I’ve been brooding over how solitary my journey as a writer has been — and wondering if, among time-consuming activities, I might should have picked something more social to pursue in my later years.
Quite some time ago, I received an invitation to play bass in a praise band. The commitment required learning six songs a week. It’s a job. I retired from a job. I hadn’t planned to get another one.
Civic theater comes to mind, but it’s the same proposition, and the gentleman who volunteers at the museum is clearly bored out of his mind.
Dance classes. I like dancing. I used to disco like crazy, but I’d need to lose thirty-five pounds before signing up. What else is there; pickleball? Either way, let’s factor in the time it takes to recover from knee surgery.Continue reading “The Lonely Scribe”