1985, Creative writing 101
By Bob Green
I was thirty-two at the time and gettingre-trained in a community college. The far left leaning liberal professorassigned us our project.
"I want you to write about the most importantmoment in your life."
I had no choice. There was no question in my mindabout what my subject would have to be, but how would I write about such anincident to a person like this?
I mean, this guy was still stuck somewhereback in the Woodstock era. At any rate, the following article was turnedin, got an A+, and rattled the professor's reality a bit.
1985, Creative writing 101.
One night in June, back in 1972, I had just finished smoking a joint. Mymind was filled with dark shadows and black thoughts. I turned on somemusic; it was Joni Mitchell. Her melancholy jazz, bittersweet, strikes achord inside that somehow soothes the stinging fire of mental anguish andpain.
All of a sudden a voice jerks me out of my thoughts
"Hey Bob, wanna trip on down to the Sugar Shack with me? There's no coverand I know the band. The drummer's a good friend. Aay, dude, you O.K.?"said Don.
"Yeah, I'm cool. Sure, let's go. Maybe I can boogie my blues away."
Don's cool, a real hippie's hippy. He's got long brown hair, mustache,tortoise shell glasses and a complexion similar to a peyote button. He'sdeep, but he's kind of empty, just like me.
As we stepped out into that muggy June night, we melted into the madness -the sounds of parties and music, babies crying, distant sirens, and carsswooshing by. Good old Chittenden Ave. As we entered the Sugar Shack Inoticed the crowd kind of throbbing with beat of the music. I got into itand boogied until the band had a break. Don led me through the crowd tomeet his friend, the drummer. We sat down at his table and he introduced usto his wife. As we rapped, I noticed a difference in these people.
They seemed to radiate a genuine warmth. They invited us up to their room afterthe set was over.
As we walked up the dimly lit, creaky stairs to the band's room, I feltexcited to spend more time with these interesting people. The next fewhours were as enjoyable to me as any evening spent with the elven folk ofRivendale could have been. The conversation was good-natured, their faceswere open and innocent, and the laughter was golden. That night I foundthat love and goodness was not dead. I had just been looking for it in thewrong places. These people shared with me the key to finding love and tohaving it be an integral part of my life. What is it you say? Are you sureyou're liberal enough to consider the possibilities of what I'm about totell you? Well, read on then.
God is love. God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so thatwhoever believes in Him (Jesus) might not perish but have everlasting life.Does this freak you out? It did me when they first told it to me.
It wouldhave been the last place I would have looked for love. Thoughts of loudmouthed preachers begging for money, glazed-eyed Jesus freaks "handingtickets out to God", and other negative images flooded my mind.
"What aboutall the things you have to give up?", I thought.
But then, what do youreally have to lose? That night I went home and asked Christ to come intomy life. He did and lives there to this day. So does love!
I praise God for His active love and His incredible patience. I am praying for His Will to be done in my life.