I thought it appropriate to start this series off with the piece that inspired the original title of this blog of mine which was–"Conversation Lost" and had it’s birth on the original "Blogger" a little over two years ago. I thought it only fitting then that this piece starts of the journey back to my first days of my writing experience. I was much younger and life was good to be sure but in a much different way than it is now.

Anyway, for what it’s worth…

This is dedicated to Liz Strauss and her Successful Blog and all her SOB’s who are celebrating two years tomorrow the 24th of October.  

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Conversation Lost

Four score and several years ago there were likely a whole lot more people who actually knew what a score was and how to properly apply the word into a conversation. Also, there were most likely a hell of a lot more people who knew exactly what a conversation was and moreover, how to properly apply one between two or more people for a reasonable period of time, say more than 43.067 seconds and carry on said conversation without managing to insult anyone by being politically, socially, or sexually incorrect.

Back then, the art of conversation was a way to spread the latest news, gossip, weather reports and who was actually blind enough to marry farmer Johnson’s rather "robust and full figured" daughter in the first place? This also brought the people in the local area closer together; gathering in cozy, comfortable places such as a front porch, kitchen or backyard where the world’s problems would be solved and Jed’s old, beat up guitar re-strung (again).

One of the reasons that real conversation may be lacking today may be due to the fact that nobody seems to be building front porches anymore. And modern kitchens complete with their computerized electric stoves, frost free, ice making refrigerators, and color coordinated, veneered cabinets and wallpaper, just don’t seem to have the same old rustic charm as a kitchen complete with a wood burning cook stove, a wash basin and outdoor plumbing. Also, nobody back then really had to worry about their neighbor spraining his ankle when he tripped over the hole the dog dug in the backyard and suing the holy crap out of them.

Life was less complicated back then and more importantly, people tended to keep out of other peoples business which is a quality that is sadly lacking today. Just think of it. A man could actually take his son out back to the woodshed for using his little sister’s face to scrub rocks with in the river and not have his nosy neighbor call the Department of Youth Services (or whatever) on him mainly because there was a tremendous lack of reliable phone service and the aforementioned agency obviously didn’t exist in those days. Any welfare aid available back then was called a church fund and as far as who precisely was to receive the money was decided on by the local front porch committee during the weekly Saturday night get together and bean supper jamboree. For instance, funds were once raised and given to a young farmer so he might have the local doctor scrape his daughter’s face off the rocks in the river and reattach it to the front of her head. ($4.00, an extra helping of beans and his daughter’s face is doing just fine, thank you.).

You might say that the art of conversation in that bygone era was the talk of the town.

(um…sorry about that.)

Unfortunately, conversation today seems to be limited mostly to "howyadoin?"," whazup?" and "howzitgoin?" along with the various ingenious replies such as "okay", "nahmuch", and "whythehelldonyoumindyerowndambizness!".

People of the present appear to feel much too pressured to stop and pass the time of day for fear the time of day might pass them by entirely and go off in search of a cozier, comfortable place like a front porch, kitchen, or backyard where someone, along with someone else, might actually be sitting down to enjoy each other’s company over a nice hot cup of coffee.

It could be theorized that if two people, who were only slightly acquainted, were put into a situation where they would be required to participate in a meaningful conversation, they would most likely do their utmost best to examine the cracks in the walls, the finish on the table and how it badly needs to be redone and muck about finding fascinating new ways to twiddle their fingers. At the same time the speech centers in their conversationally deprived brains lurch blindly about, searching for the connection to anything resembling vocal cords and a mouth. If they both don’t expire from terminal embarrassment, they might find out that getting to know someone new is really quite pleasant and maybe they should do it more often.

By the same token the ratio of successful marriages vs. unsuccessful marriages along with the various maladjusted offspring begotten by these failed alliances might actually begin to improve if a couple, in a moment of daring insight, decided to chuck that #$!%!#* television set out the bloody window and actually have the entire family sit down at the supper table at the same time. Talking would also be very nice but let’s not push it.

Believe or not, couples in this fast paced, two career per household and we still can’t pay the damn bills society might even find that sitting down and talking about the day’s events and how they happen to feel about said events could amazingly lead them to remembering why they married their partner in the first place which could also lead to a whole lot of badly needed snuggling under the covers which, temporarily at least, turns life back into the simple, uncomplicated thing it ought to be. This would be good, yes?

With these thoughts firmly in mind and the fact that people today are so terribly alone in a world full of potential good company… .

I believe I’ll build a porch.

Long ago, back in another portion of my life that was much different from the life I have now, I was at the tail end of my first divorce, free and busting full of new ideas. I had a house all to myself, my first home PC (a 386SX, Windows 3.1, 20mb hard drive, 4mb’s of memory and very early version of MS works) and a great desire to write. And so I did.

Time went on and my life continued through another marriage and yet another divorce, life teaching me all the hard lessons I needed to learn, the learning hard at times and still I was writing. Then, shortly before I moved to Vermont…I stopped. My life in the fast lane had come to an end, my folks were getting on in age and needed looking after and life was busy pushing me in that direction even though I didn’t know it at the time.

For over a half a decade I was without a PC and when I did finally have access to one the desire had fled. Responsibilities were heavy and my days were filled with exhaustion and heart ache and there was little spare time to be had as it often is in these cases, but the one thing I had kept from that previous portion of my life was a battered old manila folder with the only existing copies of those stories.

Fast forward to just a bit ago, third time’s a charm they say and in this case, they were right. The folk’s had passed on, I began to take care of my health again and within a very few years I had moved to Newport, VT with my wonderful lady and that battered old folder came with me–and she found it.

She read those stories of mine, read them again and did something that was completely unexpected; she typed all 15 of them into her computer and when she was done, she gave me the copy so I would have them once again in mine after all those years.

My father had been of the opinion that these short stories/articles should have been published long ago but of course that never happened. Who had the time? And although I haven’t written any more of these “stories”, my desire to write eventually surfaced once again and with the coming of DSL to the more remote places of Vermont, this reawakened desire to write has taken the form of this blog instead.

But it’s time I believe for these past writings of mine to see the light of day and I can’t think of a better place for them than as a new series on Just Thinkin. Give them to my readers to peruse through and enjoy or not as they may.

Now, when I say “stories” I use the term very loosely indeed. Some actually could be termed stories while others might be called articles while still others might be classified as opinions. One thing is consistent though, many of these old writings of mine are satirical in nature, poking fun not at religion or God or stereotyping anyone, not at all. I’m poking fun at people in general for if you can’t laugh at yourself then you’re certainly not living life to the fullest.

I’ll be converting these writings to posts one by one and some are actually long enough to publish in separate installments so I’ll have fun with “part 1′s” and “part 2′s” and the like. They’re not great, hardly professional, full of too long sentences and bad grammar so they won’t win any prizes but I hope they at least provide some enjoyment.

I’m working on the first one now.