The Story of John

Poet and renaissance man Seth Wieck wrote this about me recently:

“In my mind, he has endless energy to load Fed Ex trucks at 4 am before he recites Jim Harrison poems while deadlifting 400 lbs and making skillet biscuits a la Augustus McCrae.”

I read that and immediately laughed, sat up a little straighter, and liked Seth even more. I loved that in the mind of another, another poet but also another man, that’s what comes to mind when attempting to sum me up in a Substack note.

There’s fact and fiction there. I actually work for UPS, although due to rolling layoffs (two days on, three off, one on, five off, etc.) I haven’t worked a full week since February. Best I can tell from what I hear “on the line,” the company is trying to trim the fat, and evidently part-time employees who show up every day on time and do the work efficiently and safely and don’t bitch too much and wear proper footwear are considered “fat.” Yes, I’m a bit bitter. I do read Jim Harrison poems most mornings, and plan to do so until the day I cannot hold the book or see the page or both, at which point my prayer is that a sultry home health nurse will take up the mantle and whisper to me lines like

The world is so necessary.

I’ve not deadlifted 400 lbs (yet) although my goal has long been a pull (actually a push) of 405lbs. As John Wick says, “I’m working on it.” And for someone to even faintly see me as a variant of Gus McCrae tending skillet biscuits warms my heart. Yet truth be told, I lean more toward his stubborn stoic sidekick Woodrow Call. Just ask my family. But again, “I’m working on it.”

Seth’s gracious mini-sketch of me coupled with my reading of Alissa Wilkinson’s We Tell Ourselves Stories got me to thinking about the myths we make of others in our minds, and also those we labor to make of ourselves via word and image. The work of curation. The heart of Alissa’s very good book is the life arc of Joan Didion, and her book’s title comes from Didion scripture:

We tell ourselves stories in order to live.

We’re born storytellers. Myth-makers. And we do so in order to live, so as to make some sense or divine some meaning, if even a scrap, from the daily chaos of living in the valley of the shadow. (See what I did there? I dropped “valley of the shadow” in so as to show you I’m a writer familiar with biblical language and can use it when needed/wanted. It’s basically a myth-flex to further add color to The Story of John.) Alissa’s book highlights how much Hollywood has and continues to play a role in our myth-making, in everything from politics to religion and then some. An ongoing task of living is 1) to be aware of the myths, and 2) to search for the truth in and of them.

I’m working on a book proposal, one of my own. I sense my agent wishes I’d hurry it up. (See what I did there? A “book proposal” indicates I fancy myself a writer, and having an “agent” sounds oh so very impressive, right? Ha, further myth-making.) Anyway, one section of the proposal is the bio statement which you craft in third person speak. It’s so weird, but whatev. Here’s mine -

Much like Wallace Stevens got up each morning and went to his insurance job, John gets up each morning (earlier than Wallace) and loads trucks for UPS. Then he returns home to spend the rest of the day representing clients as a literary agent, collaborating with writers/speakers on ghostwriting projects, engaged in freelance editing work, spending an hour in the local CrossFit box, staying married, and walking the dog. Plus, he is part of the adjunct faculty for Western Theological Seminary’s low-res DMin program—The Sacred Art of Writing. He is a working-class poet.

John loves color. His coffee black. His wine red. His moods blue. And at times his language purple, but in moderation, like the wine. John believes in the resurrection of the dead, the communion of saints, the life everlasting, old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Ah, the stories we tell ourselves.

p.s. As for the purple language statement, that covers my undying affection for Brian Doyle, Pat Conroy, Harry Middleton, and Jesus (on a couple of dramatic occasions).