“Hey, Bill, there are a couple roofing tiles about to fall off the garage roof. Any idea how that happened?”
I had a real good idea how it happened. I had kicked them loose while jumping off the garage roof, something I was forbidden to do. I knew it, and my dad, who had asked the question, knew it. The only question remaining was this: do I tell the truth, and risk punishment, or do I try to b.s. my way through it, and risk worse punishment?
I knew I shouldn’t do it. Hell, I’d been punished for doing it in the past. But it was so much fun, climbing up on the roof and then jumping over to the neighbor’s yard, pretending to be Superman chasing the bad guys. It just seemed, at the time, to be worth the consequences. Facing my dad’s question, and his stern look, I was beginning to question my choice.
Grounded for a week . . . not bad . . . could have been worse . . . could have been much worse . . .
I’ve always been that way. Risk is usually pushed aside in favor of the experience. It probably explains why I’ve had so many jobs. Sure, it would have been nice to work at the same place for forty years and collect a great retirement, but at the same time it would have been dull as hell.
It also explains why I’m a writer today. The safe bet would have been to remain a teacher until retirement, but eight years ago I laughed at the same bet and declared to all the world that I was a freelance writer, hear me roar!!!
And it all worked out, and one reason why it did work out is because I trust in my abilities.
I’m not sure what the central message of this post is. There are several, actually. Maybe you’ll find one which speaks to you. In the meantime, I have more roofs to jump off of.
Bill
“Helping writers to spread their wings and fly.”
Billybuc
Artistry With Words 