When Nature Calls, I Raise.

English: Playing cards.

Hit me! No, that’s not right. What are we playing again? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m not much for gambling. In fact, I’m a terrible gambler. The only time I went to a casino was in Atlantic City six years ago and lost $100. My companions said it would be an excellent experience. Right. That money was sorely missed, as it could have gone to more hoagies at Wawa. It’s not a sophisticated meal, but I liked them. Stop laughing.

When I started this post, I thought the title was amusing. It still is, but doesn’t tie in well with the rest of the entry. Blow it. I’m keeping my title. So there.

I get ideas for stories at inconvenient times: upon waking up, eating a meal, but more often than not in the car. There was a case of waking up last Thursday, where I desperately tried to type out an idea on my computer while battling my recovering motor skills. I could feel the memory slip away with each stroke of the key. This was all very reminiscent of Guy Pearce’s character in Memento, where he’s desperately trying to write himself a note about a conversation with Carrie-Anne Moss. The dream got a little mangled in the transition.

As mentioned before, driving’s the most common time for my ideas. The fields of Ohio are perfect for long drives at night, which are a frequent hobby of mine. There’s an appreciation for the quiet and I’ve gotten used to the thick blanket of cover across the sky. It’s often cooler outside, and the air is quite enjoyable brushing up against my face. The lack of other motorists is also an undeniable perk.

A driver’s mental workload is reduced over time, when the route from point A to point B becomes a routine. This allows me to concoct wild thoughts, and that probably makes all you more nervous. It’s OK. I’m an excellent driver. Yeah, definitely a good driver. Definitely. Yeah.

The latest nugget of joy came at a different time of day, but was the same in principle. Without giving the meat of the story away, it started with the anxiety of crossing the Canadian-American border on my next trip. I’ll be visiting Niagara Falls for the first time in my life, and decided to party with the Canucks. During my commute, my mind began working off of this anxiety to create a rather interesting scenario. The thought struck me at my core, and that is important to me.

As luck would have it, I was able to get to my laptop and spill the beans on a Word document before the gossamer floated away via distractions. Writing for me is like making gold leaf. It starts with a lump of gold, or an idea I think very valuable, then I hammer it out into pages. After a while, it starts to look like a story.

Does anyone else run into this? Has anyone thought of a subject that strikes them so hard in the gut they simply must write it?

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6 thoughts on “When Nature Calls, I Raise.

  1. I remember the thing of night driving….for me a thing of the past, but excellent memories.

  2. I didn’t laugh.

    I hope you have fun at Niagara. There are some excellent wineries outside of Niagara on the Lake.

    And, yes. I usually get my best ideas while walking, though. I still haven’t come up with a foolproof method to record them before I get home.

  3. kerbey says:

    I’m not entirely dim, but I’ve never heard of Wawa, and never having gone up north, I don’t even know if you need a passport to get into Canada. I know that down here, we have people crossing the border every second without papers, so I don’t know the Yankee rules. Wouldn’t you be more inclined to “lower” when nature calls? I really am confused. I awaken often in the night w/ brilliant ideas that I’m certain I will in no way forget in two hours, sometimes even giving myself a code word to remember, and then at dawn, all is lost. And the only thing I’m going to have to write about is how awful awful wretched miscarriage is, because nobody really tells you the horrid details, but no one wants to hear that on a happy blog.

    • In short, Wawa is a gas station with a deli on the side (http://www.wawa.com/WawaWeb/). It’s regional; I wouldn’t expect many to have ever experienced one. There is a concentration of stations in the mid-Atlantic, and they are convenient when traveling.

      The passport requirement enacted in 2009 is more for people _returning_ to the United States. Our country seems more comfortable with letting people loose than letting them in.

      Always stand your ground when nature calls, kerbey. Always. ಠ_ಠ

      If miscarriages were explained to me in graphic detail, then only concern I would have would be the emotional stability of the speaker. When someone breaks down, that’s when it gets uncomfortable for me. I’m not good at comforting people.

      My family had lunch together at a restaurant this afternoon. We separate bills anymore, but as an epilogue of a previous post, my father got all hot and bothered again. I believe he succeeded in stiffing the waitstaff this time. I know I tipped on my bill, but it seemed like they set exact change down across the table.

      • kerbey says:

        That drives me crazy! It’s not like tipping is a new idea. It’s convention, it’s the RULE. You don’t get to opt out. Even if it’s bad, you tip SOME. We tip at Sonic. I tipped at the movies today, and all the did was bring us iced tea. And I tipped $1.20 on that, and we make poverty wages. I’m going to grab your dad and shake him. I am. And we get sub-par service a lot.

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