Doin’ the “What Comes Nacherly”

Pictured above part: of my nearby turf, Springfield, Illinois, three blocks southwest of the State Capitol building last Sunday morning, Is this a nifty city or what?

Naw, this posting is not about that famous musical about the Juicy Fruit addict called “Annie Get Your Gum” . . . . (RIMshot); it’s about the second-most natural activity I enjoy and one of the few that require clothing at least some of the time. I call it “writing.”

A friend of mine, who missed his deadline for the neighborhood association newsletter I produce and edit (with the help of contributing writers and Capitol Blueprint) wrote to me after deciding to contribute nothing at all this month,”I guess VHNA is not as high on my priority list as it should be.” I responded, “I imagine there will be a day when I feel the same as you . . . . . . but I hope not.” For all of two or three days every month, producing our association newsletter is the number one priority in my froggy life. Why? Because it needs to be proofread and to the printer, back and distributed to about 10 block stewards no fewer than five days before our association’s monthly neeting. I volunteered for the gig, and when everything flows as it should, I am in my natural element.

There are times when I could fill the ten pages with my own rambling and pictures, but for the sake of our readers — paying members in the main — I will never be a yammering “prima llama” (Spanish translation; figure it out) in that newsletter, pontificating ad nauseum, . . . . I mean, HEY — THAT’s what BLOGS are for!

Since taking on the Arcadia book about Springfield aviation, Arcadia has asked me to write two more books for them. That’s high flattery to be sure, and one is a definite “will do” but I’m still playing catch-up after getting the manuscript draft to them in late April. The PROOF of that book arrived today (Thursday), and they want my feedback in a week. So plans for “catch-up” are on hold again. (sigh)

I almost want to say “It hasn’t helped that I’ve sustitute taught three of the past four days,” but it’s the only thing that HAS HELPED. That action is almost the only activity that keeps me this side of a refrigerator crate domocile. A full-time employer is the answer, but it’s a whale of a lot more elusive than it ought to be. Writing books (at least at this stage) doesn’t pet anything but my vanity. Same thing with the neighborhood association newsletter. An editor whose name you’d probably recognize, looked over the May issue of the NA nl, and said “I hope VHNA knows what an asset you are to that organization.” I wanted to say “Their appreciating my effort is almost beside the point. I work as hard as I do with it because I’m a writer who appreciates any opportunity to be doin’ the ‘what comes nacherly.’ I am made by doing it as well as I had hoped to do it, again, with the help of contributors and production people. My vanity is smooth from soft patting hands of words. My real estate tax bill is stark, naked condemnation!

There was a sign in classroom at Lincoln Magnet School where I taught Wednesday. It was all poetry, all day, a terrific class. I’ll tell you about it in a future blog. The sign said “You aren’t finished when you fail. You’re finished when you quit.” Foo dat ai yam . . . . I believe it.

Live long . . . . and proper.