Refer to Blog

“I want my sentences to smell of the leather of my traveled shoes.”

Allison Hoover Bartlett

This post replaces my anticipated epithet and has nothing whatsoever to do with the above sentence.  I just really enjoyed that sentence and so I put it here that I might easily find it again to enjoy.

Replacing the typical, Here Lies Zobostic Corwin, Born 19_ _ Died 20_ _, Instead, I want carved upon my headstone:  refer to Blog.

In the description of Tom Wingfield, of The Glass Menagerie, Tennessee Williams identifies him as, “A poet with a job in a warehouse.”

There is an obvious frustration implied that sums up the character.  It is through that characterization that I view my own existence.

It has been my lifelong desire to enjoy the relationship of a pen pal.  I have, however, surrounded myself with birds of different feathers.   In spite of various shenanigans, I have always been unsuccessful in motivating people to write back.  Friends, relatives, and strangers simply do not write.

With the introduction of email, I would have thought the bonus of no postage, no envelopes and no waiting  - a flood of letters would rush in.  This was not the case. 

Having created this blog that has traveled to 80 countries and has received over 37,000 views over 8 years, I received one email.  One in 37,000 is not something I will be putting on a plaque for my wall.

In summation, I believe there to be a curse upon my socks.  Rational examination has shown me that the only time I did receive a letter was the one time I was barefoot.  It makes sense.  Had I, at an early age,  opted to avoid socks, my wish for a pen pal would have been granted, and these sentences would smell of the leather of my traveled shoes.

Z. Corwin