Fallow

Part I: I Am Boring

My creativity is in its fallow phase. I haven’t been to this blog for almost two weeks. Nothing has struck me as funny except for one remark my mother-in-law made at Thanksgiving.

She hasn’t been well, so we all pitched in and she got to rest. She was watching Gary and his sister hash out How Things Should Be Done. (“THIS is how we’ll do it.” “NO! THIS is the only way.” “I DON’T WANT TO ARGUE ABOUT IT WE ARE DOING IT THIS WAY.”)

She said, “This is the first year I’ve been able to sit back and watch from a distance.” She paused. “It’s pretty funny watching them argue.”

I remember a time I found humor in watching Gary argue. Lately, not so much.

Part II: I Am Way Behind On My Star Wars

I saw Star Wars in the theater on my very first date with anyone.

I saw Empire Strikes Back in the theater, almost certainly with Joey. (It came out in June 1980, and we didn’t break up until September, so it must have been with Joey.)

I saw Return of the Jedi in the theater with Gary, thus ending the cycle of dating during the age of Star Wars.

And then, the three prequels … never saw them. Not a one. They’ve been on TV: I’ve flipped past them. Gary’s seen them.

I want to watch them before I see the next one, and it looks like I’ll have plenty of time. The theater where I want to see it is booked up until February.

Part III: Other People Are Creative

As you know, my prom date Virgil became an established artist. I imagine that either:

A) being my date for prom gave him the confidence to pursue his dreams, or

B) had I put out at prom he would not have suffered enough to become an artist.

Either way, I am taking credit for his creativity since I have none of my own.

About that prom. I wasn’t supposed to go to prom with Virgil, but my boyfriend Joey got grounded, and Virgil swooped in.

As it turns out, had I gone with Joey I could still claim fifteen minutes worth of prom date fame, because Joey is the parent half of the parent-son team who made this viral Facebook post:

Joey is going by his first name, Phil, now. (Hmph. My dad was a Danny till the day he died.)

I thought it was cute when I saw it on Joey’s (“Phil’s”) Facebook page. I also thought it was remarkable Joey’s carpet is that clean given that he has a terrier. Then I saw it on a friend’s page, then another’s, and then everywhere.

Here they are talking about the experience in the Huffington Post and the Daily Mail.

WERE IT NOT FOR ME, WORLD, going to see Empire Strikes Back with Joey/”Phil,” you may never have had the Stormtrooper Christmas Tree. Taking full credit for this one. That’s what we Creativity Leeches do.