Write Gate

By Al Horn

I have uncovered a conspiracy. It is one of pandemic proportions. At first I thought it was confined to a small circle of people. Yesterday, I discovered it was much bigger than I could possibly have imagined.

It started off innocently enough. I woke up on Monday morning with all these ideas brewing in my head. I felt I had enough material to write two or three articles and would be well ahead of my own self-imposed deadlines. I was becoming intoxicated by my desire to write. At 5:55am I stealthily descended our stairs to turn my computer on just to find our visiting daughter was awake and using it.

Her reasons were simple and easy to understand. She was checking to see if her friend had gotten the message to pick her up at the airport in Phoenix later in the day. She had gotten other messages that had her excited and she wanted to talk about them. Being this was her last day at our house I sat and listened to what she had to say. Any ideas that had been simmering in my brain gradually turned cold. I wasn't worried; there was always tomorrow morning.

It was not to be. Later that afternoon I was about to sit down to write again when the phone rang; it was my wife at the airport. Seemed that there had been a snafu in the flight schedule and the flight was supposed to be next week. Considering our daughter had a Wednesday morning interview, that wouldn't work out. The best alternative would be for me to get up early Tuesday to take her.

I agreed, knowing that I would have to write at the end of the call because the next morning was now closed off. No sooner than I had booted up my computer, the inspector for the city shows up for our newly installed hot tub. Surprisingly, he was full of questions. He even took the time to call and verify some of the rules with a fellow inspector. Just as he was leaving one of the construction machines banged rather loudly. That woke the two year-old up. No writing today.

On Wednesday morning I did something I rarely do. I actually slept in. Upon awaking, the barmaid and the grandchildren begged me to get into the hot tub I had worked so hard the day before to fill and get the chemicals at their proper balance. My stiff back told me it would be the logical thing to do. Afterwards, I spent the rest of the day working at the church. Most of my Monday morning ideas had turned rather wispy by this point in time. I wasn't worried. Current events could always be counted on to provide fodder for my keyboard.

Thursday morning I was up at the crack of dawn. I went around the house making sure that the wife and kids were well covered and that all were sound asleep. I tiptoed down stairs and fired up my computer. Nothing would stop me now. I scanned Yahoo and MSN. I checked the local paper's online site. Apparently, Wednesday had not been all that newsworthy. Nothing I read seemed to click. I wasn't angered by anybody's particular actions. I found nothing humorous to jump on. I was beginning to get desperate.

I had to leave Friday to a work camp for the church and there was nothing to write about. Time was running out. I felt that it was now or never. Just as I checked a small headline for the County Journal that seemed to have promise, the boy comes down stairs and into the office. He had a big smile and a big diaper full of the previous nights liquids. I had been stopped cold. That was when it dawned on me. Somebody was trying to keep me away from my trusty prose.

Well, here I am. Three o'clock in the morning. Getting the last laugh. This may not be earth shattering or mind-boggling but it's something. I had always been told that perseverance would prevail.

Darn, I have to wrap this up quick. The power just went out and my battery back up is only good for

Note from the Barmaid: The Barkeep is gone to camp. I am posting this so that he will not feel that the whole world is against him.

Note from the Barmaid: There is no circle of conspirators. We actually form a square and had been doing a rather good job of boxing him in until now. Better luck next week!