WRITE ON, THAT'S WHY

Why do writers write? Because it isn't there.

I wish I had thought of that, but I must credit Thomas Berger for that thought. Which, of course. is so true.

Whether or not we have a voice, we don't know until we create. Until we put down in writing what we think we are somewhat observant about, somewhat expert in. Whether we write as Maugham, an eight-hour a day exercise with no day of rest, or like Bradbury who devoted hours and hours of writing for a period of 20 years until he wrote something good; something that made him weep uncontrollably.

Or whether we write a blog, almost daily. Or sporadic poems when an idea comes to us. Or try our hand at short stories, plays, dramas for church. Or start a piece and see where it's going; see if if morphs into something or not.

But writers must write to feel. I paused to search for an adjective and decided to stop. Writers must write to feel. That's right. We feel things differently or think we do. We have this notion that we are seeing things that others miss. That we feel things more deeply. That we have a vision of the future or a special remembrance of the past that need not pass away. So we share, we speculate, we see patterns, we voice dangers, we praise the ordinary.

A little Hitchcock or O'Henry in us likes to take a scene and punctuate it resulting in a reversal. The woman in the picture seems to be the aggressor, but in our story maybe it's the bobby at the station who's at the focal point of the story. We question his motivation and proceed from there. For instance, is he really a policeman or did he murder one and stands there planning his escape? What's really under his hat? Those kinds of things.

But hey, as Lennon says, come join us. There's always room for more writers, more stories, more voices writing just because.

MY WALLET AND THE TEACHERS' LOUNGE

My timing may be off. You know, sharing that I used to be a teacher. The Wisconsin mess and all. But I was. And I was upset with funding education and all the issues and mandates and testing that teachers faced. I was equally fed up with the teachers' union though I was a 30-year member.

But that's not what this entry is about. If I had an answer, I'd gladly share it, but I don't. All I know (and I've shared this before) is I was very fortunate to get hired at MTV High when I did. There were stacks of applicants vying for the position. The pay was the highest around. The faculty was outstanding.

Fast forward to 2001, my 30th year at the school. Applicants were few. The pay was about the lowest around. The faculty was not outstanding. Oh, there were some terrific teachers, just not as many as in 1971.

It was about 1975 that a new science teacher was hired. She came to smoke in the Teachers' Lounge where I spent a lot of waking hours. I approached her and introduced myself. I took out my wallet and showed her a picture of our young son, just a baby. Then I showed her a picture of my wife. Except it wasn't my wife. It was a picture of a hideous looking woman, not totally unlike the one pictured. I talked about her and what a good mother she was and how proud I was of her.

The teacher was horrified at the picture and my acting job. She bought the hoax and tried to contain astonishment and laughter. Finally, I could hold it no longer and started laughing. She was relieved.

And that's the initial meeting I had with Mrs. Felicia McGee. Ask her about it if you know her. I can still picture her big brown eyes when I showed that picture.

THE LOST LAUGHTER OF YOUTH

Ok, when's the last time you heard a good laugh? One that made you laugh? One that you wished your mouth was bigger so you could stretch that smile wider across your face?

I thought so. It's probably been awhile.

Oh, we hear laughter. But most of it is annoying. Or forced. Or out of habit. Mostly in a group of people.

But to hear innocent, pure laughter for perhaps no reason, or a least no good reason is rare. You must have a kid around you to hear it. For only the young know how to laugh.

Laughing until their tummys filled with sugar hurt. Laughing and not caring if they drool a little or snort in their guffawing. But it's not really a guffaw, which to me is more like a horse laugh. Theirs is the laugh of genuinosoty, maybe genuineness is the word. It's a laugh that says,"I think that's funny and I'm laughing. Join in if you like. But if you don't it won't stop me."

When completed, a big breath, deep and long is required. Only to be interrupted by another big laugh.