Or in this case, the keyboard.
Yesterday, Beth mentioned that she read my latest blog entry about baseball. After recovering from the shock of finding out people still read my weblog, I re-read that entry and boy does it suck. I think my writing has gotten worse. I know that writing is just like any other skill. Lack of practice begets rust and I have to start writing again.
Of late I've been uninspired.
But I'm toying with an idea that may get my creative fires ... uh, firing(?) again. Let me know what you guys think of the idea.
I think I'll start doing some creative writing on the 'net somewhere. Maybe on lit.org, where lots of would-be (wanna-be?) writers post stuff. But I've been thinking... lit.org is good if I was a glutton for abuse (like people who try out for American Idol) or if I were in need of attention (like people who try out for American Idol... or women who get breast implants).
And I'm not much for American Idolatry.
So maybe I'll just start posting fiction here on dftf. That way, my loyal readers (all three of you!) get first crack at my writing. And your praise, if any, won't be insincere. Nor would your criticisms, if any, be overly harsh or mean. And anyway I would like to get you guys involved a little.
Translation: I've got writers block.
Start me up! (c) The Rolling Stones. Give me a small idea, or an opening sentence and I'll go with it. I may or may not use anything but hey, you'll kinda sorta feel more involved, won't you?
p.s. My Boracay Shark Tale was not fiction. It was a fable.
In my youth I harbored a mild disdain for baseball because of the bitterness I felt from being the only boy not to be picked for my second grade intra-classroom baseball game. That incident was what spurred me into picking up basketball in earnest.
As I grew older that mild disdain faded, helped along by the interest that my grandparents showed in the Mets. 1986 all but killed my foolish bitterness when the Mets won the World Series. Lolo and Lola's enthusiasm was more than infectuous -- I became a staunch supporter of the Mets that year because of them, even braving the ire of my father and kuya who are Yankee fans. Not that I remember my dad or Kuya being Yankee fans in the 80's when the Yankees stunk -- but bandwagon jumping discussions are for another day.
Twenty years later, with Lolo and Lola already on to the next life, I continue to marvel at the impressive knowledge of the game that my grandparents displayed. I had always assumed that they both picked up the game when they came to America in the late 70's. But it turns out that baseball and my mom's parents go farther back than I realized.
Lola played softball for her school team. Just the mere fact that she was a more accomplished athlete than I knew is impressive. Lola was a volleyball player, too, and an incredible swimmer. She also had the ability to put aside her grandmotherly ways and regularly whupped my butt in table tennis. But not only did she play for her school. Lola was also the catcher -- the one position in softball and baseball that requires the most skill and intelligence.
Lolo was a baseball umpire and this is where the story gets funny. Mama Alma told me recently that she and her siblings went to watch a game in which Lolo was the home plate umpire. At one point a batter was struck out and Lolo called him out with an animated, "Yer out!", accompanied by enthusiastic hand gestures that is commonplace in American baseball games. Not knowing this, Mama Alma was embarassed. She thought her father was being "ma arte." It wasn't until years and years later, when they all had moved to America, that she realized what Lolo did was normal.
I wish I had known sooner that Lolo and Lola had more than a passing interest in baseball. It would have been really cool to see Lolo sitting straight-backed, arms folded in the bleachers, a slight smile on his face as I got up to bat; and later to hear Lola give me tips on opposing pitchers as she fed me a merienda of home made pan de sal with cheese.
Basketball will always be my sport, first and foremost, but I would have tried baseball to connect me to my family's history.