For almost a half century, I've been writing. Not always for newspapers, but writing, and in all that time I've secretly ridiculed people who say they have writer's block.
Just sit down and put your hands on the keyboard and move your fingers. That's what I said to myself. It's simple. Just write what's in your mind.
Now I know what writer's block means. I do. I know. It means there's nothing in your mind to write, Nothing. It's blank. Empty.
Ouch. That can't be a good thing.
Maybe I've been playing too much Scrabble and have used up all the words allotted to me for March. It would almost be fun to go back and find all the words I've used to see if together they might make something sensible.
Since that's highly unlikely, I had to look elsewhere for inspiration. Found it in a computer file called "Fun Stuff" tucked away in a bigger file of "Possibilities." It's funny, maybe because it's so simple, or maybe it's because the thinking is actually deep.
Who thinks up stuff like this, that's what I want to know. And were they just putzing around trying to get over writer's block. Oh, the questions, the questions.
But thank heavens for email because that's where these came from. Don't remember who sent them to me, but I like them. Just sit back, relax, and bask in the simple beauty of words put in the perfect order. I just wish I'd put them there.
I planted some bird seed. A bird came up. Now I don't know what to feed it.
I had amnesia once - or twice.
I went to San Francisco. I found someone's heart. Now what?
Protons have mass? I didn't even know they were Catholic.
All I ask is a chance to prove that money can't make me happy.
If the world were a logical place, men would be the ones who ride horses sidesaddle.
What is a "free" gift? Aren't all gifts free?
They told me I was gullible, and I believed them.
Teach a child to be polite and courteous in the home and, when he grows up, he'll never be able to merge his car onto the freeway.
Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone.
One nice thing about egotists - they don't talk about other people.
My weight is perfect for my height - which varies.
I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.
How can there be self-help groups?
If swimming is so good for your figure, how do you explain whales?
Show me a man with both feet firmly on the ground, and I'll show you a man who can't get his pants off.
Is it me - or do buffalo wings taste like chicken?
There you are. Fun stuff.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.