And so it begins.

 

“Write something worth reading

or do something worth writing.

~Benjamin Franklin

 

When I was 4, we lived a block and a half from the Fox River in Neenah, WI. I shudder to think of it now, as an adult who survived my own kids growing up. But at 4 I felt very old and very independent. Which btw, is a feeling that has never left me. Anyway, I would sneak off to Doty park on the river, and stare into the future and wonder where that river would take me. Which of course, got me in lots of trouble. But what can you do? You gotta do, what you gotta do.

Just before my 5th birthday, we moved out to the suburbs west of town. Possibly in large part, because my parents wanted to get me away from that damned river...

In the years that followed, I learned that the Fox river was connected to the ocean via a series of locks and the great lakes and the Mississippi and the St. Lawrence Seaway. Having read Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer by that time, I knew that my destiny was to travel by water. I “needed” to be Huck Finn...

A few years later, I read a quote that has haunted my entire life. “Write something worth reading. Or do something worth writing.” ~ Benjamin Franklin. As a result, two things have happened. A. I have been haunted all my life by the need to do something worth writing. And B. in my sometimes aimless search for an epic adventure, I have always come back to the water. Which finally at the twilight of my life, brings us to today.

From a very young age, I had people telling me I should be a writer. When what I wanted was ADVENTURE with a capital bloody A. So, I applied to the USAF Academy and got accepted. And when I went to personally thank Robert Thom, (High School Vice Principal, Mentor, Friend) the man I feel should be wholly credited with my acceptance, he told me, “Tim, I know you have your heart set on being a pilot. But I think you should be a writer.”

My response, which I regret to this day was, “nah, that would be too much like work.” And the look of disappointment on his face, haunts me still. Rest in Peace, old friend.

Sadly, what Mr. Thom did not know, was that my motivation for wanting to be a pilot was that I thought it would be a grand adventure. And that telling girls I was a pilot would get me laid more often than telling them I was a writer…

Hey, I was 18, cut me some slack.

Although recently, a friend blew up at me and in the process of dressing me down, he accused me of being a Sex Obsessed Geriatric. To which another friend who was witness to the event said, Gee Tim, I didn’t know you were Geriatric…

All of which is to say, I’m still working on having an epic adventure. On doing something worth writing. But, in the meanwhile, I think I’ll do some writing… Hopefully, it will be worth reading.

-- Much Love.

Tim