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Diffusing the F-Bomb

If you have read more than a few posts on this blog, first off--thank you. I know it's a chore sometimes. And I know that these unchartered, free-flowing waters of my mind aren't always the most navigable. And sincerely, thanks for coming back.

You see, I'm a writer.
And I want you to read my books when I publish them.

I'll come back to why those two sentences are two of the hardest I've ever written in a bit.
But back to the blog.  If you have been here before, you might find that as the years have progressed, my infatuation with a certain four letter word has recently blown up in to a full-on-sell-the-condo-and-move-in-together-in-a-little-starter-home-and-oh-yeah-I'm-allergic-to-cats-is-a-dog-ok kind of thing that Hollywood power-couples envy in their Hollywood PowerCouple hearts.

That's right...the F-Bomb.
At first it was for effect. Could I be edgy? Could I be that guy?  I could...sometimes. Or at least I could get in to that guy's head as I was writing. Much like facebook, a good portion of what's on this blog is a character. And another healthy portion is really me.

Eventually it just became easier. I got lazy.  Why say "when I looked in to her eyes, I found that I no longer had any command of the English language" when I could easily say "wow--she had the kind of eyes that let you know you were f**ked for other women" ?

Both work, I guess. But one is more real-world Todd. And the other is fictional-author-archetype Todd.

Perhaps, that's not the best example, but you get the point. The fact was a good shielding word.

My dad thought that I started using the word in my posts more when I put my weight back on. He wasn't trying to be a dick about it. He likes reading the blog, and the change in tone bothered him. I get it. And I liked his candor about it. There was a time I would have been hurt by it. But these days, that man is one of my closest friends. So, I dug the feedback.

But it's not just when I started putting the weight back on.

The weight started coming back on because I stopped exercising. Summer of 2013. After I got hurt in the Warrior Dash, things started going down hill. That was my first summer as a single man. The divorce wasn't final. Wouldn't be for another 5 or 6 months.

And I was facing the reality of what my life was becoming.

Or rather, I was faced with the reality. Facing it implies I was meeting the challenge. In some respects I was. In others, I was handling it like a whiny punk.  It was quite the mindfu- er...My thoughts reeled in that swirling nothingness that often accompanied a mind in post-coital bliss; void of any logic or reason.

Initial injury to knee....PT...chiro....then through aggravation and repetitive stress, I got arthritis diagnosis in my shoulder/neck. That led to chronic pain. Stenosis in my spine. Bulging disks. And invariably, the surgery I went through 3 weeks to the day of this writing.

I got lazy. Where words once danced in my head, now they shuffled through the cloud of pain that was constantly there. Sometimes below the surface. Sometimes raging like an angst-fueled college kid after a sportsketball match.  But always there.

Thoughts were slower to form. Dropping the proverbial f-bomb was quick and easy and mostly said what I would have said anyway.

It's no excuse.

A pro will always use the tools at their disposal. A master photographer can make art with a cell phone.  A world-class athlete trains with the gear they have. Never do they say, "I can't be the best unless I have the best gear." That's backwards. They get the best gear by being the best. And at that point, the tools enable them to master with ease.

Words are my tools. These books and stories are my magnum opus. Sure...I can tell a story with the words you give me.

But I am ready again (some would say finally) to use those words that fit me better. The slime of chronic pain is fading with each passing day and I have no doubt that as I have in the past 3 weeks on several occasions, I will continue to wake and face each day.

Time to get to work.

I have worlds to create. And, as Stephen King would say, darlings to kill.

As for those two difficult sentences I mentioned earlier? Hmm. I guess you'll have to come back and see about those, won't you?



LuBird said…
But it's such a fun word. I get what you are saying. However, at my age I find my filter is very thin.
Todd S. said…
Oh it's a very fun word. But I just need to do it a little more judiciously...

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