My career as a Memoir Writer may be over.
It was great while it lasted, wasn’t it?
You enjoyed it, right?
Yeah, me too.
Until I returned home yesterday afternoon to a note from our Hero, the blogger’s said husband.
“Baby blue suit??? You’re killing me with these blogs! There WAS no baby blue suit! Can’t you remember? It was a dark blue suit! And what do you mean by putting that dorky photo in the blog? You can’t put THAT photo in the blog–it’s just ridiculous.” (OK, reader, the note may not have said that. But that’s my memory of our dreaded confrontation.)
Some of you may be frowning and saying, “WHAT baby blue suit is she talkin’ about now? I don’t remember reading about a baby blue suit in yesterday’s blog. What photo?”
That’s because your blogger–after a few choice words with the hero of our story–agreed that, yes, maybe, perhaps, you never know, you’re probably right, you never owned a baby blue suit. And, OK, I should have asked you if that particular photo was acceptable.
She then did whatever any respectable blogger might do. She corrected her error. She deleted reference to baby blue suit in the job interview. She deleted the offending photo. Of course, by then, a commenter (quietsolopursuits) had already asked if the baby blue suit might be polyester?
Blogger wrote back by private email: “I’ve already deleted your comment.” And explained why.
In which Commenter responded, “That’s OK, I just wish I could deny the baby blue polyester leisure suit I owned in the 70’s, but some ratfinks took pictures of me wearing it.”
Kiwidutch then arrives to comment about the deleted photo of the three Musketeers sitting on the wagon in front of the old farmhouse. (She did not call them dorky.)
She can’t believe our jackets are hanging open when there is snow on the ground.
I have to email kiwi and tell her the photo has been deleted. (At least, that’s what I think I emailed her. My goodness, do we have to be ACCURATE in the blogging world? Because, gosh darn it, Kathy is going to fail this truth quiz. Not because she doesn’t want to be truthful. Because she can’t REMEMBER!)
Along comes Commenter Brenda. Brenda doesn’t know what the other commenters are talking about. Blue leisure suit? Photo of three friends sitting on a wagon? She feels confused and left out.
Kathy, on the other hand, is still “doing some ‘splainin’ to her husband.”
“I swear you had a blue suit,” Kathy insists. “I can see you wearing it. It’s light blue. I swear it!”
“You are mistaken!” replies said husband. “I have never owned a polyester blue suit in my life. That was your BROTHER. Remember the photo of him in one that you looked at last week? I wore CARHARTTs. I wore flannel shirts. I would never ever wear a light blue polyester suit. Ever.”
(Your blogger is starting to feel slightly ill now. Her career as a famous Memoir Blogger is obviously over, before it barely began. She’s failed. Her memory has failed. She can not remember something as simple as what her Significant Other wore to his Most Important Job Interview 32 years earlier. )
The hero and heroine of the story share a few tense moments until their life-long pattern of communication and reconciliation takes effect.
The blogher agrees to let the bloghim read future Memoir Episodes before publication. She can write to her heart’s delight, sharing What Happened! And he can edit to his mind’s knowing, about what REALLY happened.
She’ll be happy at allowing creativity to write the story. He’ll be happy that Actual Facts are appearing.
They shook hands. They agreed on a Memoir Partnership. Especially since it’s about both of them.
There was no light blue suit that the hero wore to the Job Interview. Memory can be a faulty instrument. (You just try to write YOUR memoir, and give it to someone who existed at the same time. Just try it!)
Certain photos may not be appropriate, unless prior approval is granted. (Gosh, why does one person like a certain photo and the other despises it?)
The column about my Thanksgiving Mistake which appeared in the L’Anse Sentinel this week by said Blogger’s husband –putting Too Much Thyme in the stuffing last Thursday–was approved in advance, even though your blogger may get flack from her book club members when they arrive at our house on Friday night.
I shall run future installments of the Memoirs by him before pressing the “Publish” button.
That’s why we’re still married after 33 years, readers.
Communication and negotiation.
“How many more installments of the memoirs do you have?” asks our hero.
“Umm…one about our half-coyote dog and one about Texas and maybe one about the kids?” our heroine responds tentatively, never knowing which direction Creativity might beckon. (And, no, John, we won’t be writing our Memoirs until Valentine’s Day! What are you thinking?)
Peace descends upon the Drue household. Blogging marriage counseling is not necessary. He did not own a light blue polyester suit. He really didn’t. I am still trying to convince my errant memory: “No, no, memory. You are WRONG. You’ve made this up…again. How am I to trust you? Don’t you know he’s a Carhartt kind of guy? Don’t you know? How COULD you have made this up?”
We’ll get to Chapter 3 in the next memoir blog. If I can just remember what I want to talk about…