I owe you all an apology for a post that I wrote earlier today. He Is Dying A Long Slow Death isn’t about a friend. It is about me. I am not dying and it wasn’t my intent to suggest that anyone was. The goal was to write a silly post about my hair and its decision to retreat. The idea was to portray a conversation that I had with my own reflection but I didn’t do a very good job of it. My apologies for misleading you because it certainly wasn’t my intent.
I didn’t realize my mistake until late this afternoon and by that time I was on the road and didn’t have access to the computer. Hence this apology.
I write. It is what I do. I am a writer. I love words and find it immensely enjoyable to use them to construct structures that relate thoughts and ideas. If you are among the 17 long time readers you know that I want to write books and screenplays.You know that given my druthers I would blog for a living and spend my days using these words to create tapestries of sights and sounds. So I write and I write and I write some more.
Sometimes the extra writing yields major benefits in that it helps me become more polished and proficient. But practice doesn’t always help a writer realize that his or her idea isn’t being communicated well or effectively. Again, my apologies. And now on to the next post.
Thank you. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I tend to compose at the computer and then hit publish, rarely proof the blog. Sometimes it bites me in the butt.
I had a feeling that the writing was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but I didn’t know you well enough to approach that subject. As someone who is starting to get the jumping hairline, I understand your feelings. 🙂
It was very, very well written.
I read that one first, but I got what you had intended. I thought it was much more creative than anything I could have come up with. That’s probably why I stick to recipes 🙂
Recipes are a good thing…perhaps too good a thing. Food is one of the great pleasures in life.
I’ve written a post or two like that. Whoops! But, I hear you on the hair. I mourn my good friend the waist. She was lovely, for the 27 years I knew her. The last 8 haven’t been the same.
I’d be happy if this is the worst thing ever to happen..unlikely. As for the waist, well some people might say that it is the price of being a mother. Me, I keep my mouth shut and just nod and smile- much safer. 😉
Jack,
I appreciate the apology. I’m glad to understand that you are well. It’s a miracle [grin] that you’re all better now.
The writing wasn’t poor. It was powerful. In hind sight, it lacked a sense of proportion and responsibility. As you came to understand from the comments, you put your credibility at risk. Like the boy who cried wolf.
It’s amazing how words can have unintended consequences. Isn’t it more amazing how friends and strangers can put their hearts out there for you? You sure got some unexpected love back. That must have been a ball buster. Obviously, it was.
And since we’re talking about words that draw an unintended picture – “dark haired beauty” suggests a kinda creepy, complex problem when you use it as a reference for your daughter. [laughing]
May Uncle Ben’s words haunt you. Forever! [grin]
As I tell my children we all make mistakes the important thing is to learn from them.
Jack:
I am really glad you are in good health. I rejoice for you and your children. Carry on my wayward brother. [grin]
As someone who is a multiple stroke survivor with almost no physical problems to mention, I really could sympathize with the grim determination of that post. And I know plenty of people who feel the same. Including myself.
In my case, there’s no structural problem to identify the cause of my strokes. At least, there’s nothing to be found by ordinary cat-scans. The brain stem can be mysterious. On the other hand, the electrical activity of my frontal lobes at rest is twice the activity of active frontal lobes. I’ve been given medicine to prevent a stroke from occurring but the side effects are unacceptable to me. In a manner of speaking, it dumbs me down.
To be or not to be…
So I have chosen to risk taking a hit by a stroke – even a fatal hit – rather than take the medicine and, thereby, not be me.
That wasn’t an easy decision – especially because I’m a daddy too. A shitty daddy for various reasons that are and are not my doing – but a daddy just the same. John Thomas (Johnny) turned 6 this January. He’s awesome. Johnny’s the most wonderful little dude. He deserves a better dad.
Here’s a semi-recent pic of me and him: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=277587&id=704673414#!/photo.php?fbid=450901373414&set=t.704673414&theater
Anyway, I put my life and ability in God’s hands. He’ll keep me around or not, disabled or not – according to the big plan. Until He makes a decision, I do what I have to do and, hopefully, many amazing things along the way.
Hopefully, this comment is not professional suicide. It could very well be. That depends on how popular your blog is and if it gets indexed by Google with a search for my name. Anyway, I thought it was important enough to share with you and your readers my own fears and struggles as they relate to this post and the other one.
Cheers!
P.S. My most recent post is: JakeB, Randy Pausch, Life Lessons, and Servant Leadership http://wp.me/pbg0R-7u
Your thingie is buggy. [grin]
Which thingy is buggy? Your son looks like a happy boy. We all have to do what works best for us and brings us fulfillment and happiness. Sometimes the hard part is navigating the hurdles that come along with it.
Well, baruch HaShem. Thanks for the clarification.
At least you know that you can write one helluva powerful post.
With great power comes great responsibility- thus spaketh Uncle Ben. Unfortunately Peter didn’t listen and Uncle Ben got burned.
Jack, you hack! 🙂 I didn’t read your post, but now will have to do so. Thanks as always for your honesty. . . -Jared
Hack is write. 😉