mothwabit droppings

I was smoking all by my lonesome this evening at the corner store.  Listening to Nana's Glorious Days on my mp3 over and over.  I was depressed and thinking I wish I could teach underprivileged kids on my day off or something.  And now, while I am writing for my second job, I realize that THIS is my voice.  My articles are read by children across the country.  And my Teacher's Guides are a whisper to the ear of all the teachers subscribed to our magazines.  Funny.  I've been writing since 1999 and I really haven't thought of it this way.  They were just potboilers to me.

I may not join Al Gore or be an eco-warrior but I can tell kids and teachers across the country to start acting now!  Recently I've told em to write letters to their congressmen and their mayor to do something about the Renewable Energy Bill.  I've also told them about the benefits of wind farms and Green Buildings.

I may not be Mother Theresa healing the sick but I am able to preach about harmony, love, and caring thru my little snippets.

I realize that I can transmit my values and my conscience through this avenue. 

Why worry about such things?  Because this life has to mean something.  It has to.  Otherwise, life would be senseless and mediocre.