Weekly Fortune Cookie—No matter how hard you try, you can’t please everyone…

You know, someone decided to give me some advice on the art of writing the other day. He proceeded to tell me that I should only write about things that I know.  Well, I guess I’m shit out of luck. I’m not bragging or boasting but I can tell you that I’ve lived a fairly uneventful life. I found my soul mate at the ripe old age of 15 and we are still blissfully married. I’m a Vietnam era veteran by just 16 days so I enjoyed all the military benefits but never had to fire my M16 at anything more than a paper target. I have a few ailments that come with age but nothing serious. I’ve always worked in jobs that payed far above what my education should have allowed. As a child, I was never molested, abused, abandoned, tortured by terrorists or lost in the woods to be raised by spotted owls. I come from a very large and very loving family.

Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes along the way but nothing that I have to look back on with regret. So what would I have to write about that might have any significance to the rest of mankind?

Then I remembered, Tolkien really never lived in Middle earth and Bradbury had never been to Mars. Gene Roddenberry couldn’t have piloted the Enterprise, JK Rowling never attended Hogwarts and Stephanie Meyer didn’t hobnob around with vampires and werewolves?” 

So stop trying to please everyone else and do what you feel is the right thing for you.                                       

Real Life Friday – This Blog is not an Autobiography

I’m asked quite often if the stories and poems I write are really all about me. I have to honestly answer, that most of the posts on this site are pure fiction. Although, most of the time, it’s a pretty thin line that separates fiction from reality. I mean, let’s face it, writers by nature are liars. We make up stories. Our talent is the ability to create something so believable that it’s hard to distinguish it from the truth. Not that the story isn’t based on fact…just maybe not the real fact. There’s often a good reason we tend to ‘embellish’ things a little.

Let’s just take a quick peek at the first ten years of my life for example. That’s 87600 hours. Sounds like a lot. A person should have a ton of stuff going on. But for 29200 of those hours, I was asleep, dreaming of childhood things. The really bad part is that some of those dreams were probably the highlight of my existence.

Now that leaves me with 58400 hours. Before I started 1st grade, I just played around the house and goo-goo-ga-gaed a lot. That took up about half of the remaining hours.  Of the last 29200 hours I was in school getting thumped on the head by Old Lady Conway for about 11200 of them (that really explains a lot). So that leaves me 18000 hours of nothing much going on at all. Sure, there were a few memorable moments scattered about. Things like the first day of school, some birthdays and a few funerals. Let’s say, maybe 24 hours of anything with enough action to justify the cost of the ink to put it onto paper.

So don’t fault me for trying to spice things up a little bit, you know, just a pinch of a white lie to add some flavor, well maybe a dash or sometimes even a whole handful. So what of it if I’ve changed a few names here and there. Maybe I might have turned a her into a him. Who’s to say that my favorite four legged friend ‘George F. Bungle Dog’ couldn’t talk to me.

But I’m getting old now, and I’ve decided it might be time to lend a little truth to my life. So I’m going to dedicate all Friday’s to postings only true stories. I’ll call the series, ‘Real Life Friday’ (what a shocker right) so all my children can get a better idea of just who their old man really was.

You know, answer that age old question; if not for who I was, would you be who you are. Or better yet, you know what I did, so don’t do that.

Two year anniversary

Original post 5/7/2017 

 Welcome to The Backyard Poet

In my never-ending quest to show the world my foolish attempts at creativity, I have decided to join the blogging community with my new blog site ‘The Backyard Poet’. I know what you’re thinking. But Jerry, the river of information we call the internet is already jammed full and with so many blog sites out there now it’s dang near impossible to navigate it. Yet, here I am adding my two cents to the congestion anyway. But hey, the way I figure it, it really doesn’t cost you (as a reader) a thing. For me, it will only take a little more of my time and we all know that’s just about the only thing I can afford. I’m too old to do anything else anyway, so I might as well be pestering you. Besides, it’s another way for me to push my opinions onto an innocent and unsuspecting world.

So if you just washed your hair and there’s nothing on TV then jump on your phone, tablet or whatever device suits your fancy and go to www.thebackyardpoet.com to see what all the fuss is about. If you don’t find anything of value well, ‘No Harm No Foul’. Just maybe you’ll like what you see though. If so, sign up for the newsletter so you won’t miss out on anything. I would hate to see some great words of wisdom wasted. We all know there are a few things that I am full of and I don’t think they smell like wisdom.

Well friends, it’s been exactly two years since this first post proclaimed that I would be the next great thing to hit the blogging world. As I go back through the archives, I see that I had a few moments when my mind was lucid enough to put together a few readable words. I guess I thought at the time that age would let me slow down a bit and enjoy a quieter life of writing, reading and sticking my nose into everyone’s business. Alas, sad to say, that the problem with getting older is, although there is less to do it takes twice as long to do it.

Now I’m not going to promise you that I’m going to set the blogging world on fire, but I will promise to give it a better try. So thanks for sticking around my friends.

Fiction at the Speed of Light

In the high speed world of social media blogs, the quality of our poetry, fiction and even the full length novel is forced to take a backseat to sheer quantity. Even the best literary work can only demand the attention of the masses for a miniscule amount of time. It’s not that our readers have short attention spans. It’s the pure amount of information that bombards them every day.

As an author my only hope is that someone will read a piece of my work and enter a Google search to see what else might be worth reading. If they like what they find then perhaps they’ll share their knowledge with a few friends. Without a large volume of work put out into the digital world, I won’t stand much of a chance.

So this is why I write flash fiction. Not because I’m fat and lazy, with the attention span of a four year old. Not to mention that my typing ability only involves the index fingers on both hands, and sometimes you’ll find them swinging around in circles trying to remember where the comma key moved to. Plus, it’s a good way to reduce the unfinished project pile.

Do you remember the year?

Well John and Mitchy were getting kind of itchy, cause it was kind of a drag to not be groovin’ on a Sunday afternoon. So I said we’re going to San Francisco and I don’t care how much money I gotta spend, so we can fly. Here, the hometown looks the same but, you’re gonna meet some gentle people there and the rows of houses are all the same and nobody seems to care. Nothing is real and there’s nothing to get hung about. So there’s not a trace of doubt in my mind that when logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead, you can either stand in the pouring rain or hide behind rainbow’s wall.

Now, it was on the third of June, another sleepy, dusty delta day you asked me if there’ll come a time that we’ll go riding along on a carousel. I thought you looked too good to be true. You told me, “I aint never loved a man.”

But baby, I need your lovin’ and I know what you want…baby, I got it.

So let’s spend the night together and don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow. Then, all over the world you can hear the sound of lovers in love.

That’s when we skipped the light fandango because we both knew that all you need is Love.