DEAR SIR OR MADAM

I’ve never made a big effort to share my writing with the world. In general, I have not stretched beyond the dear horizon of some indulgent friends.

This blog is really no different. The audience is made up of friends, and the occasional misdirected soul in search of further info on body modification and/or deli meats.

I have always made the fairly safe assumption that there is not a defined audience for anything I’m comfortable doing.

I’m not making a show of being self-critical here. Nor am I applying for status as a misunderstood genius. It just is what it is.

For example, very little in the history to date of this blog has given me more pleasure than working through the first 10 chapters of Halo, and very little likewise tested the gentle reader’s patience to a comparable degree. And I get that.

Gladiola Dialog represents one of my only dalliances with the larger world. Some years ago, the John Lennon Songwriting Contest (which carries Yoko’s imprimatur) included a lyric-writing category.

So, I had the title “Gladiola Dialog”— I liked the way the words looked next to each other, more than anything else— and I decided that a well-selected and well-arranged listing of different types of gladiolas was the best lyrical fit for that title.

I thought this was in good creative communication with Yoko’s roots in the Fluxus movement, and with how that influence cross-pollinated with John’s pop sensibilities.

I wrote a $40 check for the entrance fee, and sent Gladiola Dialog on its way.

When the winners were announced months later, I saw that the grand prize went to a lyric that was a sturdy and able paean to the blues.

I did not expect to win.

But to this day, I don’t know exactly what I did expect…