I might have decided to use my platform here for more days this month than the last two. Primarily because I need the exercise.
Do you know what a CP is? Hey, don’t get a smart mouth with me.
No problem, we’ll get back to that.
This is strange. Since my ill-fated experiences as a Girl Scout, that being asked to turn in my jumper for behavior unbecoming a … “girl?”
Who remembers. Joining stuff has always given me a rash. Marching band practice in parochial school. Now that’s a snappy group for a hyper-active, attention deficit, pigeon toed kid.
I ran around the block, leapfrogged over fire hydrants, ran in traffic, roller skated down Dead Man’s Hill in Sunset Park. I flew on solid steel along asphalt from Sixth Avenue to Second Avenue three times in one day without hitting a traffic light or being flattened by a bus, truck or trolley.
Being overly competitive, I tried like crazy to beat the best hand-ball players in Sunset Park. My lefty-Louie advantage had them on the ropes for a while.
Next there were half a dozen choirs in the half-dozen schools I attended through high school, auditions at Carnegie Hall for All-City Choir during which I broke out in hives, three auditions and two talent contests my brother thought would help my socialization.
I threw up, got stomach cramps and froze in the middle of the stage. At a new school, in an auditorium filled with over three hundred, pimple-faced high school freshman girls I entered another talent contest, getting a lousy second to a girl who did gymnastics to music.
I tried dance contests and art contests, I wrote melodramatic stories which made my Ninth Grade English teacher cringe …
Then it stopped … life interrupted.
Here I am at a very delicate time of life and here we go again.
Fine. If you must know.
A CP is a critique partner.
And for this one must possess the delicate balance of poise, diplomacy and understanding, and the serious application of one’s deep knowledge of the craft of the written word.
Watch it, smart mouth!
It’s no wonder I am so tired. Look at how much I’ve done.
Tomorrow is another day
fOIS In The City