Quintus Horatius Flaccus was born some sixty-five years before Christ and died eight years before the Savior’s birth. Known in the English-speaking world as Horace, he was the leading Roman lyric poet during the reign of Augustus the first Emperor of the Roman Empire. “Carpe diem” or seize the day and “non omnis moriar” are all Horace originals from a long time ago. In Horace’s poetic style he expressed his personal and emotional feelings. In his world lyric poems did not have to rhyme, and even today do not need to be set to music or to a beat. “Perfect” I thought! I’ll be a poet in the style of the great Horace! No music and no rhyme, I got the time, let the writing begin!
Several years ago I wrote my first blog about my travels around the country in what I’ve referred to as a science experiment. Traveling our nation’s highways as a long-haul trucker during those months around and through our biggest cities, as well as smallest populated crossroads, was an unimaginably rewarding experience. Inspirational, grand, eye-opening, are all words that come to mind. The scenes, the people and places were always changing and so long as I was on the road there would be no end to them
I wrote of those experiences and shared them with the world. I mean that literally! To my great surprise my Internet posts were read regularly by folks across the country and as far away as Europe and Asia. Over the blog’s short life of thirty-three installments there were thousands of visits and even more page views. Comments and compliments flowed-in on a regular basis. I was on a roll, literally and figuratively! To say the least it was fun in telling those stories while they lasted. I couldn’t wait to post the next episode.
Unfortunately I was forced by circumstances to put aside that first blog. My days as a published albeit unpaid “author” came to an abrupt halt, with my story left unfinished, and my readers no doubt wondering, “what happened?” I was still on the road but my attentions were needed elsewhere, no allowances for writing were given. Maybe someday I’ll add a post script — a last entry — to provide everyone an ending to the story, a conclusion that I and my readers all deserve.
In the years that have gone by I’ve continued to write, but to a much smaller audience, mostly to myself and occasionally to my friends and family on Facebook and elsewhere. Much of it related to my family history research, but not all. But from time-to-time I’ve been reminded by others of that first blog and how much they enjoyed it. In response to it and my other endeavors — of the literary kind — I’ve often been told, “you know Rick, you should write another blog.” Some have even suggested a book, imagine that! Admittedly I’ve been bitten by the writing bug in recent months more than ever before. Which brings us to this, my new undertaking, my second published blog.
My interests are wide and varied, so what should I focus on, what should I say? After all, in my first endeavor when crisscrossing the country there was always something to write about, a story to tell. All I had to do was look out my cab windows at the passing scenes, the places, people, the signs as they rushed by. Where I was going or where I had been, all I had to do was document those events as they occurred.
My world doesn’t move nearly as fast or as far away as it once did, nor do the faces and places change that often. In thinking about these things over the last few months the thought that comes to mind is the Seinfeld show being in Jerry’s words a show about nothing. Heck, if he can do it why can’t I? But surely something will come to mind that I can write about. Something that will entice you the reader to return for yet another helping.
On Facebook one is easily lost amid a sea of hundreds, if not thousands of “friends,” that clamor for the reader’s attention. Here on this blog anyone who chooses to visit will do so for one reason only, just to see what I have to say. I hope to make it interesting and worthy of your time, after all we only have so much of it to give away.
So, why this overwhelming need to write? I don’t know, it’s simply part of me, it’s who I am. Like Horace I guess it has something to do with a need to express my personal and emotional feelings, to put them into words. Maybe it’s therapy but ultimately it’s about three latin words I mentioned at the beginning: “non omnis moriar.” Translated they mean Not all of me shall perish. With that famous phrase, written sometime between 23 and 13 BC, Horace ended his poetical work “Odes” hoping — with his writings — he would never entirely die. Would I be wrong to wish for the same?