If you don’t know who Lloyd Dobler is, watch the movie Say Anything.
If you don’t know who Lloyd Dobler is and you won’t watch the movie (for whatever reason) just go away. Or stay, but don’t expect me to describe the power of Lloyd. Which reminds me of one of the jillions of challenges of writing–choosing who to address. Am I addressing only those people who find Lloyd as emblematic of awesomeness as I do? I guess so.
Remember His iconic speech at the dinner table?
“I don’t want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don’t want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don’t want to do that.”
Phrases from that monologue have been wafting around my thoughts this morning. Except rather than pondering selling and buying, I’m pondering blogging. More than a week behind on my pledge to blog daily during the month of December, the last thing I want to do is another post about blogging. And yet, here I go. I might as well be selling something bought or processed. It’s all tail chasing. When I want to be tale chasing. Storytelling. Writing.
What does Lloyd have to do with this?
“So, what I’ve been doing lately is kick-boxing. Which is a new sport. But, I think it’s got a good future.
As far as career longevity, I don’t really know, because, you know, you can’t really tell. You’re trading six as a fighter, you know, but it’s no good, you know, you have to be great, but I can’t really tell if I’m great until I’ve had a couple of pro fights.”
My kick-boxing–my work–is writing stories, not blog posts. I’m still in training. Have I blogged lately about the humility it takes to start training in one’s forties? It doesn’t matter. Must move on. Must keep going. Must focus. Must be more like Lloyd. I can’t really tell if I’m going to be great until I put in hundreds more hours. It could be years before I get a pro fight. Blogging (and thinking about blogging) has been getting in the way of my work. Bye, Holidailies; sorry for the flirtation. ’tis a new season for me.