Idea makers

People often ask writers where they get their ideas. It is such a basic part of an author's life that it hardly bears giving an answer. I have always figured that real life is indeed stranger than fiction. All a person has to do is to keep their eyes and ears open, and they will soon find their brains filled with far more ideas than they have time to write about. I can't begin to tell you how many columns I have written were born at the Red Lobster when Ivan and I would eat there. Now, living in Small Town USA I have to resort to the gossip at THE local cafe. Yes, there is only one.

However, this week has been proof that having kids helps too, especially if your kids are as "inventive" with their lives as mine are. Our daughter, who runs her own photography business, is the "appointed" photographer for the drag queen events in the Red River Valley of Minnesota and North Dakota. And you thought they were a bunch of old farmers that never did anything exciting or unusual! And this weekend she went to a concert in Fargo for Elton John and Billy Joel. Yup, life in rural America!

Today my oldest son called me from Las Vegas. He was laughing, as he had been reading the latest book by Tim Dorsey, his favorite author. He said he found the best quote he has ever read. It is: "Coleman, there are three- and only three- kinds of people in this world: Those who don't know they're damaged and blame others; those who realize they're damaged and blame others; and then people like you and me, who wear damage like comfortable pajamas."
Coleman swigged from his pint bottle. "Mine are the ones with the little feet."

I have to agree. That's a pretty good one. Then he went on to sort of nonchalantly mention that the "biker chick" he had taken some pictures of was a finalist for a "spread" in a pretty big biker magazine. I didn't ask a lot of questions. If she makes it into the magazine, he gets some pretty decent money out of it. And since things are pretty slow these days in Las Vegas (he is a Union audio/visual technician), he has been doing pretty well with his side-line business he has started. What is he doing? Making barbecue grills out of things like hot water tanks and old bathtubs. The strangest part of it is, he is actually selling them.

Then there is our youngest, who lives in New Orleans. He is wheeling and dealing to try to make his dream come true--having his own swanky Italian restaurant. He is tossing figures of millions of dollars around as unimpressed as if he was working for the government. I wish him the best. He's had way more than his share of trials in his life, so he's long overdue for some good news. When it happens, I'll let you all know so you can stop in for a scrumptious meal. He is a fantastic chef, having studied "real" Italian cooking (living with Italian families) for a while. He also learned a lot from his dad, who could outdo a lot of the big names on getting creative in the kitchen.

Oh, and lest I forget, I have a gal who lives in Clifford, North Dakota (population practically non-existant) who has adopted me as her "mom." She runs a floral business and she wanted some help with her website. She sounds like your typical "country farmer's wife," right? Well, she would be, except she used to be a Playboy bunny. Her husband went to Las Vegas on vacation a few years back and rescued her by taking her "back to the farm." She's a real sweetheart and the two of them plan to come to visit me this summer--on their motorcycle.

So, now that the home base has been put back in its place, I suppose I really should see if I can conjure up a new idea for another book. You know, try to figure out where I can find something worth writing about.

I hope you all have a creative day too!