Commitment and/or Chocolate

Ah HA!  Inspiration has finally struck.  I’m Back in the Saddle Again.  I got myself in a fit or two of doldrums, and had nothing to say.  Or nothing I wanted to listen to myself, much less inflict on my public, such as they is. And so I’ve been doing some new art, (and I’m quite pleased with it, thank you very much), and playing more guitar on the porch.  The weather certainly has been cooperative – we had Fall for about 3 days and now it’s worked its way up to actual Warm PLUS (almost damned hot) out there in the sun, and I’m more ready for balmy or crisp than Hot these days.  It’ll come.

And so, it happened, that I got an email from a friend a while ago, and in the midst of a short reply  before a promised long one he asked the question that follows, never imagining its impact. I started this little epistle as an email back to him – it was going to be a couple of sentences long…. but hello, here’s the inspiration I’ve been waiting for.  So I rearranged my comments to him to make them more “public.”  Be aware, that if you ask me a question or render yourselves fodder for my evil pen, that I do guarantee anonymity, as I think I’ve said already somewhere.

Happy Fall, Y’all

(Merely imagine someone asked here…… “Dear Queenie,)

… why do I commit myself?”

Well, here’s a thought…..  speaking only for myself, of course….

We commit because sometimes it feels nice to have friends.  That there are other creatures on the planet that care enough about us and enjoy our company enough to actually invite us to do things with them.  That’s all a wonderful thing, unless, and it sometimes happens, that certain undesirables or people who are somehow not in our best interests show up and we spend our time on them, (like the commodity it is), and we have to make decisions about how we spend that precious time.  Sometimes it feels really good to be alone and solitary, and sometimes it borders on anti-social.  I am never “alone,” at least not yet, as long as my mother is alive, and luckily she is pretty damn fine company, and we entertain ourselves well or not at all, whatever way the wind blows.  We let each other be each other, with minimal quibbling about it all.  Sometimes I have to take a stand, however, and it’s always interesting to see how those “take a stand” things turn out.  I’ve been at the end of several “Take a Stand” Roads.  Sometimes you end up alone on them.  I’m still making my peace with Being Alone. Which is why Friends are so important, and we must choose our friends wisely…. in order that being with them means that things are better in the world for being with them. Sort of like that.

Meantime, I’m finding it harder and harder to break away from the “comforts” of home, even though I have declared myself a Road Warrioress and ready to take on most things.  Sometimes I wonder.  My friends sometimes think I’m “out there,” but they have no idea of the way my vagabond friend lives and travels about the country.  Hell, I hardly have an idea of the way he lives, (another warrior of the road but with far more credibility and credentials…. Bona Fides), but I do more so than some several of my cohorts who are very adequately comfortable in their lives.  Except perhaps for emotional uncomfortableness which is never avoided, really, if you’ve got it.  But it can be well dispelled if you amuse yourself with such things as Road Trips and flinging yourself down the Grand Canyon in a raft.  I may have but one more fling left in me, unless I toughen up, and quit falling down – being very not present when both falls happened.

Goodness, I’ve evidently missed writing.  I think I’ve just written the next Queenie Column.  Thank goodness.  I have been very uninspired until now. Ha. Now my friend finds himself in Queenie’s World whether he likes it or not.  And I HOPE he understands that I say that with a smile.  Pretty funny, actually. And absolutely fair since he included me some time ago in his ramblings, (nameless of course, thank you), and as I would expect of any fellow writer, relatively complete anonymity is always guaranteed.  It ought to be obvious that I don’t name names.  Hell some people might pay me NOT to name their names, or else they’d say they were going to sue me, depending on many sociological factors.

So I thank my friend for asking that question, and I hope he’s not sorry he did.  I hadn’t intended it to inspire me into this Dear Queenie Column thing, and it isn’t,  really.  No one is purposely asking me questions, and probably nobody ever will again, now.  A few people do on occasion ask me questions about Life, and seeing as it’s NOT MINE, I am perfectly capable, even qualified, (if your standards are low enough), of telling them how to live it – not as a Have To, but a Want To.  (That’s that other subject I haven’t totally gotten to yet…..)  It’s always so clear to me how everyone else MIGHT live their lives, perhaps even in the quest for Betterment, but I draw the line at telling them they Must, or Should……maybe sometimes a suggestion of a How might find its way to the fore…… except when it’s perfectly obvious to just about every other breathing human being with a scintilla of a functioning brain cell that there is a fairly obvious signpost on the road.  But some people are just who they are, and damn well like it that way, no thanks to you, very much, and then the road signs change. Ah, Life is a Road Trip……. what a concept, and here it is, happening on these pages, Queenie Says:  Life is a Road Trip.  Yep, better watch those signs.  You can get lost out there, maybe injured.  And sometimes you just have to get used to being alone, until you choose not to, in whatever flavor that takes.

And speaking of flavors, Chocolate, I might add, is not always a wise choice for a new best friend.  You always get what you want from her, and then you say you get tired of her and escort her out for a while… even denying her effect on your life.  But you just seem to keep taking her back.  And then, no matter what epiphany you’ve had regarding her presence in your life, even if you think you’ve decided otherwise….. sometimes she just won’t go away.  She’s moved in permanently, having declared Squatter’s Rights on your hips.  Mere Notice of Eviction does no good at all, (she cackles at Intentions), and you’ve got to call in the troops, declare war, as it were.  (And we all know how I feel about war….)  And she is a mean thang.  Even if a truce has been declared, she’s never far away.  Maybe you’ve got a system.  Maybe you live in separate houses and only see each other on weekends.  Whatever.  You better choose those friends carefully.  (Only a suggestion, mind you, never a Should.  But then….. you needn’t be a dumbass.)

And yes, we know, it couldn’t POSSIBLY be Chocolate.  That’s like calling Marilyn Monroe bad names.  Let’s just blame it on the potatoes and gravy, and let the games begin.  Well, actually, it could be the butter.  Goodnight Mrs. Calabash.


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