Skip to main content

Pitching One-Liners

I am (or was?) the absolute, Dear God…Please help me…the worst at mix and mingles. And the reason (since figured out), is because I’m terrible at pitching one-liners.

One-liners are something like elevator talk, only aggravated by however many minutes you spend sweating it out hoping the elevator doors hurries and open up. Still not sure if I have all the kinks worked out, but I think I’m pretty close. I know I need to be brief, but now I just need to figure out exactly how to say it tidy, of course at the drop of a hat, and again…nicely. I’m thinking though, there has to be a reason I’m not naturally equipped to do this, but then too, if it doesn’t come to me pretty, in one line, then I can always smile and maybe compliment a portrait on a wall. Thank goodness I figured that out.

Writers, as astute researchers have correctly identified, work best locked in their solitary worlds. But I surprised myself a little today. I got sort of locked into a conversation where I instantly thought to myself, ‘now’s the time to practice on those one-liners.’ I, however, was on the telephone holding this conversation, so there weren’t any distractions I could handily point out, but felt it was the perfect time to get in a little practice. After all, the person I was talking to, I realize, is a person who’s only going to ‘get it’ if I say it succinctly. And of all topics, as it happened to be, we were talking about young people and how they handle sensuality and sex…one of my least favorite topics…at least talking over with this person! I mean, here my ears were being filled up with too much this and that, and all young people don’t understand about love and sex, while my mind tumbled over scrounging up this one-liner that would move the matter along…yes, to another topic!

And then there it came…a one-liner just a moseying along out of nowhere.
“They’re just struggling to understand it…” is what came out. “Them trying to raise the blinds and you trying to pull them down.”

…ut oh. Oh man! Okay, so it was two lines. But those two little lines sure severed one line. I don’t know. Maybe I should check with the phone company to see what happened…:-0


Popular posts from this blog

A Rumor About One Race

It’s a funny thing, how some things you hear stay with you in that sixth sense sort of way, as if the information will serve some future purpose.

True Story. I was in elementary school when a teacher got to talking about three true races—Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negroid, and how one day there would be One Race. For a placeholder I attended Philadelphia (PA) Public Schools, K-straight thru-12 (99.98% black student population) where there was always ‘that’ teacher who would put aside a textbook to impart ‘move to the edge of your seat’ information... something I later figured out would take “dynamic positioning” to find its originating source. I even think the teacher may have said we wouldn’t find this information written anywhere.

At any rate, I’m all kinds of fuzzy about how the original three races came to be, but recall 3rd grade hands going up in the air asking why this and how that and what about this, and then somebody saying, “unt un... my mother said...”

Naturally I was intr…

When Opinions Cross the Line

Two literary topographies brought this historical commentary together; a social media Headline asserting some books are irrelevant, and Stacey Dash’s memoir, ‘There Goes My Social Life’. (My other thoughts here).

I didn't pause long enough to so much as note the social media headline, but did pause after catching wind of Stacey Dash's outspoken stance on supporting American businessman and Republican politician, Mitt Romney. Stacey is an American Actress notable for her role in the film CluelessSIGH—I’ve never seen Clueless, but have seen this actress in other films... which was what inspired me to want to read her memoir. Being a Big Picture thinker, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the hoopla behind her outspoken political views.

My great-great grandfather, born in America in the mid 1800’s, was a Republican. Per my father, historically the American working class primarily voted Republican, though he, and then me, marveled about my great-great grandfather's r…

What Makes a Book Feel Good? ...A Top 10 List

When you it’s said... live and learn, you learn LOVE comes in stages. So far, I’ve come across three stages of love. Puppy Love. Hormonal Love. And the ultimate love. Unconditional Love.

Lo and behold albeit, after finally getting around to reading Roy Blount’s memoir, “Be Sweet” (a memoirist who has at least twenty some years on me), I got to reading him summarizing unconditional love as ‘just an expression’ ..."like any other two words." Now, because his memoir is largely satirical, and given the title, on top of knowing better to think I know more than my elders (haha), it was hard to tell whether to take the definition seriously or facetiously. Whichever the case, as of today I define unconditional love without conditions. Unlike puppy love, built largely on a giddy childish infatuation superficially marveling over things or people, or that hormonal love responding to the cyclones and ebbs moving our hormones in this invisible like cylinder, there are no ifs, ands…