The ice has broken…

The toughest part of writing most days is to simply get started.  The first word, the first sentence, the first paragraph.

It’s one thing to write to a faceless crowd.  When I wrote my weekly national housing column for the Associated Press, it never once crossed my mind that tens of millions of people might scan my tepid columns if they were hard up for something to read. That didn’t fluster me at all.

But it is an entirely different story altogether when I write that very first letter to someone.  It is doubly hard to expose yourself, so to speak, for the first time.  You open yourself and your writing style to their perception.  They see you in an entirely different light than they have previously seen you.  So it is with my friend in Des Moines, Bob.

Lucky for me (and maybe for Bob), he’s been on the receiving end of several letters as of late.  The ice has broken, and whatever jitters I had before that first letter to him have subsided.  Who knows what his perception might be, but that ice floe is already under the bridge.

——————

March 11, 2011

Bob: I hope you don’t see the steady stream of $1 bills as any sort of annuity program because it’s not.  The greenbacks are just another reminder to make hay while the sun shines.

I don’t particularly care to hear about your jaunts to and fro around the country.  It makes those of us anchored in our seats feel not quite as appreciative of your travels as you would like us to be.  I am, however, looking to the “Reunion Tour” of DDD&B.  It would be a travesty if there were no golf clubs involved.  That is my only line in the sand.  Hopefully by that time I will be able to keep pace with you “long knockers” (no pun intended).  The assumption here is that Jane will be the tour (director) de force.  If she’s not, she should be.  In her prior life, or the next one, that sort of detailed organization fit(s) her to a T.

I am inching back toward full participation in life.  It’s taken me significantly longer, frankly, that I ever thought it would.  That means I am either a slow healer or incapable of understanding the complexities of the situation.  Probably a mixture of both.  Maybe that’s the sentence handed down to those of us who are aging beyond our time.  Most days it’s been a matter of one step forward, one-half step back.  I’ve yet (knock on wood) to really experience any pain, a bit of discomfort here and there, but that’s written off to the recuperative process.  At least I hope it is.  The only thing that bugs me is that my last half-dozen years of faithfully working out and staying in a semblance of condition have all evaporated.  It is all gone.  The only thing that remains is my appetite, which remains at pre-workout levels.  That’s not a good thing.

When the bike becomes on-limits for riding is up in the air.  I go back to the doc in about a week’s time for the next check up and I hope he gives me the all-go sign for full activity.  The Harley could, however, rattle my cage significantly and my guess is I’ll know how that goes after just a few miles in the saddle.  My “Iron Butt” days might be a thing of the past.

I’ve enclosed the attached cartoon as more evidence that you can take the boy out of Iowa but you cannot take Iowa out of the funny pages.  Iowa is always getting lampooned in a good-natured way but at least such humor is devised rather than being reality based as it is here in the Carolinas.  The Observer this week reported we are 46^th in spending on public education, which is fitting given that we have moronic legislators who want our uneducated kids to pack heat on college campuses.  That’s an appealing recipe for disaster in a crowded campus bar on a Friday or Saturday night.  You guys have it easy up there by comparison.

I’m still thinking about Des Moines the first full weekend in May.  Steve Allen is getting re-hitched and I’ve got stuff to cart out of Kathy’s house before she gives it the heave-ho.  I hope there is enough time to see everyone and do everything.  At the last we can meet at Grounds on Ingersoll.  They made the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had: Luna Tango.

So much for an all inclusive update.  It shows you how little is really going on in my little corner of the world.  Keep the text messages coming, and I’ll hopefully keep the $1 bills flowing.