Saturday, December 15, 2012
echo, echo, echo, echo
Echo, echo, echo, echo ....
Funny how some initial course of action -- good, bad, or indifferent -- continues to reverberate and resound, different and yet the same. Open your mouth or lift a finger and it's echo, echo, echo, echo.
Earlier in the week, I wrote a short article about retirement and submitted it to the local paper for consideration. Yesterday, I got a note from the editor saying that the article would run on Monday. I mentioned this to my son together with the small whine that I wished I could figure out a way to get paid for it. Bragging rights were OK and with or without remuneration, I would probably still write, but still ... a little money would be nice as the choke-hold of Christmas and monthly bills make themselves felt.
"You've already done that," my son observed reasonably, "... gotten paid to write articles." In retirement, which is where I am, you don't make money any longer. You spend it ... which, on a fixed income, requires a new and constricted point of view.
Earlier in the week, I wrote a short article ... which will be published in the future ... echo, echo, echo, echo.
Once upon a time, I got paid as a newspaper reporter to write articles and now I am not ... echo, echo, echo, echo.
Kinda makes you wonder whose voice sounded the first note of which this moment is the echo, echo, echo, echo ... and what echo will echo on account of this echo.
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Echo as in the sound a voice makes when it looks into my bank account and says hello . Its a sad thing really ,I actually gave my last 45 cents to mydaughter for her coffee fund Otherwise would have already taken the echo out of your donation7 box7.Poverty7 is goin to be with me for awhile .Christmas and children have my every last dime ear marked for the next 2 paychecks .So I guess im just mooching around here reading for free If I were able to fill the box with heart felt care Then it would be full But it is worth about as much online as it is anywhere else .Anita
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