The BOSS OF ME blog

I am not intimidated or discouraged by difficulty, danger or disappointment.

I am UNDAUNTED.

In Bukowski’s poem: “So you want to be a Writer?” he mostly says, “Don’t do it” – ten times as a matter of fact. For good measure, Bukowski also throws in a “forget about it” and a “do something else.” Inspiring stuff.

He continues:

“don’t be like so many writers,

don’t be like so many thousands of

people who call themselves writers,

don’t be dull and boring and

pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-

love.

the libraries of the world have

yawned themselves to

sleep

over your kind.

Don’t add to that.

Don’t do it.”

I expect the number of selfies on my iPhone likely precludes me from pleading the fifth on being “consumed by self-love” and my friends and family are so tired of hearing me talk about work, that they have literally put warnings on social event tickets if there’s even the remotest chance I might attend the event. However, I’m beginning to suspect that I may actually be a ‘Tool of the Trade,’ I have nothing better to do, and I found the poem oddly inspiring.

And so, I continue on my writing journey.

Like breathing, telling everyone the minute details of all aspects of my workday is not only natural, I find it completely necessary for my continued existence. But without a job, I lack subject matter and a captive audience. Writing about being the boss of me will have to suffice. I am also confident and determined.

Confidence and determination – where does that get you?

It got my dad locked in the trunk of a car in an isolated parking lot at Canadian Tire and me turned into a pretzel after an unsuccessful pommel horse flip attempt in grade 8. Not just a cool Tragically Hip song, Locked In The Trunk Of A Car actually happens to people and so does being allowed to attempt a pommel horse flip despite never having attended a day of gymnastics class – even as a spectator. Let’s assume my Dad and I are reasonably intelligent and somewhat logical. That leaves confidence and a heavy dose of determination as the likely culprits of our predicaments. My Dad got locked in the trunk of his car because he was determined to change a broken shock, he was confident in his ability to do so, and he gave little thought to anything else (including reading the warning label on the replacement shock that explicitly states: ‘DO NOT LIE DOWN IN TRUNK OF CAR WHILE REPLACING SHOCK.’) Me? I turned myself into a pretzel attempting to flip over a pommel horse because I was determined to do it and, despite never having done anything like it before, I was confident I would be successful. Thankfully, my Dad had the forethought to secure himself in the trunk of his 1980 Pontiac Parisienne (otherwise known as an ’80s land yacht) with his tools and a lighter. And finally, after a significant amount of panic-induced latch-fiddling, he popped the trunk. Appearing like a scantly clad woman escaping from a giant birthday cake before the big reveal, my Dad peered out from the bowels of the Pontiac’s ginormous trunk. And as gracefully as can be expected of a man with permed hair, an ’80s moustache and wearing glasses designed for an eighty-five-year-old woman, he dropped with an audible ‘thud’ onto the pavement of the Canadian Tire parking lot, got behind the wheel of his land yacht, and drove home. As for me on that fateful day in grade 8, I not only exhibited the intelligence of a sack of hammers – I dropped like them too. Also with permed hair, unfashionable glasses all askew, and sprawled out all over the gym mat behind the pommel horse, I recall frantically thinking “Did anyone notice?” Unsurprisingly, a mild concussion and my gym teacher’s exaggerated rendition of the ‘slow clap’ were my rewards for the pommel horse attempt of ’87.

I’m certain if I thought about it hard enough, I could come up with more inspiring scenarios to get my point across, however, the events described above were the only ones that came to mind. I mean there have to be several people who’ve locked themselves in the trunk of their cars – The Hip wrote a whole song about it! So, I carry on.

What are you carrying on about?

It could be genetic, or merely a side effect of the eighties perm solution used on my father and me, but I am undaunted by past failures and carry on against all odds. With a passion for learning new things (on purpose and unintentionally) and an unparalleled insistence on telling everyone all about it, I carry on. I am determined to write and be the boss of me and I own several pairs of glasses.So what do you do when all signs point to no?

I keep going. So does my Dad. And despite surviving countless situations that mostly produced unintended and often disastrous results, we still don’t read instructions, because that would be boring. And we’re definitely not that.

Yesterday’s deep thoughts:

Me: “I want to karate chop that snowman in the head and put it out of its misery.”

Me: “What is wrong with you?”

Me: “Don’t answer that.”

THE END

Sources

• Charles Bukowski, “So you want to be a writer?” Allpoetry, http://allpoetry.com/So-You-Want-To-Be-A-Writer