What I MEANT to say was . . .

I've been meaning to write something pithy and/or scathing about this strange prescription drug advertisement I found in Newsweek last month.

But, I 've probably waited so long to write, I can be neither pithy, nor particularly scathing about it now.

Rest assured that at the time, I was FULL of venomous bile regarding the idiocy of this ad and would have used no less than 1,800 words to tell you exactly how STUPID, how IDIOTIC, how UTTERLY MORONIC this ad actually is.

I would have done so in such a determined and forceful way that you would have no choice but to agree with me, shaking your head with increasing vigor with every advancing bilious word that traveled across the page.

You yourself would have been shaking with rage by the end of the post, wondering how YOU could get your hands on the stupid ad agency that came up with the idea and the mindless, bean-counting morons at Astra-Zeneca that greenlighted this waste of glossy magazine cellulose.

Indeed, it's a very good thing that I didn't jump at the chance to dress down those guys and/or gals; it's lucky that I was diverted by such minutiae as dishwashing, diaper changing, or whatever else might have prevented me from rushing to my computer that day and letting loose my barrage of hatred.

But now, all I can do is sit befuddled and slightly flummoxed at the ad.

Sigh . . . it was gonna be so good, so eye-opening.

But now, well, nothing.

That's a symptom of something that Lynda pointed out to me today--"You're too afraid to try," she said, with regard to my reaction to some radio commentator who has published a book.

"Why can't I write a book?" I wondered. "Everybody else is writing books about every little thing." But what could I write about? Nothing immediate sprung to mind. Lynda suggested I write about life in the corn fields or something like that, thinking that I could tie it into observations on life or something.

My immediate reaction was negative, and that was when she hit me with the "You're too afraid to try, so you'll never do it."

I still can't think of what to write about . . . nor have I held a life-long desire to become a writer. It just seems that lots of people are able to get books published and I wonder how they do it. They don't seem particularly famous nor are their subjects, well, remarkable.

Anyway, it just makes me wonder.