Prompt: Where is your favorite place to blog?
I'm blogging in my car
Turn on the radio
I pull a thought closer
It just says no
I say that I don't like it
But I know I'm a liar
'Cause when I drive
You heard me. I blog in the car.
Before you scratch your head over a vision of me propping my keyboard on a steering wheel or madly typing text into that smartphone (that I don't own, mind you) as I drift across the lanes of the highway, know that I am a car-talker.
That's right, a car talker.
I talk to myself in my car. I talk to others, too - coworkers, friends, family members, other drivers, my kids, political figures, celebrities - pretty much anybody is fair game. Since my marriage fell apart, I have had numerous, lengthy conversations with my soon-to-be-ex (none of which he's been in attendance for, of course). My car is like my idea zone, where I can muse aloud and blather and pontificate to a captive audience of me.
It's honestly where I do my best blogging, some of which is occasionally brilliant but alas, my scumbag brain doesn't remember half of it, and the half it does remember contains none of the witty dialog or engaging commentary I came up with on the commute into work. It's a pale echo, at best.
I keep telling myself I should get an old-fashioned tape recorder, or a smartphone with an installed voice memo app or something. But then I'd have to play it back and transcribe and that's just too much like work. Yeah, I'm a lazy blogger. Sue me.
Or better yet, tune in on the evening drive home, where I will address the subject (and you, and the entirety of the blogosphere) at length.
It's sure to be riveting.