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Writing on My Steno Pad In Newark Airport

I feel so retro sitting in the Newark Airport waiting to board a flight to Louisville to meet Marcia and the girls. People playing with electronic gadgets and listening to music or podcasts all around me. I almost brought my CD player, but that also would have seemed old fashioned, so 1990s, carrying around a Sony Walkman in these iPod days. But I could have listened to NPR this morning if I had it.

Something else to mention--I'm writing on a steno pad! Who writes on a steno pad in this day and age? I should have a laptop computer, but I'm using a steno pad with a ball point pen, just like George Washington probably did when he wrote. This is so embarrassing. People sometimes look at me funny when I do this. "What's he doing?" they probably say to themselves. "I'll bet he's writing a letter to his mother."

Or they think, "Why is that guy taking notes on paper in an airline terminal? I wonder if he's a terrorist, taking notes on how to bring a bomb on an airplane? I mean, he doesn’t look like a Muslim, but who knows these days. Cat Stevens used to not look like a Muslim, and now look at him. What a waste! We could have had years of great music, but no; he goes off and becomes a Muslim and changes his name to Yusuf Something-or-Rather! Well, anyway, I don't like that guy over there writing on that wire bound, steno pad."

But I keep on writing. Fortunately, if I lose this pad of paper people won’t be able to read the handwriting. I guess my handwriting has gotten a little better since I started writing on a steno pad, but not much. But I'm journaling a lot more. With Marcia and the girls away, I spent some time every night and some of my breaks at work typing my journal entries from May until now, and I still couldn't finish entering them all. 

But some people are curious about guys writing on steno pads in the airport. "Excuse me, sir. Why are you writing on a steno pad?"
"Is there anything wrong with it?"
"No, but most people use computers nowadays and you look young enough that you would actually know how to use a computer."
"I guess that's a compliment? Well, I write on a steno pad because I'm a writer. I journal on the pad."
"You're a writer? Cool. Maybe I've read your books. What have you written?"
"Actually, I've never written any books, but I'm a published author of Sunday School curriculum, newspaper editorials, and some satire articles for The Wittenburg Door magazine."
"What in the world is Sunday School curriculum? I’ve never heard of that."
"It's what people use to teach Bible lessons in church."
"For little kids?"
"No. Well, it can be for little kids, but I write adult lessons."
"So why don't you use a computer?"
"I do use one, but I prefer to journal on a steno pad because it's easy to carry around and doesn't need a battery or electricity. Besides, I don't even have a laptop. In my job, I actually do work on a computer all day, every day, and I get kind of tired of it."
"I'm confused."
"Look, I'm a writer, OK? But, I can't make a living as a writer, so I have a regular job as a business analyst."
"So you're not really a writer then, are you?"
"No, I AM A WRITER because I write! You're an annoyer because you annoy."
"Ex-cyoo-oose me! I guess you are a writer--you seem to have a writer's personality. You're kind of nasty, like that writer that just died, J. D. Salinger."
"Well, he’s my hero, so why don't you go talk to someone else. Me and my steno pad would like to be alone."
"Gladly. But can I ask you one more thing?"
"What?"
"What is 'journaling'?"
"Have you heard of therapy?"
"Sure. Everyone I know is in therapy."
"Well, journaling is a lot like therapy, except instead of a therapist asking you questions and then you talk to them about yourself, in journaling you ask yourself questions and write about it. It's a lot cheaper and just as effective."
"I thought you were a writer, but I really just think you're too cheap to go to therapy, even though you really need it."
"Why would you say that."
"Well, for one, you're writing on a steno pad. That's just weird."
"I am weird. Who cares?"
"Oh, you're aware of it?"
"Of course I'm aware of it. And you know what else?"
"What?"
"Your momma wears combat boots."
"O-kay. That was random. And it doesn't even make any sense."
"Oh well. We used to say that when I was in the sixth grade to insult people. I guess they don't say that anymore?"
"No. Apparently not since you were in sixth grade."
"Oh, well. I guess I am just weird then."
"Why don't you write this conversation down in your journal?"
"I think I will."

I actually wrote this in Newark Airport on a steno pad waiting to get on a plane to Louisville in 2006.
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