Sunday, December 26, 2010

Eschew Obfuscation

Only Captain Domesticado would use words that would inspire me to write. I have been absent from the World Wide Web, to my most earnest chagrin, for fifty-four days. This, one might say, is not an acceptable state of affairs for the next Great American Author. While that may be said, the certainty is that if there is nothing being written, then there must be a level of acceptance within this scribe which sanctions such indolence.

Be that as it may, I am, in my own defense, having an inordinate measure of difficulty from the wretched collection of ones and zeroes which resides on my desk. It is somewhere between five and six years old which is nine hundred and sixty eight in computer years, and sorely wishes retirement from the daunting task of servicing this wannabe next Great American Author. I neglected to put the desire for a new writing instrument on my letter to Santa this year, opting instead for the latest tome from Ken Follett. This was not an all-together faulty choice given the impoverished state of my personal economic circumstances, and my love of the written word...especially this certain author’s methods of writing words. Additionally, there is also the fact that my personal Santa’s elf (My Sweet Deifiúr) would not know what to buy me, or find the money to purchase said instrument of enlightenment.

But I digress…well, all right…obfuscate.

I embarked this past weekend on my annual pilgrimage to the homestead of my Sweet Deifiúr and Captain Domesticado for the delightful purpose of welcoming the Lord Savior into our lives once more by celebrating the anniversary of His birth. Long trips in a motor vehicle have become somewhat of a chore for me due to my many infirmities. This year it is my hip, which is in need of surgical replacement. I have to stop several times to rest and remonstrate along the way, which makes for a long journey. Upon arrival, I am greeted by a bumper sticker on Captain Domesticado’s Volkswagen Rabbit stating the phrase which is the title of this piece. I chuckle as I read it and know that I am once more in the warm embrace of the kind, loving, intelligent bosom of my family.

The inspiration for writing came from that part of me which is illiterate. I suffer from a malady where it comes to reading that I believe all writers encounter in some form or another. There are just too many words in the English language to know or remember. I stared at the bumper sticker, thought about it, and realized that my understanding was not secure in what the message truly was. I know that I have used both the words “eschew,” and “obfuscation” in my writings. Actuality I believe I might have used those same words as a title for another piece my faithful readers have trudged through while attempting to make sense of the obfuscation that is much of my writing. Unfortunately, the decrepitude of this reluctant senior citizen has made my memory suspect more times than I am disposed to admit.

I successfully resisted the urge to get the notebook computer out of the back of my truck and correct the situation. I told my folks that there would be something written provoked by the bumper sticker. Then I shut up because I was too embarrassed to admit that I did not know what it meant. This is not an entirely comfortable state of mind for a former middle and high school English teacher.

Having the luxury of time and distance from that disturbing incident, I am prepared to move out of the ignorance and into the light. Where that light is and what color the bulb is escapes me. I am ill prepared to grasp the depth of my deceit. I know that I should stop the melodious meanderings through the thesaurus and speak plainly. I realize that there is a level of boredom in my writing, and I resist the change. I am, at heart, a writer of fiction and publish these mental meanderings as a tool to keep my mind and fingers sharp. I appreciate the love and respect that my readers, those few brave souls, offer me. I appreciate that while I did not readily know the meaning of the bumper sticker, it was not so much a problem as a solution. How do I arrive at this simple solution? Get off my lazy ass and write.

Peace

2 comments:

Glen said...

You have a way with words and sentiment, your ramblings are far from boring and "meanderings" of a welcome nature. I totally enjoy your blogs and our friendship. Love ya!

angie said...

enjoyable read sir. i don't know if it's me or what but found a most pleasing rythym to your wording. thanks timothy! for sharing your literary life with us. i didn't need to reread or double back to try to keep up with the story line, it was a comfortable read for me...though i am not of the intellectual variety i offer my humble comment.