Barbara J. Hamby

sign-up for our email list

Chuckle, Cough, Sneeze, Wheeze, Laugh

I finished a Robert Fulghum book today. After that, I found his website and read his journal entries (tantamount to a blog). He helped make what could have been a dismal morning of coughing, sneezing, wheezing, and aching a fun time. I laughed a lot.

As a writer, I feel some kinship with him. But he is multi-talented (writing, music, painting, and preaching/philosophizing). I envy him the joy of those talents, but not the pressure to practice them that I suppose exists. He is obviously more intelligent and imaginative than I. He writes best sellers. I write poems, memoirs and a blog.

As a member of the rare breed of fallen-away Unitarians, I can only imagine how much his former flocks miss him in the pulpit.

As a late-blooming writer, I notice for the first time in my life, a slight wish to be a male. Male writers, generally speaking, have more support from their spouses than females. There are exceptions, however. When I was single I watched with envy, as Jean Auel’s husband waited on her at a book signing.

It seems fairly certain that males are in less danger when they make outrageous statements to total strangers. Probably they can sit in a bar or coffee shop and people-watch without being hit on often. Although, I must admit, I haven’t had that problem recently.

I look forward to future fun hours reading all types of literature, with humor in the forefront. Perhaps I’ll learn to be more funny, if such can be learned.