A thousand thank yous to the ISW Group for putting up with my wacky melt down yesterday. You guys are great. today I'm better. Well, at least, as better as I get.
Anyway...I've been working on a few Short Stories for contest entries and writing my entry for the 'Origins' Blogfest. The 'Origins' post is written, I'm just not sure I have the nerve to publish it. All of this has me reflecting on people, places and incidents throughout my life. I want to tell you about one:
When I was in college I had this boyfriend. Boyfriend is kind of a loose term. We went to a University that was basically a commuter school. U of I at Chicago. He never took me home to meet the folks. I was quite literally from the 'wrong side of the tracks'. His family would have been appalled at who I was, what my Daddy did for a living and where I came from. The boyfriend was too concerned about being 'cut off' to look his parents in the eye. I was too young and stupid to care. That's not really the point, because what this guy lacked in his willingness to stand up to his parents, he had mountains of in his willingness to stand up to the world. Maybe he loved them too much. It took me along time to realize that was exactly how he felt about me.
He took me to some really nice places. Once we were in a fancy restaurant. I'm sure I was whining about something (of course I really don't have a clear picture of that part) and he stands up and starts singing out loud the love song of the day to me.
Let me take a little break in the story to tell you, we were theater majors. In the 'student union' this type of behavior was not only common often it was a class assignment. My first reaction was to laugh and listen intently smiling and thinking about what little bit of improv I was going to come up with to 'get him back'. The goal being to make the other person 'break character'.
After the first few seconds of this serenade I'm reminded where we are. It's plain all other activity in the restaurant has ceased. Everyone, the waiters, the patrons, maitre'd, and busboys are staring at us. Some of them with their mouths hanging open. I'm starting to get a little worried. Worry progresses to embarrassment and slides right into home, with pure mortification.The boyfriend, he just keeps singing his heart out. Thank goodness he has a nice voice and can carry a turn. (Most people in the the theater department can sign and dance a little. You know, being on stage is being on stage.)
When he finishes there are those few seconds where you have that feeling of being under water. Everything is happening in slow motion. If you're mortified, like me, it feels like those seconds will never end. If you're enjoying the moment, like boyfriend, those seconds flash before your eyes. At the end of those few seconds the sound in the room is deafening. Everyone is clapping. People are standing up and clapping (are you kidding me? a standing ovation). Some of them come over and congratulate him with a clap on the back. More than one old lady told me "honey, don't let that one get away". Needless to say, my mortification is starting to wane and is rapidly replaced with total and complete admiration and yeah, love.
This is a true story. The good ones always are. There is a POINT.
Setting all the mortification of my Y & S self aside, I am eternally grateful for that experience. Can most of you tell me you would not love to have that experience? Have someone put them self out there on a limb, like that, for you. We all know I'm a whack job, but I gotta believe that almost all of the ladies would love it and probably most of the guys. Now, I admit the guys are probably thinking; yeah, but would it have to be someone like 'Eyes', that woman is certifiable. No, it doesn't have to someone who is as certifiable as me, it just has to be someone who cares enough.
My point today IS: Go out there and sing a love song to someone. sing it out loud where others can hear you. Crawl out on that limb. I know writers are introverts and this is scary, but tough - step outside your comfort zone, expand your horizons. It will make you a better writer, and a better person. I bet you get a standing ovation.
I know some of you are thinking; 'that guy, the boyfriend was no fool, this was probably an excellent ploy to get her into bed. Nope, nada, it wasn't even as issue, at least, not that night and it never did happen. Actually, the story has a tragic ending, but that's for another time.
OK, there's my ISW post a day late and a dollar short as usual. Don't think too hard about life , live it instead.
Here's a little poem.
My candle burns at both ends.
It will not last the night,.
But ah, my foes, and
oh, my friends --
It give a lovely light.
Edna St. Vincent Millay