Ouch

I cringed when I read my column in the paper today. I had a grammatical error. I knew better. I must have read that column a dozen times. I listened to it, and Jilda skimmed it, but when I read it today, it jumped off the page and stung me like a red wasp.

I overheard a young writer a few weeks ago talking to someone about their manuscript. He said, "I don't need an editor, I know how to write." I almost snorted when I heard him say this. My first instinct was to tell him to stop smoking crack, but I let it slide. I thought to myself, he'll learn soon enough how goofy that statement was.

Perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe he is one of those rare individuals who is a master of the language and writes flawless prose, but I'd bet my truck that his first manuscript will contain errors.

On another subject, today was Decoration at the cemetery where my people are buried. I volunteer for cleanup duties, and I always work the donation tent on the morning shift. We try to collect enough money this weekend to pay for keeping the grass cut during the summer, but we usually fall short.

Today a family walked up the hill. They donated a significant amount of money and I stood talking with them for a while. I knew right away they didn't live in Alabama, but I learned the parents were born here but moved up north to Illinois in the 40s to find work. 

I mentioned that I maintained the http://www.daviscemetery.com website and asked if they had pictures of their loved ones buried at the cemetery that they'd like posted.
As we talked, one of the daughters said, "Hey, are you the guy that writes for the paper?" Apparently she reads my columns online from Illinois. 

This writing thing is interesting. When I started writing my column, I thought a few people in my community would read my work. As it turns out, the audience is much wider than I ever imagined.

I hope you all have a blessed week. Let's all do something remarkable.