Blue Star

What I Did for Love
Scott Sullivan
It’s too late for me. But there’s still time to pass on that idealism to my daughter Flannery, 15. How ya doing? I asked her when I came home from work. “Fine.” “Whatcha doing? “Not much.” How was school? “OK.” Want to know what I did? “No.” Too bad. I encountered for the millionth time the reality of existence and forged in the smithy of my soul the uncreated consciousness of my race.” “Why not just use the laptop.”

There is living and then there’s life. For me, existence gets pretty humdrum.

“What did you do today?” my wife asks.

Went to the office. Covered a press conference. Shot the ballgame and took the trash out ...

What happened to young ambition? When I’d change the world? Make a difference?

“Welcome, O life!” I would say each day. “I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.”

For full story, pick up a copy of the Nov. 12 Commercial Record or subscribe to the e-edition.

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