Over the years, Jared has been my champion. He's provided endless feedback. He's foxed typos, endless typos. Ha! Fixed endless typos that I don't catch ever after proofreading my own writing three times.
"Can you read my sh/t?" I ask him. "I know you're busy, but can you read my sh/t?"
"I love to read your writing. Would you like me to read it now?" he says.
"Yeah, ok. If that works for you. And, I'm feeling really raw tonight," I add. "Can't really take anything negative."
"OK," he says.
Can you believe this? Can you believe what he puts up with?
While talking about this blog, where it is going, where I would like to take it, Jared asked, "What do you have to offer?"
I am honest. I have also told lies. I told one lie that I thought was rather modest, and that lie came back to haunt me. Nearly killed me. No lie.
Mostly, I am honest. Honest in a tell-all kind of way. Honest in an embarrassing way.
I still have secrets. Plenty. But, ask me a question, and I will tell you the truth. Don't ask me a question, and I will tell you the truth. I will tell you more than you want to know. I will tell the truth as it stands at that moment. Truth does change.
There are many times when I have driven home from past jobs, parties, dates, get togethers, chats over tea and crumpets, and thought, "Wow, I just said a lot." I get a Wiley E. Coyote in mid-air over the chasm kind of feeling sometimes.
Right now, I am reading a book of as of yet unpublished poems by a friend. His stuff is good. Really good. Americana. It is an amazing soundtrack to this road trip I am on.
I can't wait to tell you when his poems are published.