"I want to write a book someday."

Take your pick: "I want to write a book someday," or "I want to be a painter someday," or "I want to be a dancer someday."

Someday is the loser word. If you want to write a book, paint a picture, dance in Swan Lake, now is the time. Here are the excuses I've heard:
"Oh, I need to spend time with my kids right now."
"I'm so busy at work I just come home and sit."
"I know I'll never be any good at it."
"I have no ambition."
"I'm old."
"I'm losing my mind."
"I want to finish watching House of Cards first.
"I'm constipated."

I'm here to tell you a secret. You can do anything (except maybe dance Swan Lake) at any age. Yes you can. I am not some young punk telling you this. I am 74 years old.

Two years ago, Louise dragged my depressed derriere out of the house. "You're going to art class with me," she said. "The people are lovely and the teacher is just great."

"I haven't drawn anything since second grade." I'm yowling even as she takes me out to the car.

In class I meet Marian, the teacher. Her name has come up before in this blog. It will come up again. Marian hands me a piece of yupo. I don't know what yupo is, so she explains. "Yupo is watercolor paper with a glossy finish. You can wipe off anything you don't like. See?" she says, swishing on some paint and wiping it off. "You can change anything you want on yupo."

Marian points to a rooster that she has painted. It is about 5 feet by 20 feet. At least it feels that way. It has different colors than this one, which she also painted, but you get my drift. It is a damn good rooster.

Well poop. I open up my box of watercolors that Louise bought for me this afternoon and begin. My worst fears are confirmed. I can't draw for squat. After two hours of work, my rooster is done. It doesn't look much like Marian's:

Marian swoops down. "I love that coxcomb. Don't change that coxcomb."

"It looks like a miscarriage," I say.

"Don't change that coxcomb." She pauses. "You might be interested in trying collage," Marian says. "You cut things out and paste them together."

That was two years ago. How do I feel about art class? Art class is better than church. Art class is better than the celestial kingdom. Art class is better than sex. Especially at my age.

So what's the secret? What do you have to do to write a book? Learn to dance? Paint a picture?

THIS IS IT FOLKS, THE SIMPLE SOLUTION: TAKE A CLASS OR FIND A TUTOR. YOU'LL THINK YOU'VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN.