*Warning: Today’s post has received a 5-star Maudlin rating.

The Clown’s Prayer Keeps Me On Track

There are many days I question if my mid-life career choice to become a writer was a good one. Hell, I question whether my beginning-life career choice to be an actor was a good one. My older sister is a retired physical therapist and my older brother is a mucky muck with Siemen’s. And then there’s me.

I write plays, screenplays and songs. Mostly everything I write is a comedy. At least I hope what I write is funny. Intentionally funny. Not the dreaded unintentionally funny, like Rock ‘n Roll Nightmare. But I often wonder if I’d be better off doing something else. I don’t know what I’d do. I’m hopelessly inept to do anything, really. Maybe if I had learned business, or finance, or computer programming. Or as my mother has always pushed on me: teaching.

But then something like The Clown’s Prayer helps me realize that even though I may not help people to walk again or — um — do whatever it is my brother does, sometimes a little seltzer down the pants is just what we all need.

The Clown’s Prayer

-Anonymous-