Thank you, God, for those days of 'a little crazy'

I’ve heard writers described many times as intellectuals; other times, some just think we’re crazy, alcoholics, odd – oh, I’ll leave it up to you. Just think of all the adjectives one might call anyone else. We’re probably normal but sometimes just gutsy with our words. As I write that, I think of a fellow news editor who frequently asked, “Did I say that out loud?”

After a year and a half of experiences one has to laugh about in order to keep from crying, I had a turn-about day Friday. I was coming out of my drugstore one step at a time, and a friend I hadn’t seen in over a year was waiting for me, having come from another nearby store.

“Say, do you still want that chicken?” he asked.

I was at a loss for words. How many people would even have an answer to the question, “Do you still want that chicken?

My reply was, “Yes, but my car’s too small. I’ll have to find someone with a truck to help me.”

I have been known to buy wine at Burton’s Liquor Store, and on two occasions told the woman in charge I loved their chicken. She said she’d try to find me one. I didn’t take her seriously. I’ve never had anyone before promise me a chicken.

I confess here, as much fun as it is to say “chicken,” I had fallen in love with Burton’s metal rooster.

I don’t think five minutes passed before a friend Facebooked and said my “chicken” had a ride home the next day. She, Tracy, and her husband, John, met me at Burton’s, and I led them through the side streets safely to a condo, my “cabin by the park.” I am so appreciative.

One friend Facebooked that I would not be able to walk by the gift without smiling. Yes, and one will ever walk into my living room again without gasping some form of, “OMG!”

What I see when I look at the rooster is not just a kookie, new roommate but a lifetime of good things. Just passed the rooster’s head in the photo is an award I won a couple years ago from AIT, a theater group I was in not so long ago and loved. Next to that is a black and gold vase given to me by my grown son when he was about eight. He told me in advance he was giving me something so beautiful, when I saw it, I would be so excited. I remember that every time I see it. To make the experience even better, I remember the heart of a loving little boy and my second son.

Also in the photo, although not in its entirety, is a painting done in pastels by a well-known prison artist, Robert Raymond. The subject is my first grandchild when he was five years old. He’d told me he needed a new “Age Five” cowboy hat. His dad was my older son.

As for my daughter, she was the first to get back to me when she saw the photo on Facebook to say, “I love it!” Not everyone will get that, but there is something special knowing it’s possible to pass on a bit of craziness for posterity. I think at least one frog shows up in the photo. She and her three daughters have given me a total of four frogs.

A friend gave me a fake dog years ago, and I purchased the bear cub footstool myself. Viola! I have now described my “secret writing place” to you. It’s not a secret anymore. I have a brown leather love seat just out of sight behind the Rooster where I am surrounded by peaceful animals and memories.

The last year and a half have been challenging. I fractured my spine, began taking shots for osteoporosis, discovered arthritis owns more of my body than I do, and other things I won’t bore you with. As you can tell, despite all that little stuff, I have friends and family, am writing my fifth book, at least in this stage of life, which is Book III of THE JOE MACGREGOR SERIES on Amazon; also “out there” I have on Amazon SHOOG, SHOOG II, A SUIT FOR MELVIN, AND A HORSE FOR JOE. Coming soon is THE SEARCH FOR MELVIN. There’s adventure, action, and tears, but for every tear, there is a laugh. Imagine that!

I have also met many friends in the publishing and writing world and am feeling well enough to soon get out there and meet more of you. I’ve learned that a wheelchair ride at the airport can be a lot of fun, especially if you happen to draw the escort I did in Atlanta on my way to Minneapolis. He ran to make sure I didn’t miss my flight, and there was at least one time we were heading toward two folks who didn’t see us coming. I was cracking up. I thought it would make a great movie scene although I was thinking to myself we were soon going experience a “hair, teeth and eyebrows” minute. He swished right around them without their even realizing.

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Thank God, and friends for a great year despite roadblocks.

Jo E. Jennings (Jo-Ann E. Jennings) MDIV, BA

[email protected]

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