Project : NaPodPoMo NaNoWriMo 5 Nov 2020

WRITING AND PODCASTING A NOVEL 5 NOV 2020

Todays Topic

Welcome friend to Create Art Podcast where we create more than we consume. I am Timothy Kimo Brien your thankful head instigator with over 20 years in arts and education helping you tame your inner critic and provide you with commentary, interviews, discussions, and projects that will inspire you to create art. This month I will be podcasting daily and writing a novel in 30 days. I am participating in NaPodPoMo and NaNoWriMo. You will be able to listen to what I wrote for the day and read it at the same time. I like to practice what I preach when it comes to art so I am challenging myself to write and having you come along for the ride. I hope this inspires you to accomplish your goals with your art and if you would like to share what you are doing email me at timothy@createartpodcast.com

The Story So Far

5 Nov 2020 1673 daily count 8534 cumulative count

“Hmmm, well my ex-wife and I had a great time, and I had a great time when I went by myself the year before. Where did you end up staying,” Carl replied?

“Oh, some flea bag hotel in Paris somewhere. They were very snotty towards us, we had to wait forever for our meals the first day or two and then I let the manager have it. After that our food came out quick, but it was always cold,” said the older man.

“Hmm, well the custom there is that dinner lasts a long time so you can enjoy your food and the company you are with. We stayed in Montparnese, just a few blocks from the graveyard and the Metro and Montparnesse Tower. I remember when I landed both times it was market day and the next day it was art day on the street just down from our hotel. I went on a tour group of people your age or older and we all had a grand time. Out tour guide was an expat and knew all the places I wanted to visit and gave me a bunch more that I had not heard of. Just a magical time indeed. I’ve considered retiring there when the time comes,” said Carl.

“Well I am sure you experienced the rude people there, they were all over the place. Do not see how anyone could be an expat and love living over there. They hate us you know, “the old man said.

“Nope, can’t say I experienced that, the people I met were very friendly and were forgiving of my attempts at French. In fact, we had a bunch try their English on us and it was fun to help them out and they had a great time helping us out. Lots of laughter is what I remember. I just treated it like I was going over to someone’s house and played by their rules. It really worked out for us and we took thousands of pictures and made some excellent memories. Tell me you at least went to the I Love You wall with your wife,” asked Carl?

“The I Love You wall, what the heck is that” asked the old man?

“Oh wow, okay, here is the info on the tour company we used. I think you got ripped off, you need to give It another shot. Here is a picture of my ex-wife and I at the I Love You Wall,” Carl opened up the photo app on his phone and showed the older man. “So, its this wall in Mon Marte I believe the neighborhood was called, anyhow, it’s a wall with I Love You written on it in all of these languages from tourists that have visited. Very romantic and magical place, the whole city is like that really you should give these guys a call and book a trip as soon as you can,” Carl gushed.

“Yeah, its probably out of my price range though and I don’t want to give them frogs anymore of my money,” the old man said.

“Divorce is more expensive,” Carl muttered.

“What’s that,” the old man asked?

“Oh, well I was just saying divorce is more expensive, I’ve been divorced for a few years now. That was expensive, Paris, well that is a bargain for the memories I have,” Carl said wistfully.

“Carl, we are ready for you,” said the phlebotomist over the din of the patients.

“Coming, “replied Carl. “Talk with these folks, give it another shot. We only live once and the memories will last the rest of your life. Trust me you never know how short life can be.”

Carl put his phone and book away and carefully made it through the crowd. He headed to the back room and was led to a chair. Instinctively he rolled up both sleeves and set his bag on the floo next to him.

“Okay name and birthday please,” asked the nurse?

“Carl Bayer, 6, 10, 78. I am a Gemini and like long walks on the beach,” joked Carl.

“I didn’t know Gemini’s liked long walks on the beach. I’m a Leo so I like being in control. Which arm will we be using today,” asked the nurse?

“You are the one with the sharp pointy objects, I’ll let you decide. Besides, you are a Leo so you will probably tell me which one anyway. No seriously though, the left arm is usually the best one,” answered Carl.

