The joys of writing

“I think all writing is a disease. You can’t stop it.”William Carlos Williams

To be or not to be?

I agree with this. Writing is an affliction difficult to control, and when you start, there is a good chance that you will be hooked for life. As a matter of fact, there ought to be a warning label on your keyboard alerting you to this hazard.

Everybody has hobbies… at least I hope so because if you didn’t you would be a very dull individual.

Personally, I have different side interests, one of which is a fondness for writing. To be candid, I always had a fertile imagination. As a child, I had to write school “compositions” and I always enjoyed making up stories. I was of course writing in French, but it does not make any difference. Writing is writing, regardless of the language.

Writing is also a very stimulating occupation. I call it the “gymnastics of the mind.” To be good at it, you need regular practice, stamina, agility, and occasionally, a square split.

Everybody has a different style and a distinct way of putting a story together. My style is irreverence laced with humor. My very name predisposed me to this; when I was a child every kid naturally called me “effronté” (a play on my name) which in French means cheeky, brazen.
With a name like this, I was clearly destined to be irreverent.

When I tackle a subject, I put pell-mell on paper everything which springs into my mind about my chosen topic. It is like building a house; you bring all the needed material and put in on the ground next to where you plan to build your dwelling. And then you start assembling.

A computer, by the way, is the ideal writer’s helper. When summoned, it instantly helps to authenticate whatever you write about. I don’t think that I could manage without it.

I might write for an hour or two and then take a break. A text is like bread; it has to be kneaded and rested a few times before rising to perfection.

I often sleep on a story and wake up in the middle of the night with a new idea. This is why I sometimes don’t turn my computer off for a few days. I can then get up and easily insert a new turn of phrase to my story.

Writing is above all a kind of introspection. It reflects your thinking and often forces you to reexamine your values. Why do I dislike a certain person? Or a certain philosophy? Why am I enamored of this idea?

Whenever I write I don’t need a confessor; I bare my soul in my scribblings. I always hated anyway the idea of revealing all my dark secrets to a priest. What good would it do me? And this guy might use my confessions to write a best seller thus depriving me of making a bundle with my escapades. No, I would rather confess to my readers than to a bible thumper.

So, if you feel bored during those rainy days, try your hand at writing. It is not easy but the most difficult thing about it by far is to start.

“You can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.”Jodi Picoult

Alain

How really old are you?

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you was?” Satchel Paige 

January 1972

An interesting question. Next Epiphany I will become an octogenarian but if you ask me, I would say that I have the mindset of a 50-year-old guy. It is a question of mind over matter. If you fastidiously tally the years, you will feel and act ancient, and to me, it is a regressive, annoying thought.

The older wiser I get, the more I realize how ignorant I am; as a result, I am still eager to learn. If you don’t, you capitulate. You admit defeat and surrendering is not in my nature.

I am curious; this is a quality, not a flaw. Every day I feel the need to learn something new and the internet is a fabulous, non-judgmental teacher.

Seated at my workstation, I can speak to my computer and ask any question that will be immediately answered. For instance, when I asked Siri (just to make sure) how old I was, she said “you are 79 but don’t look a day older than 29”
Useless to say that Siri is a close, trusted friend.

In order to feel alive, you need to always have something to look forward to. A picnic, a date, a play, a dinner… You need to keep your mind engaged and your sense of humor sharp.

One “older” member of our pétanque brotherhood recently took up parachuting. He might look ancient but he is acting like a like a Spring Breaker. Many kudos for that. This is exactly what I am talking about!

The company of young people helps you to remain in the loop. It is a mutually beneficial agreement and both parties gain something from this arrangement.

My friend Charlie is a shining example of what it means to remain youthful. He is not afraid to mix and challenge whippersnappers and often best them in many activities.
His secret weapon is the fact that he is ambidextrous. If he cannot do something with his right hand he switches to his left hand. This is patently underhanded but everything is fair in the game in love and pétanque.

“We don’t stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing.” George Bernard Shaw

Laughter is the best medicine. Furthermore, it is much cheaper and way more efficient than any magic pill advertised on the tube. Laugh about everybody and everything. Unlike some middle eastern countries, we can (and should) poke fun at any official who routinely misleads the public about his questionable deeds.

And regrettably, there is a lot to laugh about (or cry) in these present disUnited States of ours.

Alain

Birthday

Minette and Minou

Yesterday Jean-Claude Etallaz Esq. celebrated his 75th birthday… in style. Between 60 to 70 people, too numerous to mention by name, responded to his invitation and travelled to Vacaville to show their esteem for “Minou”.

It was a fairly lengthy ride but fortunately, traffic was fairly light and it did not rain .

Upon arrival, guests were presented with a sumptuous display of edibles and refreshments. Tables and kitchen counters were overflowing with a variety of edibles, pastries and exotic liquors worthy of Lucullus.

I was told that “Minou” and “Minette” labored for an entire week to prepare this feast and the results were truly impressive. Every dish was made by Jean-Claude and I have to tip my hat to his savoir-faire.

When I complimented him for his effort, he told me “I had to do it… it happens only every 25 years” to which I replied “you can count on me, I will definitely attend your next celebration”.

Guests from various pétanque clubs came from far and wide, many totally unknown to me. Among my friends, I noticed Gilbert and Agnes Sonet, young Noah Sonet who is growing taller by the minute, Jean-Michel and Ellen Leznik, Alain and Evelyne Marchand, Sabine and Roger Mattei, Antoine and Eva Lofaro, Patrick Vaslet, Mireille, Michel Rattaire, Alain Gusella, Serge Hanne and Gustave Foucher.

A little later in the afternoon, Jean-Michel led a spirited group’s rendition of Happy Birthday (in English and French) followed, naturellement by an even more vibrant delivery of La Marseillaise.

Then Michel Rattaire grabbed his trumpet and played a few military tunes with his usual dexterity. If you ever need a bugler, hire this guy; I guarantee his authenticity.

Full to the rim, and afraid of bursting we left this bacchanal around 2:30 pm. Ever the classy guy, Jean-Claude presented each departing guest with a little bottle of home brewed liquor.

If he ever runs for office, be sure to vote for him. He is the real McCoy and he will never let you starve.

“Happy birthday Jean-Claude! May your Facebook wall be filled with messages from people you never talk to.”

Alain