By Clay Reid
Well, as you see by my headline, it’s another hard day for Clay as a writer. Writing is tough, and it’s even tougher when you’re stupid. No, John Wayne did not say that; big Daddy Reid did.
You can believe it, too. Being old doesn’t help either. If anybody has ever read any of my musings (I think that’s a word anyway), then you know that almost every deadline, I push to the very limit. Not out of meanness or spite—it’s just out of pure forgetfulness and stupidity (I know that’s a word).
Most every written article by me is done at 4 a.m., in my underwear, at my computer, after I had been awoken in the middle of my sleep by the article God is screaming at me, “Get up dummy, it’s your deadline day.”
I must drive poor Mrs. Crabtree crazy. She will even send me texts reminding me a few days before to try and help her “Ten-second Tommy” out. Sometimes it works, but most times, it’s something only the article Gods can do.
Well this month’s article was no different, well sort of anyways. You see I woke up, and of course it’s in the same manner and all, but just like always I was able to hurry through some scribblings and scratched together an article, barely making it safe at home plate.
The only thing is that nowadays the play can go under review. Well, that’s just what happened. My call at the plate was reversed. Now I know you’re sitting there with a puzzled look on your face wondering how I can mix in a baseball metaphor with an article screw-up.
Well, let me tell you how. After writing my article, I was soon headed out west as I prepare to defend my title as the New Mexico State Champion Coyote Caller. I had a smile on my face with the satisfaction of knowing that I had completed one more Flintstone-style writing and was in the clear for another month. That’s when Mrs. Crabtree pulled the rug out from under me just as I pulled into the middle of nowhere in New Mexico.
TEXT: Clay did you get my email? You wrote that article in February.” Are you kidding me? I sat down and wrote pretty much the same dang article I wrote in February about my horse “LE and Stupid.” I could not believe that I scrambled out of bed almost killing the wife, rushed into my office, painfully chicken-pecked on the computer for an hour and half, for absolutely nothing.
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