What I hope for Tripio

       It is just past seven a.m. eastern time. I intended for this next blog to be follow up to the previous post, “Writer’s block?”. I wanted to backtrack and retrace my path to Tripio by emphasizing that I could not have produced Tripio without giving up booze. I will follow up, I promise. But today I can only state that there is nothing better than waking up on a Monday morning with a clear head!  

    The first thing I did this morning, using my clear head, was to check my phone. There was a message that had arrived at 12:51a.m. There was a photo attached. To get to the photo I had to think, enter my code and click. Way too much to do without caffeine. Luckily, the phone was on the way to the coffee makers.  Yes, plural. I have a traditional drip maker and an espresso machine. I made it back to my phone, crema topped double espresso in hand, and was able to access the photo.

                                       

   That is me as a Barnes and Noble manager. That would be at the time of the epilogue in Tripio. It was sent to me by my second oldest son, who also appears in the epilogue of Tripio, as himself. It is a good photo of me for a change. It ignited many strands of thought in my wonderfully clear and appreciative mind. I just wasn’t sure which strand of thought would take hold long enough to sit down and write about it. So, I did the dishes. to buy some time.

    As I did the dishes I found today’s topic: My hope for readers of Tripio.

    I hope that somewhere in Tripio that the reader can find a small piece of what I felt when I saw that old photo of me first thing this morning. Because the story of Tripio is truly the story of my life from my mid-20s on. I looked at the photo and saw so, so much. There was birth and death. I want the reader to take that from Tripio. There was jobs and family and money and sex. I want the reader to take that from Tripio. There is fear of what might happen and decisions about life that will affect you forever. It sounds selfish to start those sentences with “I want” but I have been asked that a lot: What do I want from Tripio? But what my answers mean is that I hope that what a little of what I left can be picked up, out of Tripio, and put into your own life. And when you are done reading  Tripio, I hope you can say something like, “You know, things didn’t work out like I planned. But I do have a really good life.”

                                        “May I help who’s next?”

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