I've wanted a blog for years, ever since I began reading the blogs of others, in fact.
It's harder than it looks - although I've kept a journal for almost thirty years, and am drawn to writing in it almost every day, the knowledge that this blog will be "public" carries some pressure, and invites the Censor and her friend Writers Block right on in.
(But what is public? If I write a blog and don't tell anyone about it, is it really public?)
Anyway. The promised beginning. I am a doctoral student in Geography, fulfilling a dream by going back to school after years in the city planning field. My years in city planning had a certain frenetic, high-pressure, high-profile aspect to them, and when things got really overwhelming, I'd think, well, wouldn't it be great to dump this rat-race and just simply sell Sno-Cones at the beach? It got to be part of the private lexicon that my husband and I share - a wry smile, a shrug, a word, "Sno-Cones?"
Think of it, though. You are out only in great weather (no point in selling Sno-Cones in the rain). You have a perpetual and glowing tan. You have a pickup truck, America's dream vehicle, to haul the Sno-Cone apparatus. The truck is probably blue. A bad day is when the ice isn't right, or the syrup spills. If it spills outside the truck, you can just drive on.
People smile when they see you, especially kids. You have customers who are regulars. You don't make much money, but it's enough to live on, and when things are tight, you can always sleep on the air-mattress in the back of the truck.
So, yeah, Sno-Cones. At the beach.
Posted by otto0114 at April 4, 2004 08:41 AM