Your Blog’s Not A Waste Of Time

Prairie Fires and Faerie Pyres, Part 3

As a kid, I remember when I learned that the word ‘NOT’ is not really a word. It’s more of a suggestion. One Friday night, I said to my parents, “I’m not going to go to a party with Rob.” Of course, that’s exactly what Rob and I did.

As a consequence, Mom said, “You are not going to drive for a week.”

Later, Rob asked, “You grounded?”

“For the week,” I said.

“That sucks. I still want to go see Batman Forever with Jim Carrey.”

“Tim Burton is a better director, Michael Keaton a better Batman and Tommy Lee Jones a better criminal.”

“Which one is he?”

“Richard Dent.”

“Who?”

“Two Face,” I said. “Not that it matters. I can’t go. Are you going with Jamie?”

“I’m not going on a date with your girlfriend.”

On Monday, Dad let me drive. Mom got angry at Dad. “I’m not angry with you,” she said to him. “I’m angry with Tom.”

Later, Buddy told me that he saw Rob and Jamie at Batman Forever and that “Two Face kept flipping a coin until he got the result he wanted. Can you believe that?”

——
Dee was drinking alone at a table for four. I was surprised. She liked to say that she timed her entrances to join a party, not start it. The truth is that I have to rush her so that we are on time.

She kissed me a moment too long. “I had a great day at work, honey,” she said. “In one of the craptacular meetings that Mr. Dickless likes to arrange, I told him that he was wasting my time.”

“Craptacular? Is that even a word?” I took my coat off and waived to Stanley hoping he was smart enough to send me a beer.

“Then the division head said he didn’t see the need for any more of these meetings.”

“Pissing off your dickless boss?” I asked her and sat next to her at the table set for six.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t like me any more.”

“He’s craptastic and crapstipated.”

“He deserves awful urological problems.”

“That is a fate,” I said, “that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

“I would,” she said.

“So cold.” My beer arrived. Stanley is a smart guy. “Your boss,” I toasted. “The craphound. Cheers.”

She finished her drink. “I need another Cranberry Smash,” she said to a waiter.

“When did you start…”

“A few weeks ago,” she said.

“That’s Buddy’s drink. What is it?”

“Yeah, it’s a carbonated Cosmo,” Dee said. “I love the fizz. I borgarted his drink when he was fighting with C.”

“Are we celebrating?”

“I want to make sure your head’s in the right place by the end of the night.”

“And what place would that be?” I asked.

She said, “C and Duke are joining us soon I think.”

“I told Buddy.”

“Are you OK? You look tired.”

“I worked all day on a project. I sent two revisions out just to get it finished. My client responded almost immediately with another ten pages of shit.”

“More work,” she said. “That’s good.”

“I’m wasting too much time,” I said. “This client is a waste of time, but at least I’m getting paid. I might cut way back on my other writing.”

“Your blog’s not a waste of time.”

“It’s a waste.”

“It’s the best writing you’ve done since I’ve known you.”

Her reassurance just fed my growing doubt.

… continued

——

Prairie Fires and Faerie Pyres

Part 3: Your Blog’s Not A Waste Of Time
Part 2: Put Your Head Somewhere Else
Part 1: Showier Prose