ValueSpeak
A Weekly Column
By Joseph Walker
If my calculations are correct
(and that isn’t necessarily a given – just ask the
OK, there were all of those
other columns I wrote during six years as a TV critic for a daily
newspaper. But come on – I was writing
about TV. That doesn’t really count,
does it?
I started writing this weekly
column in 1990. I wish I could tell you
that I keep doing this week after week because I feel like I’m really making a
difference in the world, or there are people out there who need my weekly
words. But that would be pretentious . .
. if not an outright lie. Because when
it comes right down to it, I do this for me.
It is almost completely selfish.
I write because I need to write.
This is how I cope. This is how I
wrestle with the daily dilemmas of life.
It isn’t just what I do – it’s who I am.
Back in 1982, before I had this
weekly forum, my Mom died. It wasn’t
unexpected – she suffered with a lung disease, and we knew the end was
coming. When my big brother Bud called
me in the middle of the night to let me know that she had passed, I took the
news stoically. And Bud was concerned
about that. I was, after all, Mom’s baby
– the youngest of her eight children.
She and I had a special relationship.
I was a Mama’s boy. And I was, no
doubt, her favorite.
Pay no attention to what my
sister Kathy says on the matter. I
was. End of discussion.
Bud understood that. Which is why he was
troubled by my calmness at the news.
“Are you OK?” he asked after a
moment of silence.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine.
Really.”
And then I hung up the phone
and went into my little Selectric typewriter and
started to write. I didn’t have an
audience in mind. I wasn’t writing for
publication. I was just writing because
. . . well . . . I write. I sat down,
closed my eyes and let my feelings and emotions flow out of my fingers. By the time I was done I was ready to face
the world Mom-less.
Or at least,
as ready as I was going to be.
By way of contrast,
So much
death. So much
confusion. So much fear.
So of course, I wrote. Only this time I had someone – or many someones – to whom I could write. This column became my outlet, as I let flow
all that I was feeling in a world suddenly, frighteningly, horrifically turned
upside down.
That is what the column has
been for me – all 1,001 of them. Not all
of them have been good, of course. Some
of them have been frankly awful. Others
have been painfully self-indulgent (like this one, I’m afraid). But they have all reflected what I was
thinking and feeling and experiencing at the time. You have been my outlet, my therapist, my own
personal crisis hot line. Which means I probably owe you some kind of counseling fee.
Good luck collecting on that.
I hope there has been some
benefit for you in all this – maybe a word or two of comfort, or a little cheer
when you needed it. Perhaps by sharing
my experiences and thoughts I have triggered some pleasant memories and
thoughts of your own. That would at
least be some compensation for what you have given me.
At the very least I owe you my
thanks. Thanks for being there. Thanks for listening. Thanks for writing back occasionally – even
those of you who scold me when I’m out of line (which is all too often, I’m
afraid). Thanks for overlooking the weak
columns and embracing the good ones. But
more than anything else, thanks for reading. It’s what binds us one to another, and makes
this weekly adventure into one man’s sometimes muddled mind a shared
experience.
One I hope to share with you at least 1,001 more times.
# # #
— © Joseph Walker
E-mail Joseph
For more ValueSpeak, please visit http://www.sfpnn.com/joseph_walker1.htm
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