Sometime pre-2000 I was waiting for an interviewee on the Gig Harbor waterfront and instead of writing down quotes and my job I killed time by writing a few lines.
I’ve thought about what I wrote without remembering really what I wrote. Except it was about the passage of time and whenever I moved and tried to pare down my possessions and piles of paper I kept all my reporter’s notebooks so I wouldn’t lose it.
It must have been summer or early autumn in the Gig. On December 3, 2016 I found those lines. In a box full of some water-damaged magazines papers and materials from Gig Harbor days and Safford / Eastern Arizona days.
In Tempe, AZ.
I glanced over it but will type it up ASAP for this blog. I also found some random other writings. So goldmine for the passage of time.
(I celebrated with this brew which I have pegged as inspiration for writing about my three sons)