Funny how much of my life seems to converge on 1975 or thereabouts. I was a big fan of Procol Harum during High School and College, favoring their more esoteric and sometimes bizarre pieces over the popular (like “Whiter Shade of Pale”).

‘Typewriter Torment’
Procol Harum, 1975

Typewriter torment, dreadful disease
Caught it the first day I touched the keys
You wear down your fingers and churn out your pap
It eats up your life like a dose of the clap
Typewriter torment it tortures me still
If only my doctor could see that I’m ill

Typewriter fever gives birth to a flood
It sweeps through your body and curdles your blood
You curse and discurse but you’re damned for all time
The moment your fingers give birth to a rhyme

Typewriter fever it harries me still
If only my doctor would give me a pill
Typewriter fever I’m worn to a stub

I’ve dumped my Thesaurus and pulled out the plug
I’m rending my ribbon and bending my spool
Don’t bother rewinding: I’m done with it all
But why can’t my doctor just say that I’m ill?

Typewriter fever is paying his bill
Typewriter fever it harries me still
If only my doctor would give me a pill

The reality is that I really don’t have “Writer’s block” at all. Rather, just not finding the time to sit by myself and… write. Once I start, I can bang out a piece in no time, sometimes decent stuff, sometimes drivel. But putting words to paper has never been a problem for me. I often wish I had a way to jot quick notes while riding, because there are so many interesting things that come up, even during the most mundane, ordinary rides. Always something worth writing about, if only I’d remember. And, seriously, none of the things that get in the way of that happening, life as it were, are more important than those things I notice on the fly.

It would be a nice feature for my Garmin computer if I could tap part of the screen and it would create a 20 second recording. In the old days, with small digital cameras (before phones took over picture-taking duties), it was easy to take it out and get off a quick shot and afterward, the photo would jog my memory.

You’d think it would be easy, seeing or thinking of something during the ride, and recalling it later. Frequently Kevin and I will see something along the way and I’ll suggest that it’s inspiration to give the ride a certain name. And darn, no matter how amazing that idea seemed at the time, it’s lost before I can put it to paper (geez, I’m really stuck in the past aren’t I? What do people say today, younger people who never dealt with a real typewriter and paper was the beginning, middle and end?).