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Glamour shots? Maybe no, maybe yes …

As she hauled out her trash can this morning as I dumped out several bags of weekly debris on the driveway for the obligatory photo ops, my neighbor discreetly asked “What are you doing?” (I’m sure she’d been building toward this; more than once she’d driven by and meekly waved as I performed this chore.)

IMG_1938IMG_1939There was no dodging this bullet. I told her I was sick and tired of trash along my walk and this was my way of doing something about it. She got my :30 elevator speech about Trust me, you don’t want to hear it in person.

My oration fizzled to a merciful (for her) halt and she nodded her head in affirmation (while she no doubt secretly told herself “Yeah, this guy is nuts.”). She then spun around and was on her way.

There’s no way of knowing if she’ll ever visit this blog. In truth, these are hardly glamour shots to most people who might just as easily turn away in disgust. But I see a weird sort of beauty in the sordid pics; it means no one else will have to see this junk strewn about their streets and sidewalks. That paints a pretty picture to me.

About Dave Bradley (264 Articles)
I was a writer by trade so one would think letters would come easily for me. It is so now, but wasn't always that way. Indeed, the first letter was written the Monday after Ellen started her freshman year in college. For years I've wondered - with no good answers - why I swiveled my office chair toward my computer screen to fire up a word processing document for that first letter. I just don't know. I just did. Perhaps it was the angst of separation or wanting to say things that had gone unsaid at that moment when we parted ways in front of her college dormitory. What was a one-off became habitual. When her brother Reid enrolled in the same college, his name was added to the salutation line. They were kids then and are adults now. No matter. The letter writing habit remains so today. I live in Brevard, North Carolina. I'm well away from where they live and don't see them nearly as often as I'd like. That's why letters, at least to me, fill the void of distance. The pages give me something to say and the space to say it. There is no assurance they read the letters; indeed, I have never asked if they do so. With the pace of their busy lives who could blame them for letting a letter sit unopened? Over time, it has dawned on me that the letters are both communicative - and cathartic. By nature, letters are about the writer; the writer can only write about their situation. Perhaps that is as it should be. It's all about the here and now from one person's perspective.

1 Comment on Glamour shots? Maybe no, maybe yes …

  1. John Cleghorn // November 5, 2014 at 3:30 pm // Reply

    Keep up this powerful witness!

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