Pie in the Sky

I have twenty minutes to blog. That may sound like enough given the drivel I pour out like water from a clear jug (why clear? Poetic license). But it put me under the gun. Well, I put me under the gun.

Today is Friday the sixteenth of May twenty twenty five and I have a pie in the oven. That's not a metaphor, I actually have a pie in the oven. Apple banana to be precise. It's a new one for me. Never put the two most popular fruits in the world together before. Never put the northern and the southern hemispheres together before. Never did a lot of things before and maybe this pie is an allegory for life.

If I were going to do things I've never done before baking a pie would be pretty low on the bucket list. So, I ask myself, what are the things that put a hemisphering confection at the foot of the table? Good question.

When I was a kid I thought it would be fun to be a stuntman. Stuntmen got to drive fast cars, ride fast horses and jump off really tall buildings. Fun, right? Until I took a ride up the Space Needle. Keep in mind it was an inside elevator with clear glass doors. Every time a concrete support beam rushed past that altogether too flimsy exit I stuck tighter and tighter to the back of the car. And on the platform? Forget about it. I tried to look over the edge but it was pretty difficult since I was holding the railing with locked arms full stretch the other way. Afraid of heights? Duh. So much for stuntman.

I've often thought it would be fun to skydive. (See previous paragraph). Then I ask myself why I'm adventurously attracted to things that involve heights. My one great irrational fear. The only answer I can give is radio.

When I was a little older kid I was in the back of a band bus coming from some competition or other. We were telling jokes. The bad kind that band kids tell. A couple of the older ones said, "What do you get when a polar bear slides down an iceberg?" Silence. It was a brain twister and we gave up. "Radio!" And they laughed and laughed and laughed, because the joke was on us. It made no sense because it wasn't supposed to make sense. That's heights for me. It makes no sense because it's not supposed to make sense.

Then where do I stand on doing things I've never done? I think once you've been around the block a time or two the things you haven't done become things you have done. And, the one's you haven't are left because they're not right. They're not right because they're not you. I applaud a kayaker who goes over a waterfall but that's pretty much the extent of it. I don't want to dive nose first into a churning cauldron of g-force water at the bottom of a sixty foot drop. Call me crazy. But, there are things I'd like to do. Drive across Canada, for example.

I guess, at the end of the day, if you're going to bake a pie it should be one you'd eat yourself.

It's been twenty minutes and I need to get back to work. Writing. And rehearsing. You know, maybe I've already done things I'd never do and didn't realize it.

No updates to the fiction quest but I am getting a little traction with auditions.

Be blessed. Resist when necessary https://www.fiftyfifty.one/ and love your neighbor as if your life depended on it.