“Ray? Ray? Ray? Quit hiding from me. Where are you? It’s not like you. I’ll find you. Ah hah! The scent of a rich dark roast coffee, with a hint of a smokey, yet filled with the unmistakable trace of the world’s richest chocolate. There you are. What are you doing in your closet grasping hold of your coffee with both hands? What are you afraid of, Ray? Together, we can face your fears.”
“Please, Tay. Leave me alone. I don’t want to see anyone, especially you.”
“What’s wrong, Ray? You can call me Z uh.”
“Who? What happened to Tay?”
“It rhymed with Ray. My name’s spelled Z space uh. I need my own identity. Don’t take it personally, but look at you, you’re a wreck. You’re worse than a pileup on a San Antonio freeway where a taco food truck tipped over. Worse, a barbecue food truck back ended it. The people of this city will do anything for either delicacy.”
“You are driving me nuts. I’ve writer’s block. Nothing is coming to me. Nada. I’m looking into the black hole all writers fear and I see no way out.”
“I was afraid of this, Ray. I could see it coming.”
“Why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you give me a clue?”
“Come on, Ray. What’s the first rule of your species?”
“Don’t ask for advice.”
“And, the second rule of your species, almost tied for first place, Ray?”
“This is painful Z uh. It’s, it’s …”
“Spit it out, Ray.”
“Lord, it hurts. It’s when given advice, ignore it at all costs. Why was I hiding?”
“The Sox lost. You take losses hard, Ray.”
“You sure? I think it was something else.”
“It’s another thing about your species, Ray. The mind can only hold so many facts.
Ego, a sense of foolish pride, a spirit of independence all can get in the way of seeking advice or listening to it when offered. Seeking advice, listening, testing it to see if it makes sense helps us to navigate through life’s choppy waters.