You’d think he’d have learned by now to take a moment before grabbing us from his nightstand drawer. Maybe if he kept us in another room where he’d have to actually get up it would remedy our relationship. He repeats his ritual most every night. He’ll wake at all hours, snap on the lamp, scrawl his ideas and in the morning can’t read a single word he’s written. He is an author after all, or thinks he is. Me, the paper, and my partner, the pen, have no active role, yet we get blamed, maimed and thrown toward the trashcan. Maybe tonight when his inspiration hits, he’ll actually wake up, write the first line of the next best seller and be able to read it.
Carl “Papa” Palmer of Old Mill Road in Ridgeway, Virginia, lives in University Place, Washington. He is retired from the military and Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) enjoying life as “Papa” to his grand descendants and being a Franciscan Hospice volunteer. PAPA’s MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever!