Why Man Writes
by Marvin Pinkis
With the
proliferation of writers conferences, seminars,
workshops, retreats and a liberal sprinkling of
critique groups, what are the origins of this
writing frenzy? Events in man's trek may identify
the well-springs responsible for the cascade of
writer-wanna-be's.
**************************************************
In medieval
times, an abbot sternly confronted a trembling
novice who had missed classes and vespers the
previous day. Quivering, the boy handed the abbot
a note.
In a childish
scrawl it read: "Plese exkuse Thomas for his
absens yester day from the monerstery. He had an
upset stumik. Mrs. Aquinas."
The abbot
stated, "Because your family contributes to
our charities, I will accept this, but yesterday
was opening day of the jousting season. Was that
a coincidence?"
The lad
fumbled for a reply and was dismissed by the
abbot, who noticed clinging to the boy's coarse
wool garment, were specks of sticky fluffy stuff,
attempts to produce what later would be called
"cotton candy".
**************************************************
Writing was a
boon for a man and a woman attending a cocktail
party in Rome that included the Emperor as a
surprise guest. These two, closely attended by
their spouses, had not been together all evening.
The man got the idea to slip her a "note."
He called over the young page Flavius and filched
a linen napkin. Dipping into a gravy bowl he
wrote:
"I'll
meet you later at the Four Centurions Motel after
your old man
leaves for the orgy.
Caesarkins
Postus Scriptus. Bring chips."
**************************************************
Mesopotamia.
"Dear,
take the donkey and get some things at 'Ben and
Jakes's'. We'll need millet and a chicken. Check
the fruit. If it looks good, get pomegranates and
dates. Also, an urn of goat's milk. Don't let
them cheat you on the weights. You know how they
are."
"I'm
supposed to remember all that?"
"I heard
Egyptians make 'lists.''"
"What the
hell's a 'list'?"
"Like a
collection of things so persons can remember what
to do."
"Could be
the start of a bad habit. In the meantime, what
do we do?"
"Well, I
have this stylus and a jar of sheep bladder
extract. I'll do a graphic representation of the
items on your arms. This symbol of a stalk of
grain would stand for the millet. This oval would
be an egg which reminds you of the chicken.
"
**************************************************
Visiting the
cave of her friend Ooga, Ja-Key sipped the herb
broth, over-spiced for her taste. Ooga's culinary
reputation was unchallenged. Nobody in the clan
could match her "Grub Surprise" or
"Sloth Provencale." And with eleven
children yet. The oldest was promoted to "Assistant
Chief Netter of Medium-Size Mammals", and a
daughter received the "Gatherer of the Month
Award." Still, many questioned why the
twelve-year-old girl was still without a mate and
why the next to the last boy preferred to stay in
the cave and play with bone designs rather than
enter into the sadistic, often harmful, play of
the other boys.
Ja-Key
marveled at Ooga's ability to preserve her good
looks, considering Ooga had just celebrated,
allegedly, her twenty-fifth season cycle. Ja-Key
had little to be smug about - - seven ungrateful
children, a mother-in-law who bossed their cave,
not owning a decent cooking pot, a philandering
mate who bedded with a harlot from across the
valley. And lately, Ja-Key had taken to increased
imbibing of Mandrakes-root wine.
"Ooga,"
Ja-Key began, "I need a favor. Things haven't
gone well with Myk-el and me."
"Yes, it's
the talk of the clan."
"I can't
go out like Jo-Beth and personally witness or
participate in just about every significant
discovery in man's evolution."
"It is
discouraging," Ooga replied. "What that
girl can do is something for the books, whatever
a book is."
Ja-Key said,
"I need a gimmick. To prepare him something
so wonderful, more unique than he could get from
another woman, so he would be grateful and true
blue."
"You mean-
"
"Right,
your secret recipe for 'Marinated Giant Slugs
Over Selected Truffles.' That's all he talks
about after the annual potluck dinner."
Ooga responded,
"That recipe was handed down to me years ago,
before we started sleeping indoors after we were
all getting such bad colds."
"You're
my only chance to keep us together. You're my
best friend."
Ooga thought, Is
that why you loaned Filis your best squirrel wrap
for the Cave Rat party after giving me a lot of
phony excuses when I asked to borrow it?
She repressed
her resentment and said, "All right, I'll do
it, Ja-Key, but you're so ditzy, you'll never
remember all the ingredients."
Ja-Key
answered, "Oh, I can easily memorize up to
three."
"This has
five."
"Rotten
luck. That's what happens when a primitive level
of existence has yet to develop and perfect a
method, other than by oral transmission, of
preserving information."
Ooga reflected
on her friend's sagacity and, not to be outdone,
wisely remarked, "That step of learning will
yet occur. In the meantime, you should know that
I'm leaving my mate, a clod who doesn't
appreciate me. All he does, after he comes home
from the hunt and eats, is to sit and watch the
wall paintings. Night after night. I wish we had
rented an undecorated cave. Besides, I don't
prefer representational art. Then he says I nag
him because we're one of the few families who don't
have a vacation cave in the South."
"So, what
will you do?"
"Ask
yourself the same question. I'm running off with
your Myk-el and a knapsack of slugs."
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