Fishing For Whales


The other day, I was shopping for a few odds and ends and picked up something sweet for the hubs. He doesn’t care for chocolate*, so I opted for some throw-back Bazooka Joe Bubblegum complete with comic strips. Though, in all fairness, I didn’t know that’s what I bought, I just saw classic pink bubblegum and grabbed a pack.


When I was a kid (I’m sensing a theme lately…nostalgia is setting in hard these days), I never asked for Bazooka Bubblegum because I enjoyed blowing bubbles or chewing the stuff. I only asked for it because of the comics. And, oh, the disappointment that would set in when I’d unwrap a piece of gum and carefully unfold the comic from around it only to discover I’d already collected that particular strip. They should be more careful when packing these things. Give a variety. How hard could it be?


Now, the new comic strips are not quite like the old ones. Vintage comics offered telescopes or gold-plated pearl rings or two-bladed pocket knives (try giving away one of those in a kids’ consumable these days). And you had to snail-mail a few hundred comics or so many cents to an actual physical address. I never went through this process with Bazooka. I did mail off for some Cracker Jacks or cereal giveaways. And oh, the anticipation of receiving some fifty-cent item in the mail five (or twelve) weeks later was almost unbearable. It’s amazing how one can elevate the importance of something so trivial when one is an eight-year-old.

Now, in our sterile, digital universe, the freebie is available via an online code. Instant access. Which unlocks TV activities and games on their website. No anticipation. Nothing to hold in your hand. But then again, kids these days don’t know what they’re missing.


I’ll stick with the hold-it-in-your-hand mini comics for now. If they ever bring back that gold-plated pearl ring, I’m all in.

Thanks, Bazooka, for bringing back the memories, though.


Back to the comic:


Poor Pesty. Having fun, dreaming, wishing, and drowning some worms. Maybe thinking about being a pirate. Then along comes someone “supportive” to point out the error of his way.


I laughed way to hard at this 28-word story. I even taped it to my office wall.


Why?

It sums up this author/writer business. Brand new, I am. Newbie extreme here in 2019 and not afraid to admit that I know less about what I’m doing than an auditorium full of freshly graduated high school kids.


I’m fishing off the side of a bank. I have no idea what’s in the pond. Or if there’s anything in the pond. I might be in the wrong pond altogether and the body of water I need is fifty miles away, south by southwest, surrounded by rabid alligators. I don’t know.

I’m just having fun. Dreaming, wishing, drowning some words.


Some have said, “You’ll never get published” or “The market is flooded” or “Writing fiction is a fool’s errand.” “Some” defined as those contributing to the general popular opinion out there on the great wide web. “Some” is occasionally defined by the ones a little less “digital” who have this opinion but are afraid to tell me to my face. That’s okay. I’m sure they’re being supportive, like Bazooka Joe. They surely mean well…


All of them surely know what swims in all ponds everywhere because “They” have so much collective experience. Sometimes, I wish the “Somes” and the “Theys” would pack up their fun-smothering opinions and go jump in a pond. Then they would know what’s in said pond. First hand, even.


Since I have no idea what I’m doing, I may as well be like Pesty and fish for whales. I don’t have anything to lose.

You may as well be like Pesty, too, in whatever endeavor you should want to try.


Dream a little.

Wish a little.


Have fun a lot.


And drown a few worms, words or, as the fortune suggests, try your hand at being a pirate. You don’t have anything to lose.



*How does one simply not care for chocolate? I care deeply for chocolate. I especially care about Lindor Truffles and Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Sea Salt Caramel Squares. I also care that one takes care to place anything Reese’s Cup in the freezer for a spell before consuming.


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