Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Ho Ho Ho! Well hello, little boy. What can Santa Claus do for you this Christmas?
I’m not so sure that you have what I need in that bag of yours, sir.
Now, now, son. You’d be surprised by what Saint Nick has in his sack. Have you been good this year?
Good is a bit of a sliding scale, don’t you think? Do you mean Mother Teresa good, or Mae West good?
An excellent point, young man. How about I just check my list. Let’s see. Naughty or nice... naughty or nice... Ah, here you are. Oh. Ummm. Will you promise to be just a little bit nicer next year?
Yes sir. Absolutely. Done. You have my word.
Well, okay. We'll let you go with nice, this time. What is it that you’d like Santa to bring?
Santa, what I really want is my writing Mojo back.
Your writing Mojo? Mojo’s a very big item, you know. How about a nice camera instead?
Sorry, sir, but I just bought one.
A shiny new fly rod then?
Got a closet full, but thanks for the thought.
Let’s see. How about World Peace?
Asked for that last year. Remember?
Yeah. Sorry about that, kid. Father Christmas had a tough year.
Tell me about it.
So. You want your writing Mojo, you say?
Yes, sir. It’s all gone to shit lately. (Oops. Sorry, sir.) I haven’t been proud of anything I’ve written for months and I’m disappointed that so little has found its way to the page. My blog has been terribly neglected and I’m really struggling to keep it interesting. I need my Mojo.
I hate to tell you this, son, but Mojo doesn't work that way. It’s not a thing someone can give you. It’s something that you already have and simply needs to be tapped into. That’s easy to say, I’m afraid, but not always easy to do. It’s a lot like flying reindeer. Most of the time they just hang around the barn, eating hay and playing games. But every now and then, when the moment’s right, for no discernable reason, inspiration strikes and they float into the rafters. That’s Mojo. It’s a gift, there’s no doubt, but not a gift that can be easily given. I’m sorry.
I understand. I knew it was a tall order. I just hoped, you know, for my readers…
I know. I wish it were possible. How about something else? Anything. Just name it.
Well, how about a leadership that will acknowledge that man-made climate change is real and start to do something about it, that can quantify the value of our public lands and wilderness areas in something other than dollars and cents, and whose members will start to think like individuals rather than mindless party shills. One that will do something for the people of this nation, all of them, and not just for its anthropomorphized corporations. A leadership that actually works.
So, young man, do you want to write poetry or prose?