Today was a little creative in an unexpected way: I started a new blog. And no, you can’t see it.
Mike Mitchell, who teaches PE at Newnan Crossing, approached me a couple of months ago with a proposition: he and I should collaborate on a book, 100 Things to Do Before You’re 60. I had plenty of things to keep my busy and told him so, but still, it’s a good idea.
However, now that William Blake’s Inn has stopped for a moment, I figured we might tackle it. But how? At work, we might go days without seeing each other. How could we possibly keep up with the amount of work it takes to write a book?
And what should this book look like?
Yesterday, I had a scathingly brilliant idea. Mike is fairly conservative, and I, of course, am not. He’s an ex-military PE teacher; I’m an effete intellectual. Why do not do it like a dialog between us, sort of like those silly newspaper columns where two opposing writers take turn making comments? We could tackle serious issues, we could do some funny stuff, we might even agree.
So of course I decided to set up a blog for us to work on together. One of us can post a Thing to Do, and then we can both comment. Great way to get stuff out there, and we can edit later. And no, you can’t see it. It’s our private workspace for the time being.
I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
80 days to go.
You’ve overturned so many rich and fertile opportunities for commentary with this new field of endeavor, I don’t know where to begin.
So #1 would be A SIGNING AT SCOTT’S BOOKSTORE. Many have aspired to such a thing before the fatal cut-off age. Others have given up hope and are resigned to being well into their seventies and with Nobel Prize in hand before enjoying such a distinction.
Just how much existential guilt are we expected to bear?
Please tell me the predominant rhetorical mode of this will be irony.
Or will it be in earnest–two highly trained superegos letting us have it?
It’s way too soon to tell, but I think we’re offering 100 suggestions, not a do-and-then-die checklist. So no guilt, just disinterested observation?
And I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the balance of cheekiness and earnestitude.