“Sounds good to me. Looks like you have had a bunch of sticks so I’ll use that one. How are you feeling today,” asked the nurse?

“Decided to take the day off and come see you,” joked Carl.

“Aren’t you the charmer, I’ll make sure to use the no pain needle on you. Looks like we will be taking five vials. Make sure you take it easy after this today, get some water and if you feel woozy let your doctor know okay? All right here we go, just a quick pinch,” said the nurse as she stuck Carl and the blood started to fill the first vial.

“I’m not really afraid of the needles, I have a bunch of tattoos. I just don’t like looking,” said Carl.

“I don’t like looking either, did I hit your arm or mine,” joked the nurse?

Carl went into his calm place as the vials slowly filled with his blood. If he had known, he was going to do bloodwork today he would have drunk much more water versus the coffee that he had earlier that day. A few years ago, when this testing and diagnosis happened, he talked with another nurse who was drawing his blood and she told him how to make it less painful. She also told him to find his calm place, if he was calm, the phlebotomist would be much calmer and get the job done quicker.

“Okay, I left some in there for you, how are you holding up Carl,” asked the nurse?

“Fell about three pounds lighter, thanks for draining my oil,” replied Carl.

“Okay, make sure you keep his bandage on, get some water, in fact, grab some on your way out. Your blood was flowing a bit slow, so I want to make sure you are hydrated,” said the nurse.

“I’ll order a bottle of water at the coffee shop instead of a red eye, I promise,” said Carl.

As Carl left, he noticed the older man who talked with him. He caught the eye of the man and said “Viva La France, see you there.”

Carl smiled as he heard the old man sputter a response back at him. He didn’t hear the full response, nor did he care. He made it to his car and pulled out his phone and set up the podcast he was listening to on the way over. It was about improvement one that didn’t try to sell the listeners anything. Definitely one of his favorites especially on Fridays there they read and commented on listener letters. The hosts didn’t belittle the people asking for advice; however, he could hear the smirks in their voices sometimes and he would smirk right along with them. With the car warmed up he headed back to the coffee shop. As he drove, he felt a little woozy, must have been from the blood draw. The traffic was light as it wasn’t quite eleven thirty. The lunch rush wasn’t due to hit for another half hour and the coffee shop would be slammed for about an hour after that then cleared out. He debated going back and having Cheryl see him with the bandage on, she had always tried to mother him he felt. It was good to have someone care, but the last person who cared was now his ex-wife.

Before he knew it, he mindlessly had driven to the coffee shop because he missed the turn to go back home. He could just go in for a little bit and come back or he could brave the soon coming crowd and then help Cheryl with her dialogue for her class. The decision seemed to take longer than it should have. As he stayed in his car debating, he saw almost no one in the coffee shop at that time, just a few college kids with their laptops or noses in a book and a man with a child. Finally, he decided to go home, grab a bite to eat, probably take a nap and then come back at 2 PM when there were less people. By that time, he reasoned that he could remove the bandage and feel a bit better. It was only a few minute drive and traffic was still fairly light. He pulled away from the shop and headed home.

Once he got back to his apartment complex, he noticed someone had parked in his spot. The car looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. Instead of calling the front office and complaining he pulled into the visitors spots. It was empty there, but it did require him to walk farther than if he had his spot in from of his entrance. It was a minor annoyance, and he would be leaving in a few hours anyway. His ex-wife would have been on the phone and giving the make and license plate number to the secretary. This was not the quality that bothered him, rather, she would justify it by using his diagnosis as an excuse to get preferred treatment. She would claim that it could tire him out or if he tripped on the curb because of an episode that he might have at just that moment, then someone would be sued, and he would be dead. She often exaggerated the effects of his tumor and treated him like he would be dying in just a few minutes. He didn’t want the reminders that he might have an episode at any moment, although he knew that was possible.

Reach Out

To reach out to me, email timothy@createartpodcast.com I would love to hear about your journey and what you are working on. If you would like to be on the show or have me discuss a topic that is giving you trouble write in and lets start that conversation.