Rita's Reflections: Waiting to release the writer within
Flipping through my old scrapbook, I had forgotten about the journalism award Mrs. Enos presented to me my senior year. I may not remember that accolade. But I remember turning 50 shades of pink when Mrs. Enos thought I penned the steamy lyrics of “Night Moves” by Bob Seger; thinking I was speaking from experience. At the time, I had only book smarts on that subject. You can ask Larry.
My friends were excited and ready to start new lives after graduation. Most of them skated by on Daddy’s dime. Going to college seemed out of reach to me, and I had no clue what I wanted to do. At the time, I had never heard of a student loan. And I don’t remember anyone ever talking to me about the possibility of a scholarship.
I love reading, writing and avoiding arithmetic. My interest lies in creative writing with a healthy dose of common sense and truth. According to Ray Bradbury, “You must stay drunk while writing, so reality cannot destroy you.” Wait, I read that wrong. “You must stay drunk on writing, so reality cannot destroy you.” Yeah, that makes more sense.
In Ms. Ross’s English class, we had to do an impromptu speech. I got a few laughs talking about flying for the first time in 1974. Mom and I were traveling to Oregon to visit my Grandma Hutchinson. A national airline strike was underway. While at the airport, I blinked and looked up to see Mom talking with a reporter “live” on the Detroit news. Oh, Lord. I prayed in the shadows that Mom would not embarrass me. She didn’t. And I had enough inspiration for my first and last impromptu speech. Mom speaking up about our inconvenience, landed us in first class! I got my first taste of smoked salmon! Mm. And wine! Yuck! Turn it back into water, Jesus. I don’t like tiny bubbles. I like what Willie Nelson likes – God’s green grass.
One Christmas, I was so excited when I unwrapped a box with a picture of a typewriter on the front. Instead of a typewriter, inside there was a new winter coat. I was thankful for the warm coat. I just kept wondering, who the heck got my typewriter.
When those electric typewriters came out, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on one. I waited a long time. Larry and I were married before I did. Then I didn’t have time to use it.
We bought a computer in the ’80s that looks very similar to the one on the sitcom “Young Sheldon.” Home computers were a novelty back then, not a necessity. It sat useless in a box for too long because no one knew how to hook it up. There were no geek squads on speed dial back then. It was difficult looking at that box knowing a useless word processor sat right under my nose.
In the mid ’80s, I took a couple of classes at MCCC. My English class with Professor Grant Strickland was fun and engaging. At the time, Larry worked swinging 8-hour shifts with one weekend off a month. If I was in class when Larry was home, I missed out on precious family time. The timing was wrong.
Three years ago, I learned about expressive writing from Reader’s Digest. Expressive writing helps one gain perspective and clarity. It's cheaper than therapy. Life is tough. That’s why I prefer laughing over crying. Did you know a hearty laugh burns 3 calories! You can literally lose pesky pounds laughing.
This one goes out to the men who appreciate candor and honesty from a woman’s perspective. And to all the like-minded, kindred soul sisters willing to speak out before we are all silenced even more than we are. In our house, silence is only golden at bedtime.
Rita Wyatt Zorn is a wife, mother, grandmother and lifetime Monroe County resident. She can be reached at 7.noniez@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on The Daily Telegram: Rita Wyatt Zorn: Waiting to release the writer within
