxx is the blank to fill it. They don’t want to win for themselves, but for those who believe and back them.

Isn’t that like a writer. We want to be published, and we’re driven to write. People often lurk in our lives, and we’re seeking to validate their belief in our talent, creativity, determination, and dreams. It’s a fuel that keeps us putting our ass in a chair with paper and pen or pencil, or at a computer keyboard or typewriter.

It isn’t just about me, we tell ourselves. It’s for everyone else. Remove them, though, and I think most writers will still be writing. I suspect those drivers trying to win would also still be going, even without trying to prove themselves to friends and family.




Thursday’s Theme Music

Alice Cooper came into my scene around 1969, when I was thirteen. Their Killer album, with its snake on a blood-red cover, was a favorite. From that album were “School’s Out” and “I’m Eighteen”. Those two songs were generally played a couple times a day at very loud volume for a few months after the album came out in 1971, but my favorite song on it was “Under My Wheels”.

Lyrics draw me, and did the same with this song. The delivery, backed by rising guitars and horns, becomes more frenetic and intense, which I thought was a reflection of some relationships. He wants one thing, she’s offering something else, and it’s all messed up.


Floofcessory (catfinition) – a cat or feline that is not essential in itself but adds to the beauty, convenience, or effectiveness of something else; a cat a person not actually or constructively present but contributing other’s misbehavior.

In use: “The calico seemed demure and innocence, but as floofcessory, she’d leaped up, grabbed the door handle and turned it, effectively answering the question, “Who let the dogs out?””

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