Jun 2018
On Sunday afternoons, I go to the Hy-Vee gas station and write up journal entries and/or just whatever ideas are floating around in my head.
In doing what I do for a living, I hear a lot of stories. Some of those stories are pretty tough. So, writing about the stories themselves or writing about the way those stories made me feel at the time is pretty essential. It keeps me clean, so to speak. Writing about work lets me keep the stories, so that I might learn a lesson here and there, while letting me let the pain, hurt, or other dirt go. Plus, as a bonus, I don’t get too worn out in the doing of the work. The writing staves off any empathy fatigue I might feel.
Also, I tend to wander around town in the evenings. I do it so that I might people watch and so that people can check me out. That sounds a little odd doesn’t it? I know. But, here’s why I do it…
My dad used to ask me, when I was a boy: “How many handicapped people do you see?” “How many people that have an obvious disability do you actually see in St. Joe?” “None. Except for me, I don’t see any.” I would answer. And, at the time, at least for me, it was about 99.9% true.
“So”, Pops would say; “Be the one that people see.”
What he meant was that people are often fearful of what they see as different or don’t understand. We all know this to one degree or another, I hope.
So, in doing what Henry Rollins has taught me, at least while working all over Northwest Missouri, I try to put as much mileage on my crutches as I am able. While I’m out there I try to meet as many people and shake as many hands as I can. I check people out and give them an opportunity to check me out. And, I write about those interactions.
I am a huge fan of the travel writings of both Henry Rollins and Anthony Bourdain. (I’m so sad that Tony left us. Really, it has been like losing a pal.) However, while I don’t disagree with them that every American should have a passport that is well used, I know that for myself and a lot of Americans travel like those guys do, is a financial fantasy.
But, I can go to City Market in Kansas City, I can go to Cameron, Missouri, I can enjoy and ask questions of the other parents and patients when I take Alex to Children’s Mercy for appointments. I can and I do. And, no one person has ever been anything less than kind to me. For each other, we are the “one that people see” and I think we’ve done ourselves and our stories as good a service as we can.
Recently, I opened up The Ritual a little. It morphed a bit when my pal Josh would join in. Both he and I would set up like we were going to write our next batch of poems and then we would start talking. We’d bounce around conversationally, just like two pinballs in a machine; there wasn’t a topic that either of us could think of that we couldn’t rail on for the two-hour parameter I’d set. Neither of us got any writing done. I don’t think either of us cared.
That said, I’ve left The Ritual as it is now. I’ve put it out there on social media that I’m sitting at the Hy-Vee plaza, in Caribou Coffee writing on Sundays. Sometimes Josh shows up, sometimes he doesn’t. But, I keep the idea of conversation at the forefront of The Ritual. Sometimes, I think it’s more important than the writing that either does or does not get done.
Why? Because now, in this era of social media, we isolate too much. We feel like we really do have 547 friends or followers when really, we’re alone in our rooms with our smartphones, tablets, or laptops. I imagine if the only socialization I got was online, I’d be horribly lonely.
I’m not putting down Facebook or Twitter users. I am one. But, I want to talk to as many human beings as I can before I kick off.
So, if you need to talk, want to talk, or like to talk...
It’s a Sunday Ritual soon and it’s all ours for the taking, and talking.
In doing what I do for a living, I hear a lot of stories. Some of those stories are pretty tough. So, writing about the stories themselves or writing about the way those stories made me feel at the time is pretty essential. It keeps me clean, so to speak. Writing about work lets me keep the stories, so that I might learn a lesson here and there, while letting me let the pain, hurt, or other dirt go. Plus, as a bonus, I don’t get too worn out in the doing of the work. The writing staves off any empathy fatigue I might feel.
Also, I tend to wander around town in the evenings. I do it so that I might people watch and so that people can check me out. That sounds a little odd doesn’t it? I know. But, here’s why I do it…
My dad used to ask me, when I was a boy: “How many handicapped people do you see?” “How many people that have an obvious disability do you actually see in St. Joe?” “None. Except for me, I don’t see any.” I would answer. And, at the time, at least for me, it was about 99.9% true.
“So”, Pops would say; “Be the one that people see.”
What he meant was that people are often fearful of what they see as different or don’t understand. We all know this to one degree or another, I hope.
So, in doing what Henry Rollins has taught me, at least while working all over Northwest Missouri, I try to put as much mileage on my crutches as I am able. While I’m out there I try to meet as many people and shake as many hands as I can. I check people out and give them an opportunity to check me out. And, I write about those interactions.
I am a huge fan of the travel writings of both Henry Rollins and Anthony Bourdain. (I’m so sad that Tony left us. Really, it has been like losing a pal.) However, while I don’t disagree with them that every American should have a passport that is well used, I know that for myself and a lot of Americans travel like those guys do, is a financial fantasy.
But, I can go to City Market in Kansas City, I can go to Cameron, Missouri, I can enjoy and ask questions of the other parents and patients when I take Alex to Children’s Mercy for appointments. I can and I do. And, no one person has ever been anything less than kind to me. For each other, we are the “one that people see” and I think we’ve done ourselves and our stories as good a service as we can.
Recently, I opened up The Ritual a little. It morphed a bit when my pal Josh would join in. Both he and I would set up like we were going to write our next batch of poems and then we would start talking. We’d bounce around conversationally, just like two pinballs in a machine; there wasn’t a topic that either of us could think of that we couldn’t rail on for the two-hour parameter I’d set. Neither of us got any writing done. I don’t think either of us cared.
That said, I’ve left The Ritual as it is now. I’ve put it out there on social media that I’m sitting at the Hy-Vee plaza, in Caribou Coffee writing on Sundays. Sometimes Josh shows up, sometimes he doesn’t. But, I keep the idea of conversation at the forefront of The Ritual. Sometimes, I think it’s more important than the writing that either does or does not get done.
Why? Because now, in this era of social media, we isolate too much. We feel like we really do have 547 friends or followers when really, we’re alone in our rooms with our smartphones, tablets, or laptops. I imagine if the only socialization I got was online, I’d be horribly lonely.
I’m not putting down Facebook or Twitter users. I am one. But, I want to talk to as many human beings as I can before I kick off.
So, if you need to talk, want to talk, or like to talk...
It’s a Sunday Ritual soon and it’s all ours for the taking, and talking.
* not a poem
