January 15, 2025

Prepare to be amused (or annoyed; your choice)!

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Look To The Late Boomers

Don’t be bamboozled by my imaginary dashing good looks, au currant use of in-vogue expressions, adroit employment of texting abbreviations, textisms, textese…

I’m old.

How old?

Very.

Like “Grampa needs you to pick up whatever he dropped on the floor because bending down that low registers 20 out of 10 on the ‘never getting back up’ risk scale” old.

And that’s without the benefit of grandkids. Or kids. Though I do have 2 step-daughters who do have husbands and so, by extension, grand-kitties and grand-doggies. My stepdaughters cunningly inherited my “Go / No Go” childbearing verdict.

Early dreams of writing date back to my nerd youth, trapped on a Vermont dairy farm. My friend Kenny–also a miserable farmboy who wore a Rocky the Flying Squirrel hat with flapping ear warmers–privately confessed he, like me, wanted to be a writer. When I heard him answer the inevitable, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with “Veterinarian,” he explained, “Dad only believes in professions where he personally knows somebody already doing it.” Kenny lived on a farm in Bridport, Vermont–population < 1,300.

That’s today’s Bridport population, while that conversation was, lessee (how old I was before our move subtracted from current age), 65 years ago.

Wait, is that even possible?

That would make me, ummmm, 71 (72 soon, assuming I make it).

Yup, math checks out.

To tell that 7-year-old kid he’ll still be hoping to finish book one 65 years in the future – soul-crushing. And would still be today but for 3 factors.

1. Old is not dead.

2. I have written; non-books: including magic acts, comedy routines, humorous speeches, essays – some award-winning.

3. Professor Baumwoll.

Dr. Baumoll scrawled red ink on my essay about Flannery O’Connor’s A Good Man Is Hard To Find: “A failing effort.” Referring to my essay, not O’Connor’s short story. Or a good man.

But no red “F.”

Still, words less than encouraging.

I confessed my fear that my rewrite might be even worse. “That,” Dr. Baumwoll said, “is impossible.”

He later admitted, much to his shock and awe, that I had achieved the impossible.

Long story shorter (too late?), he recommended I take a course on essay writing.

Of all the courses I took as an undergraduate–starting as a chemistry major and ending as a religion major–that essay course was the most valuable. I worked very hard – for a change. 

It didn’t make me a great writer, it didn’t even make me a good writer, but it did make me a better writer.

However, it is not even Dr. Baumwoll’s excellent course recommendation I treasure most, rather it was one of his favorite expressions: “Look to the late bloomers.”

Perhaps 2025–at the no-longer-tender age of 72–is the year a Boomer’s book blooms.

If not, there’s always next year.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

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You Call That Progress?

Is 2025 Still New?

What’s a writer without crap?

I don’t mean crappy writing (which I produce in abundance, thank you very much), I mean stuff. 

Real stuff. 

Physical stuff.

Writing stuff.

Pens, 8x11 paper (blank and lined), 5x8 note pads, 3x3 Post-It Notes, 3x5 note cards, 3x5 note pads, pegboard pegs (to hang note pads, clipboards, Post-Its, scissors, stapler, tape, and more) computer (the cooler the better – not “cool” like “chilly,” “cool” like “kewl,” like back in the 1960s), second monitors, file folders, file organizers, magnetic whiteboards (1 hanging, 1 desktop), magnets, magnetic markers, desks, tables, chair, marker pens (permanent, not erasable), more paper (I’m never going to make my mark in this world as a paper savior), domain name, and website hosting (https://www.rogeraford.com/).

All purchased this past year. Well, not the stapler, scissors, clipboards, or desk – my spare kitchen table, the benefit of blending two pre-married souls, has served as my desk for 25 years.

Kewlest is my new iMac. Not having to schlepp my Macbook Pro from the living room (where I sit in a my 25-year-old Aeron chair at a drafting table/desk while watching TV) is just one of the boons. iMac’s large, bright screen is way dope, fresh, fly, gas, illest (Google: “other ways to say ‘cool’”).

I also enjoy my new, larger, brighter, second monitor. I gave away my older monitor so now I have just one on my writing desk/table and one for my living room desk/table or when I travel. Warning: working with 2 monitors is addicting.

I bought a couple tables. To make my desk a “u-desk” flanked with more space for drafts, sorting index cards, storage, and more, while my new desk organizing rack holds still more drafts, notes, current projects, ideas for future projects (assuming my survival), and pens (I have lots of pens but my writing pens are Pilot G-2 click gel ink bold point pens in blue and red – I buy refills and use the same housing over and over and over – I also use a lot of ink).

 Do I really need all this crap just to write?

Maybe.

Wait and see if 2025 (I started to write “19__” – I’m old – but quickly self-corrected) IS this Boomer’s blooming year.

Are YOU a Late Bloomer?

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“See” you next episode!

Same Rog Time; Same Rog Email!