September 13: Entered Timidly, Hung His Head, Poetry Reading

Scrooge entered timidly, and hung his head before this Spirit.  He was not the dogged Scrooge he had been; and though the Spirit's eyes were clear and kind, he did not like to meet them.

Scrooge is mighty humbled by the time he encounters the Ghost of Christmas Present, as evidenced by his entrance into the Ghost's presence.  The magic of Christmas is already working on Scrooge's person.  He is on his way to redemption.

There are many occasions where I enter a room timidly, head hung.  When I go to church, I try to adopt this attitude.  When I am in a social situation with a group of strangers, I tend to be a little shy, if you can believe that.  When I meet someone I admire (a writer or celebrity of some kind), I will be very respectful.

Tonight, I'm going to a poetry reading by poet Traci Brimhall sponsored by the university.  I don't know Traci Brimhall.  I didn't even know her name until last week, when I received the e-mail announcement about her reading.  Since then, I've read some of her poems and a list of accomplishments.  I've prepared myself for what I'm going to encounter tonight.

Traci Brimhall is not a person I would be timid with.  She has had some very great success with her first collection of poems, which won a prestigious prize.  She publishes all over the place and is what I would call an up-and-comer.  That means she is the current flavor of the week in the poetry world.  She's doing well for herself.

Most people who have read my blog for any length of time know that I tend to be a little envious of people who attain as much success as Brimhall has.  I can be quite rude about it at times, making snarky and cutting comments about people who have won anything from a local short story contest to the Nobel Prize in Literature.  Yes, my jealousy knows no bounds.  It's not a character trait I'm proud of.  In fact, I think it is one of the most unattractive parts of my personality.  However, I'm able to mask it with wit and charm.  Usually.

Traci Brimhall has nothing to fear from me.  I will not sit in the back of the audience, heckling her.  That's not my style.  I think she is a fine poet whose work is quite remarkable.  That doesn't mean I won't go home at the end of the evening and make fun of her in private.  Not because she deserves my ridicule.  Because I am jealous of her.  Plain and simple.  As I said, it's not an attractive aspect of my personality.

The one good thing that usually comes out of my attendance of a poetry reading is that I go home and say to myself, "I can write better than that."  And I write.  Whether I admit it or not, Traci Brimhall will inspire me to write some poems.  I know that.

If you're going to the Traci Brimhall reading tonight in Marquette, Michigan, look for Saint Marty.  He'll be the one sitting by the refreshments, sneaking brownies and muttering to himself.

I'm sure this picture is airbrushed