This blogging business is new to me. I wonder if anyone has happened upon "Golden Pond?" Were my writings quickly dismissed? Did anyone read any of the posts? Shirley, someone has stumbled upon it. But did they stay and read? My blog has no hype, no exciting pictures, no wizardry of modern technology to enthrall the reader. Just the written word. And as chronicled in a recent foray, most of the writers appear to be on the liberal side.
I have read the various left-wing accounts, and they are similar to the right-wing accounts. Left-wing bias? Bah, humbug. Provided you are are liberal. Right-wing bias of the media? Shirley, no one believes that. But I will leave it up to the political pundits to hash it out. Plus, trying to sway voters ain't my thing. Their agendas have been fulfilled a long, long time ago.
Me, I've got to publish or parish, er, perish. This line is reserved for my friends in the bayou. And lately, it's been difficult. Can't seem to come up with any subject matter. Don't ask me why?
I could write about getting a haircut today. The barbershop is a throwback to the 60's. They've got the little pole on the outside, and they're closed on Wednesdays. The owner is a guy in his 50's with hair down to his mid-back. He is balding in the forehead region and systematically pulls his tresses into a ponytail. There are two other barbers, both in their late 50's, early 60's. Typical, average Joe. Tho Chaz has his glasses hooked to his ears via strings ( don't know what you call them ) allah a secretary.
They smoke cigarettes while performing their expertise on your scalp and try to engage you in small talk. The tv is normally turned to NASCAR or a football/baseball game?
"Do you like racing?" the owner asked of me. Let's call him Pete.
I usually like to sit in the chair and try to relax, so his question startled me. And I never could "get into" cars going around in a circle for hours upon hours. So I lied.
"Racing's cool." was my answer. I know Kyle and Richard Petty, who is the spokesman for Goody Headache Powders. And Fireball Roberts, who died in a fiery crash back in the day. And Darrell Waltrip comes to mind. And Dale Earnhart. But that's the extent of my knowledge.
"You like to hunt? Chaz just bagged a deer." Pete asked.
I was dozing-off as the whirring sound was tickling the hairs in my ears. His question reminded me of the trauma felt when Bambi's mother met her waterloo, so, again, I lied.
"Hunting's cool," I mumbled.
"Want some of Chaz's venison steaks?"
For some reason, my mind drifted to H.W. ( my employment venue ) After dealing with raw chicken, bloody livers, inside/outside rounds, chopped beef, halibuts and the like, etc., the idea wasn't tempting-makes a fella want to become a vegetarian. So, again, I lied.
"Sure. I love venison."
Pete wheeled the chair around in front of the mirror for my approval and perusal. He had given me the obligatory "medium." I noticed the balding forehead and the graying hair, and once again, I lied:
"It looks great, Pete."
"All rightee, cat. Pull up to the door so's Chaz can load up your car."
Driving home, I kept glancing at my new doo and grimacing while looking at the steaks.
Yeah, the blogging biz is getting into my blood. ( apologies to the venison steaks ) Where do we go from here? Will Golden Pond become a safe haven for liberals, or will they denounce it as a refugee for right-wingers? Only time will tell.
For now, it's farewell and adieu time, v.c., your irreverent host.
P.S. Publish or perish, eh?
1 comment:
Who is your publisher, and where might I buy a copy of any of your books? I would like to get a haircut at your barbershop.
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