Listen: I am trying to write like I
did in the old days, before Tim Joe Comstock, before the Trailer Park
Cyclist, before all the fame and the millions of dollars that were
showered upon me...
Wait: The millions of dollars...
Dangit! I knew I left those Bitcoins
somewhere...maybe behind the refrigerator...
Great. Now I have to start over.
Here's what I'm thinking. Gravel
bikes. I only own three bicycles and (apparently) zero bitcoins, but
I know a cool bicycle when I see one and now I am (kinda) drooling
over this Salsa Journeyman:
(non-existent photo)
In the old days I was pretty poetical
and got all manner of accolades for writing moody and soulful stuff
about dead relatives and awesome bicycle rides and how cool I
am...was...dangit! Is that a dangling participle? Why do we have to
worry about participles, dangling or otherwise? In fact, I am
reasonably certain that almost NOBODY uses the word “participle”
in daily speech. I sure don't.
(Incomplete
sentence/contraction/possible dangling participle.)
So, here's whats groovy: the same guy
who wrote the definitive book (along with some guy named Strunk) that
tells us the Elements of Style was also the guy who wrote Charlotte's
Web.
But let's face it. The old days are
gone. Bicycles have disc brakes now. Fat tires are the norm. Old
Tim Joe can't even come close to remembering how he wrote way back
when he had an element of style. But all the same, here we are.
(there's another one. It's like flies in here.)
Here's another thing: Once I started
to get some readership I got all excited and looked up stuff on the
web about how to get and keep a following. Mostly it involved
pictures and short entries that could be read at work. You know,
ways to screw your employer out of office time. It seems that 1500
word posts fit in perfectly between a restroom break and a stop by
the break room. It's sad, really.
The thing is, when I write honestly (as
hard as it is) it takes me awhile to get it all figured
out.
I have to wander around. I have to
type and type until things coalesce, I have to think about today and
I have to think about yesterday and I have to think about what it is
I am thinking about. That is what I did back when I only wrote for
myself, before other people saw what I was up to and what was
happening in my world. Each day is so full of surprise and dangling
that I cannot see how anyone can comprehend it all without taking
notes.
So the truth is, it ain't easy. All of you know what I mean. Moments of distressed clarity, a glimpse of what should be, what should have been...but what of that? Here we are. Here are we.
Speaking of notes, I have my Pandora
station set on Joni Mitchell. So while I type this we are getting
Joni and James and Carly and Carol and Stephen and Neil.
So OK. There ya go. I am still Old
Tim Joe, I still live in a trailer park. This is pretty much what ya get from here on out. Maybe something about gravel bikes, if I remember.
Yer friend, Danglin' Tim
Whispering Pines Trailer Park and
Mermaid Cafe
Sept 15 2018
