\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Adam told to write about the Ice Hotel and dipping into the frozen river with Marianne. He thinks I can develop a story that follows on one I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d already written about cold water swimming in Maine. Start there, weave into it last year\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s obsession with White Pond, add a dash \u00e2\u20ac\u201d am I mixing my metaphors? \u00e2\u20ac\u201d of Qu\u00c3\u00a9bec City and voil\u00c3\u00a0! the blog lives again.\u00c2\u00a0 But I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t because it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s so all about me. Mainecourse is full of what I see as\u00c2\u00a0 my woe-is-me will I ever find happiness sob-stories. How do I write about stuff I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing without it being about stuff I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
KO: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Write it in the third person.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You always say that. The third and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m still me, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to write in the\u00c2\u00a0 sixth or seventh person.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
KO: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Breathe, Michael, breathe. First those stories aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t as self centered as you think. Secondly, the third person gives you more freedom to play. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll have less obligation to stick to the truth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not that I do anyway.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
KO: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not that you do anyway.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Time passes and no new stories magically appear on this here blog so\u00c2\u00a0 Adam offers less work: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Post a bowling photo <\/a>and link it to the bowling movie<\/a> — how\u00c2\u00a0 hard does it have to be … ? Or do you fear the slippery slope of re-immersion & expectation … ?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n Bowling? Yeah, bowling. Compare our passion with Ralph Kramden’s and the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hurricanes.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d\u00c2\u00a0 Maybe begin with Ralph yelling at Alice, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hurry up with the eats, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going bowling,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d\u00c2\u00a0 because often at our table it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s something like, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d we start dinner so late we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got to get bowling.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Pick an Oak,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d was a toe dipper. Water\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s warm.\u00c2\u00a0 This next one could be a dive off Caroline\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s pier, and if so, then I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d hope to have more than voyeurs. Here goes.<\/p>\n *****************************<\/p>\n In the depths of last summer\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s humdrum,\u00c2\u00a0 Matthew and friends chose Wednesday nights to meet at the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Drome,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the local candlepin (small bocce-like balls) alley down the street across from K-Mart and the only McDonalds in America to have gagged on its own grease and gone belly up. \u00c2\u00a0 Why Wednesday? 1960s prices: A dollar a string and two bucks for a beer. Some nights Matt and his crowd commandeered multiple lanes, and he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d return home with stories of his high scores and near fistfights. I remembered my early competitive days bowling against my roommate, Jim McMahon, and later taking Matt and the foster kids to what was then called, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The Bowladrome.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n But this latest entry is not going to be\u00c2\u00a0 about Candlepins and little balls, this one, or the upcoming one which I hope materializes, is about big balls, chainsaws, and ice.<\/p>\n *****************************<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey, Matt, I need an editor. Your mom\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gone and I have to have someone tell me I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not embarrassing myself before I embarrass myself. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like to keep it in the family and you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re a writer.\u00c2\u00a0 Will you read my latest attempt to get the blog rolling?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sure, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n (Thought bubble : You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d like that?\u00c2\u00a0 What, no, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is this punishment for living in the same house with you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d)<\/p>\n Matt reads this while I burn an omelet with cheese, veggies and beans. \u00c2\u00a0I hear a snort and a laugh which I take as good signs. Then he looks up from his computer, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I like the way you say you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re going to write something and then you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Or that I act like I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to write about bowling but don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t? Or is it more like saying I’ll finish a job like the bathroom and then don’t?”<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153 And, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d take out the pick-an-oak sentence.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You mean I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t publicly pressure people to help out here like they did in the \u00c2\u00a0old days?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Adam told to write about the Ice Hotel and dipping into the frozen river with Marianne. He thinks I can develop a story that follows on one I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d already written about cold water swimming in Maine. Start there, weave into … Continue reading