The first day of all that remain.

hello to all!

This is my very first post on my very first blog. I decided to start blogging because I haven't written a story in a long time and I want to keep my writing muscles toned and ready. I write lies - fiction mostly. The truth is always there somewhere, but knowing it, deciphering it, can only be done if you sift out the chaff. And that could be my first lie because, you see, you don't have to sift out anything: its all chaff and its all truth. Can letters be anything but truth? Can you call the letter "A" a lie? How about the other 25? Any lies there? How about when you combine them together to form words? If the letters are not lies, how can the words be anything but the truth? And if the individual words don't lie, can you throw a bunch of words together on a page and call the combination a lie? I think not! So, if you put down a series of these combinations (words) in some sort of way, random or otherwise, can we form a lie? In other words, can a bunch of little truths be put together in such a way as to create a lie?

Never mind!

I will just continue to write. That is what I like to do. if I write fast enough, without any forethought, then I am not conscious of what I am doing and I am, therefore, not responsible for the result.

Today I went to chair yoga. I go there for mom's benefit. She goes too. She's 84. Its just a number. She's old. That is the truth of it. And old people's bodies seem to rebel against continual use. Its as if they say "Hey! Quit it! I have had years of this moving around stuff and I'm tired of it." My body hasn't come to that conclusion yet but I am afraid if I keep hanging around old people, I might start getting old too.

Not today, however. Today I feel my age, whatever that means. I can't narrow it to a specific age of course. No one knows exactly how it feels to be 59, or 46, or 3. They can only assess the current moment and extrapolate from a number of such moments to come to a conclusion of what it feels like to be (blank) years old. The problem with this way of doing things is that it is not very scientific. The conclusion is weighted heavily by the current moment when the decision is made, and secondly by the more recent moments and so on down the line and into the past. This is an inescapable bias. The past just doesn't carry as much weight as the present. If I feel like shit right now, those current feelings color greatly my perception of how I think I felt a short a time ago, and how I have been feeling overall.

My mom's friends are all old too. She has known most of them for longer than I've been around. (Interjection: That's a lie. But it felt it good to say it. I think if a thing feels good to say, you might as well go ahead and say it, truth or not! You can always apologize and the benefit of the lie lingers long after the apology. It's a technique honed to brilliance by prosecutors and defenders alike. I think that adds some credibility to it, don't you?)

Let me tell you something about old people. This is just an observation on my part, but it seems to ring true. But before I go any farther, I should probably give you an example of some other observations I've made so you can get a feel for my perspective and apply that to what I am about to tell you. In other words, keep a salt shaker handy. (...should be taken with a few grains of...)

Women drivers. Need I say more? How about this one: women drivers and cell phones. Ha! Sorry! I get carried away sometimes. Well, in the interest of fairness, there is something about men too. I just can't think of anything right now.

So, back to old people. Well, if that don't beat all! I can't remember what I was going to say! In situations like this, I rely on the one rule of writing that has kept me going all these years. (Another lie. I haven't been at it that long.) It isn't much different than the one rule of living which is this: keep on breathing - keep on writing. That's it. Don't ever take a notion that you can't bullshit your way through anything. You can. The law of averages is a beautiful thing! If you throw enough words, sentences, paragraphs on a page, something of meaning will eventually be contained in it.

Time's up. I have had it for now. Its a slight cramp in my medulla somewheres. (That is part of the brain, isn't it?) I haven't heard anything about the medulla for a long time. Seems to be a lot of chit chat about hypocalamitus, spituitary and the like and the right brain and the wrong brain (the one that's "left"over after the right one's been dealt with. We moralize about damn near everything, don't we?)

It's a good day outside... for being inside. Kind of gloomy and rainy. Not one of those honest-to-goodness rains, but a measly drizzle of a thing, like it can't decide which way to go. A real fence-sitter of a rain. One that lands smack dab between mist and drops, but qualifies for neither. Not a very inspirational thing for deciding between this and that.

Another handy rule that seems to work: If a clear decision seems out of reach, don't make a fool of yourself. Let it rest. And....

Never mind.

Geronimo!!!!!!