Tuesday, December 28, 2010


I have never been able to tell a good joke. Rusty can tell a good joke but not me. The only thing funny about me telling a joke is I am trying to tell it all the while warning people of the punchline or telling them about how I can't tell a joke.

Kinda like, There was this guy.

Really this is such a stupid joke but the only one I remember.

And he got off work.

Seriously don't hold this against me.

And he was crossing the street.

Dude, this joke is not even funny.

And on,
and on to what feels like infinity.

At the end neither one of us are impressed by a punchline, we just laugh 'cause the joke has reached it's not so funny conclusion. We celebrate that it is over.

So you gotta figure that if I can't tell a joke then why would I try to tell a story. Hell if I know. Yet I am going to try and tell a story to put in a book with at least ten incredible artists, photographers, musicians, writers and poets. Let us just say it is a bit of a daunting task. It can weigh heavy. These other people in this book? Well, all I will say is that it is an honor to stand next to them. To tell a story with them. They are some of the best.

My story is going to be to my great great great grandchild, or let's just say a person in the future with which I identify but will never meet. Maybe me later down the road, maybe Slater down the road. I don't know but right now I am trying to consider my audience. Who is that kid? That young adult? Maybe they are a full on adult. Are they a boy or a girl? Blue or brown eyes? Curly hair? Do they smile often? Dare I hope laugh?

What story do I tell them? Do I tell them a story about my grandfather? My Dad? My Mom? Slater? Jason? Josh? Kim? Angie? Priscilla? It seems like they should know everyone. So I wonder how to put everyone in my story, all the great characters of my life fitting into a compartment. And I think surely that is what I will do. I will need to write a story involving those characters. A funny story to make them smile.

And it could be that this blog will begin to represent some backstory where I struggle to make this perfect, finally get it to where I can walk away from it and, by the end of February, submit. Place in the world's hands my story to that person. Tell him, her, maybe a set of twins, the one thing I can tell them and walk away.

I'm sure there will be some gratitude.

Carving by Josh Miller

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