Saturday, October 29, 2005


Snoopy types: It was a dark and stormy night.....

I have had some great outings on dark , moody days. I have missed the sun lately. The sun has snuck out now and then in the past couple of weeks but not when I had an opportunity to see it.

I have tried lying on the beach because this is supposed to be appealing. Umm, for me its not. Dang, someday someone has to explain lying, laying, lie, and laid to me. There is something about a chicken and an egg. Never mind, to continue…

I don’t get soaking up the sun on a beach. Then again, I don’t get meditation. My mind is a meat eater, a real carnivore.

At last Monday’s general committee of the City of Cambridge Council a well-known developer appeared as a delegation. In front of council and forty of the general public he described Mr. Bob Paul as ruthless. This was the joke all day on Tuesday and continued all through the week. Now the gentleman that called me ruthless, I admire very much. His description of my actions was an honest opinion. An accurate one too I think.

But it adds to a myth, a myth that I encourage. Now the gentleman in question, lets call him John. Why?… because his name is John. He is a man of action. John doesn’t wish to be told that things can’t be done. That is a waste of his time. If you wish to speak with him come armed with solutions and not problems. He is a good man with a wonderful heart. People don’t get him. I do.

John isn’t a sun soaker. There is nothing wrong with being a sun soaker. He ain’t one and I ain’t one.

There is the diver and the dive. One is an action and the other is a person. When I coached diving I ‘d tell the diver how they might improve their dive. I would praise the attempt and give constructive advice. This is the way we learn. When I bring writing to the editing circle, I thrive on opinions on how I may correct and improve my writing. And I soak up being the centre of attention for a few minutes. Last editing circle… blew me away. Everyone’s writing and the story telling was mesmerizing. I comment on story because honestly I am a poor editor. I would not be the type you wish to proof read. And comments on my writing... well I am not there to soak up the sun… Any attention to my writing is sunshine



Marianne said...

"Mr Sun, Sun, Mr Golden Sun, please shine down on, please shine down on, please shine down on me...."

Yes, I agree. Thursday night writing was particularly skilled, wonderful.

We are different, you and me? I like to play in the waves, yes, but sitting in the sun on the beach is quite lovely, too.

Hey, I figured out who the character in your new story is - of course, David's grandfather...

Leslie said...

I used to soak up the sun, now I can't sit still. Too many interesting things to do in life, while I am alive, still above ground. The sun usually comes into my consciousness the most in my garden (since beaches aren't terribly accessible around here). And there are so many wonderful things to do in the sun in my garden. Pull weeds. Take Blackberry the cat out on his harness and leash, watch him roll on the patio stones. Rearrange the garden figures. Put Murray the rat in a new place. Or Harry the Heron. Clip some bushes. Put seed in the birdfeeder, watch the chipmunks come out. Keep Blackberry from catching the chipmunks (don't laugh, he caught two mice while on a leash this summer). Pull some more weeds. Level a patio stone. Water the hanging pots. Clip the hedge...
The sun has to find me in action at this age, no longer sun worshipping from a chaise lounge. Hell, I don't even own a chaise lounge anymore.

Now the beach is another story. I'm good for about an hour in the sun there, then it's swimming and drying off and swimming again.

Sounds good on this November day.