[MD] Tail of the Cornball Hitch Hiker

[Dan Glover]

For John,

"You don't do any one thing. That's cornball style."

When we first meet people invariably ask what I do. I know what they
mean. They expect a stock answer so I give them one. Maybe I'll say
I'm a real estate Broker. I might tell them I fix motorcycles. It
doesn't matter as long as it seems like a visible means of support.
I'd never claim to be a writer but I do in fact derive a portion of my
income from writing. As I do from various other sources.

I enjoy writing but like talking it sometimes goes on for too long. A
high wind doesn't blow all day. I believe it's better to say what you
need to say and then shut up. If that's the case though, it would also
seem to behoove a person to say what they wish to say as well as they
can say it.

I've never taken a writing class but I've read a couple books on basic
sentence structure, punctuation, character development, and so on. It
helps, not only my writing but hopefully it also helps those reading.
I don't know about you but there's few things more tedious than trying
to plow through a post full of mistakes. It's clear reading your posts
that you also strive towards perfection and I thank you.

I enjoy bouncing stories off one another. Thank you for that too. And
please, don't think I'm being disparaging. Most times, I don't know
what I'm writing when I post here to the discussion group. Should I
read it over I won't send it. I find embarrassment in my ignorance.

My own private writing is like something I wouldn't want my mother
reading. I keep it apart. Locked away. Like a felony waiting to
happen. I like telling stories but sometimes they end up telling me.
The light stories I share here at times are but whisperings from
shadows of despair and madness.

I started small. A check for a couple hundred thousand dollars would
be dandy. Man. What I could do with that... But when they're
threatening to shut off your electric if you don't settle your
account, an unexpected check for a couple hundred dollars is sweet as
hell. I know. There's opportunity out there. But you know that
already.

Every month without fail Amazon.com stuffs money into my checking
account. Not a lot. But you know what? A trickle here and a trickle
there and suddenly you got a rivulet. Get a few rivulets running
together and hell, it could easily turn into a little stream. Add
these streams of income together, and suddenly it becomes clear that
no particular stream is any more or less important than any other
stream.

Magazines buy stories all the time. You, John, are more than
qualified. Ask Krimel. He knows. Instead of treating words as
throw-away bullshit, treat them as Divine inspiration. Expect payment.
You'll get it. Whatever your interest, there'll always be a market for
good writing.

I can't separate myself from that of which I write. That doesn't mean
I write the truth, though, like an autobiography is supposed to be.
That's all so much bullshit anyway. It's an excuse I've made myself.
It's easier to write about something from decades ago than anything
recent, at least for me. But it's still not objective. Ever. It's
filtered through my life experience.

Anyway, I'll be leaving in a few days and shan't likely have time to
post here for a couple weeks. Thanks again.

Peace and love,

Dan


On Fri, Jan 8, 2010 at 5:35 PM, John Carl <ridgecoyote at gmail.com> wrote:
> For Dan,
>
> You all have heard of sour grapes.   I'd just like to point out that, that
> story of the fox's expression of regret was thought up by a
> watered-wine-sippin' Athenian , with a shrewish wife probably and and not an
> honest-to-god native  Coyote tale of misadventure with the Grapes and the
> lusts thereof.
>
> Coyote's tale ends differently.  Lemme explain through something that
> happened to this guy I heard about:
>
> He was a guy living in Utah.  He liked Utah.  No complaints. Wife and kids,
> flat scenery, so what.  Life is mysterious wherever we are.    Sometimes it
> seemed a little dangerous because the only way he could get to work and feed
> the wife and kids was he had to cross this really dangerous road, full of
> whizzing cars, at night.
>
> Not much fun, and bound to lead to trouble, and sure enough, one night, a
> monday, wouldn't you know,  he was crossing the road to get to work and
> WHAAM.  He gets hit by a car.
>
> Not at all what he was expecting when he'd woke up THAT morning.  And things
> just keep getting weirder.
>
> He gets jammed up in the grill, between the faux front and the radiator, and
> the people driving, just keep going!  They think he's all dead back on the
> road, nothing they can do, car still works, drive on!  California or bust.
>  They don't even realize he's in their grill.  And they keep going till they
>  end up in my home town (pop 132) here, with this guy jam stuck under the
> grill and the driver of the car shocked to find him there, and still alive.
>
> Now.  This guy was a coyote,  literally,  and what he ended up with was
>  something far different than he'd intended.  All he'd known to wish for was
> garbage or rodents and what he ended up with  was California.
>
> His story, all factually actually verified
> here<http://www.theunion.com/article/2009910169963>,
> btw, illustrates perfectly the  point I wanted to make about the difference
> between Athenian foxes and California coyotes.
>
> See, a California coyote doesn't see "sour grapes".  He sees big, juicy
> luscious hanging grapes, lovely and beckoning, so sweet and so  good.  Oh so
> near...
>
> And yet, unobtainable.
>
> Try jumping higher.  Come up with a better idea.
>
> Still out of reach?  Oh well.  They're evidently unobtainable,
>
> but not sour.
>
> If they were sour grapes, then who'd care?  Might as well stop looking
> upward then.  Just give up.  There's no reason to lust or care or strive or
> sniff...  once you've decided the difficult grapes are sour, well they're
> all difficult, they're all bound to be sour.  Screw it.  Why try.
>
> Sour grapes spread like vinegar flies in wine vat.
>
> Coyote doesn't look at the grapes as sour.  He looks at 'em as good,
> delicious and worthy.  That's what keeps him trotting on down the road, his
> gaze up high, his tail wagging and his nose alert!
>
> Now the whole thing that got me started on thinking about sour grapes, was
> something Dan said in a missive recently, that I never responded to, but
> I've thought about.
>
> I have a tendency to think about things.
>
> In case you didn't notice.
>
> It seemed a bit disparaging, which is discouraging cuz I really like Dan,
> but at the same time, encouraging cuz it's always a pleasure being
> challenged by somebody you actually respect, and his disparagement sorta
> triggered some pearlish response to the irritation of his sand.
>
> What's wrong with earning money with your words?  What's wrong with making
> bucks off of quality?  Honestly, I can't think of a single thing.  I support
> it whole heartedly and wish I could suck up some of THEM grapes.  Yessireee.
>  But so far, it hasn't happened to me.
>
> In the meantime, one takes the consolations of philosophy. 'Oh well.  I'd
> rather a qualified audience than a quantified one."   Coyotes philosophize,
> can't you hear it in their cries?
>
> But the one other point of disparagement, the denigration of the individual
> valuing community highest of all, that point was refuted thoroughly by the
> very quality of its proclaimer!
>
> Hah!
>
> Take that!
>
> Because the jibe, coming from outside my individual ideas about my self and
> my plans, brought it to the attention of myself, and,  more importantly, my
> wife, who said, "hey, good idea".  Which means I actually might give it a
> try.
>
> And thus this jibe, did me much good.  And got me going.  And empirically
> demonstrated the superiority of the community over the individual.
>
> Hah!
>
> Take this!
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