Tuesday, April 28, 2009

I'm Not Shy; I'm a Writer

Normally, I don’t like the silence. You most likely will find me talking with my hands, maintaining eye contact and being what most would call a very animated conversationalist.

Then there are the other times.

When my children were young, I sat on the bleachers at ball games isolated. I rooted at the proper times, and bragged on them at the proper times. Otherwise, I sat alone looking somewhat down during the rest of the game. Some people tried to start a conversation with me. Some probably thought I was rude.

There are times when I look for characters and times when I develop the characters. Attending a ball game and sitting alone watching people, I look for characters. What brings the young professional with the well-manicured fingers, a golden tan and not a clue on how to play the game to the ball field? What does he and the older gentleman with the mismatched socks and the 70’s style shorts find so hilarious in their conversation? Of course, I will never know. But it’s at those times that I develop the conversation in my imagination. What could the commonality be?

I like sitting at the chairs in the mall and observing people. I like sitting at airports and watching people. I like watching people in the grocery store. And yes, I like seeing what’s in the shopping cart and writing a story around it in my mind.

Friends and acquaintances shake their head and wonder what is bothering me. My family and close friends have come to expect it.

So if you see me out somewhere, don’t be shocked or insulted if I look like I am in another dimension. In fact, I will go ahead and answer your questions now:

No, I feel fine.
No, tell me your name anyway just in case I have forgotten it (I probably have).
Yes, the aisles aren’t big enough for two carts. It’s okay to pass.
Yes, I have plenty of shopping to do. I just sat down a minute to rest.
Yes, I see you. My hearing is fine. But wave your hands in front of me and call my name.
Yes, I saw it. I agree. The ump needs glasses.

And finally…
No, I’m not shy. I am a writer.

2 comments:

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  2. Whoops, I deleted my comment. I'm having blogspot account troubles...

    Be honest, that man wearing the 70's style shorts and mismatched socks...was that Dad?

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