Unblocking the Block

writers-blockI haven’t posted a scrap of writing here in almost a month. Quite a falling-off since the time I used to post daily, even IF some of the posts were musings about deodorant ads, or the Expire-By sign on a Tylenol bottle found in the back of my medicine cabinet (1989!), or the sight of lashed-together porta-potties sailing gaily down the highway on a flatbed truck.

I can’t account for this silence without boring everyone to death so I’m just going to begin again here, and by way of breaking this quiet streak, resolve to start each post with a “Today I…” and see how that goes. But as one famous scribbler once famously said, nothing interesting happens to most writers after childhood – bad news for us all – and since I am today paddling quietly through the waters of a lazy weekend, I’ll go back a few days in search of something.

So: Last Monday I could have (and should have) written this:

Today at the airport, a pig appeared at Security, inching along in line just like the rest of us. Though the pig was following all the rules and was connected by a conventional leash to a conventional-looking young woman, its porcine qualities uh, shall we say…stood out. It had a long skinny tail that it was wagging, a sleek body ending in a head on the scale of  Winston Churchill’s head if you think in terms of us humans….

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…And it was walking on tiptoes, as pigs do, given the anatomy of their feet. Of course it also had that one-of-a-kind piggy nose, a delicate flower of an organ that seemed to tremble minutely in reaction to the foreign smells surrounding it.

People were staring at this pig in utter astonishment, remarking to one another and pulling out their phones to capture a picture. It was as if Noah’s arkful of specimens had never settled crookedly on the peak of Mt. Ararat at all.

It’s true that a TSA person immediately hustled into the line and ushered the pair away but then didn’t both pig and person appear again? Yes they did: on the safe side of Security where I found myself sitting beside them as I pulled on my boots and the young woman pulled on her shoes. Since her pig  was already wearing the ‘toe shoes’ Nature gave it – the young woman and I had the chance for a few words.

“Is the little guy anxious?” I asked, noting the foam gathered around its mouth.

“Oh God no,” the young woman replied, adding almost wearily, “We do this all the time.”

And with that the two trotted off, leaving me to marvel yet again on the sometimes-damnable quiet of my own usual days. But silent no more I here vow! Henceforth I’m going to by-God look for fit musings whether about adventures large or small, and come back to report about them here.

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