Life, post-9/11

Back in 1998-99 or so, the singles group I was in at church had an event downtown, “Where’s Wesley.” Me and a friend, Bill dressed up as Waldo and the Wizard and wandered around a downtown mall and the statehouse as teams of 5 hunted us down and followed clues we had hidden. It was all very hush-hush. No permitions from either the mall or the statehouse. We even hid little pictures of me all over the statehouse–taped to statues and under displays and such.

And this all took place on a Saturday afternoon. About 75 folks rushing around the statehouse shouting and causing no end of commotion, not to mention two freaks dressed as children’s literature characters–and the state troopers didn’t even blink.

Can’t do that today. Today, the statehouse has exactly one entrance available to the public, and NOBODY gets past the lobby without permission.

I know it’s rather inconsequential in light of some of the real changes since the September 11 attacks, but in a small way, it is representative of the freedoms we’ve lost since, in the name of security. I no longer have the right to just careen around government offices creating pandemonium (as long as I’m not disturbing the peace). I have to check in and get approval first.

Sigh.

1,000 Words: The Coyotes of Silver Moon

Starting out with just a little under three hundred words to begin with, so there’s that. Don’t know if I’m going to hit my target for today regardless. I mean, I will, there’s no doubt about that, I’m just not sure any of it’s going to have anything to do with the story.

See, Mrs. Wesley and I had another chat tonight, about how I’ve shirked my responsibilities with LCT this year, because I haven’t listened to the music—which I haven’t—and haven’t gotten in touch with the others on the team I’m supposed to be leading—which I haven’t.

It wasn’t so much a discussion as her telling me what she thinks I need to do, and me understanding it, even if she sees it differently. Unfortunately nothing is ever easy. Instead of her saying her piece and letting it go—which, admittedly, she’s done several times in the past. But each time I was ready to leave, she would ask, “so what are you going to do about this… tomorrow?” That turned a five minute lecture into a 45 minute cold war. She asks questions that demand answers, and I just don’t have them in formats that I can express or that she can understand.

Even as I write this, I’ve had to stand up and pace around and vent at least three times, wasting maybe 15 minutes because I can’t concentrate.

Okay, four times now.

That’s part of the problem with how I write. I have to clear my head before I can get into the story. I’ve got to put everything in my head down on paper. And everything in my head right now is my frustration with the wife and how I feel about the whole LCT thing.

Here’s the fact of the matter. I don’t really want to do LCT anymore. It takes up too much of my energy year after year. I enjoy being a part of it… sometimes. But the truth is I don’t often enjoy being there. That’s not true. In the past, when I was a cast member, I had often thought about dropping out, and there were years I did bail out completely, or nearly so. I just wasn’t having fun in rehearsals or performances very often.

Now, I’m in charge of them. I think I can really bring something new to the process. Hopefully, at least. But now it takes up even more of my energy, and I’m not really up for it this year. I mean, I have a couple of ideas to take the burden off my shoulders. An internship program where I would pick a few people to follow me around and learn a little bit about what goes on in the making of these programs. And then I’m going to ask the high school seniors to take charge of the younger kids.

750 words and counting. I’m tired and frustrated and scared and upset.

How am I supposed to enjoy myself this weekend now? We might as well not go, because I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything except LCT now, am I? Right now I’m thinking about how that CD with all the music on it for the program is sitting on top of my CPU, and I’m here writing about how I don’t have the time to do anything with it, because I need to get my thousand words in.

But here’s the thing: LCT doesn’t do me any good for my writing. If I’m supposed to be a writer, if I’m supposed to be writing, then any time I spend working on something other than my writing is not time spent efficiently. Therefore, any time I spend fussing about LCT is really just wasted writing time.

I’m thinking right now that I should just can this weekend and devote it to storyboarding for LCT. That would be the rational decision. I’m not going to have any fun this weekend now.

I don’t have time to read. I don’t have time to write. The only thing I’ve done for the past two nights is watch old episodes of LOST that aren’t even that good, when I should be doing something else.

…and that, dear reader, is how to finish my 1,000 words on a low, low note.