Welcome to the latest installment of Five Minute Friday. So here I am on the front end of the assignment (writing) and looking forward to linking with my Five Minute Friday friends at fiveminutefriday.com . It’s always exciting — and often informative — to see how my fellow FMF friends develop their thoughts in a variety of different genres. If you get a chance, stop by.
I’ve been sharing snippets taken from Five Minute Friday: A Collection of Stories Written in Five Minutes Flat, compiled by Susan Shipe. They are a testament to the value of the exercise. This week, I’ll share some perspective from Laura who I hope inspires you to check us out … and maybe join in?
“FMF was one of the first online communities I found after starting a blog. These new friends offered an encouraging space and a welcoming place …to embrace the writing journey together.”
Okay. The prompt is the cryptic word LOUD. It should be interesting to see how my fellow writers respond to the prompt.
The timer is set, so I guess it’s time to GO…
I admit it. I wasn’t sure which way to go with this one. But as I thought about it — actually during the night as I slept on it — I was reminded of a couple of times when apparently I was too loud.
When I first started driving the Flintmobile, I didn’t have my own wheels so I used my Dad’s car. One morning as I was getting ready for school, Dad came storming in complaining about my, uh, volume level. Seems I not only changed his sleepy station to a more appropriate 60s playlist but also forgot to turn the volume down. Okay. A youthful discretion.
I also remember years later pulling in for a consistory meeting. As I opened the door to the church, I heard from the adjoining office, “Joe’s here!” before anyone had a chance to even see me. When I asked how they knew it was me, the pastor nonchalantly answered, “We heard you pull up.”
My wife and I often sparred about volume levels on the television … STOP
… or the radio in the car. She always insisted I was deaf, although, in truth, when Bon Jovi or Neil Diamond was on the playlist during her cleaning ritual, you could hear the lyrics in the detached garage.
Even today, the car volume is generally at max — and properly mixed front, back, left, right. I’ve always justified the higher than normal decibels to fighting road noise — especially if the sunroof or windows were open.
My new neighbors say they are entertained by my music as they do their laundry in the laundry room next door or just wander past the apartment. One commented he hasn’t figured out my likes yet, which is understandable since it varies day by day from Christian to Classical, from Country to Contemporary, from real Oldies (50s, 60s, and 70s) to Classic Rock.
Last week I saw my neighbor walking by with an umbrella under bright blue skies with nary a cloud in sight. I asked her why she had an umbrella. She said she heard thunderstorms were probable. When pressed further, she said she heard the weather report from the station I was listening to. The only problem was I was listening to a western Indiana station.
With apologies to no one, I follow Karen Carpenter’s advice … Sing. Sing a song. Sing out loud, sing out strong …
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good. — C.S. Lewis