Reciept of Honor

    “Did you see the review?”

    “It wasn’t what I expected.”

    “Nothing is what we expect. You should be proud. Most people can’t say they received even one review.”

    “Yes, I suppose, but then I didn’t expect this review, as I didn’t enter any contest where a review was warranted.”

    “Didn’t you tell me you entered a poetry contest?”

    “Well, yes. But it was a joke. I sent my grocery store receipt. It had all the required components. It was succinct, relatable, and ended with sticker shock…now that I think of it, it had the makings of a good poem, even though possibly a bit unorthodox. I had no idea it would be taken seriously. Art, who knew!”

    She is like that. She can’t believe that she has anything to offer. I wouldn’t go so far as saying she is going to be another Mya Angelo, but then she will never know if she continues to harbor this notion that she has no talent.

    Talent is judged by ones acceptance as a representative of commonly recognized emotions, insight, an ability to describe the feelings you receive from the pulse of a society. Descriptions are subjective, they must be. We cannot describe a scene or give words to an emotion without the prejudice inherent in our own experience. We cannot abandon our past influences because we choose to, but we can expand our ability to change. 

    People do not recognize the power the past exerts over the future. The more experience we absorb, the more it changes the way we view the world around us. It is what we do with the knowledge we gain, that reveals itself in our words and actions. When you fail to recognize the past as having influence, you are disadvantaging reactions to your future. 

    She does not see that her understanding of the present is the collection of her experiences, her memories, and how she sees the present, and is able to predict the future. When you deny the relevance of individual experience, you reject the implication that what you have to say influences others, whether intentionally or unintentionally.  We all benefit, or are damaged, by what we say to others, or what others say to us.

    A one-star review, although not as devastating as having to stay in a one-star motel, does leave a lasting impression, not only on the reviewed, but those who know of the review. But how do you undo a review, or take it back?  It may be simpler to pretend it never happened, or play up the aspect of it being the joke it was intended to be. But then if it was a prestigious contest, being mentioned is a feat in itself. What does a one-star mean anyways. I’m sure there are people who’d give up their parking spot to even be considered, let alone be considered a one-star reviewee.

    “Do you have any more poems? You never show me any of them, so I have no idea what they involve, what you have to say. Thinking you have failed when you get one bad review is not the way to look at it.”

    “Who said it was a bad review?”

    “I just assumed from the way you are carrying on about it that it must have been not as favorable as you would have liked. But then, what does favorable really mean. It is not as encouraging as let’s say, good, or great, but then it doesn’t scream bad or terrible. Did you happen to photo copy the poem, or take a picture of it, or anything? I’d like to see it.”

    “It was a grocery receipt. Why would I copy a receipt for coffee, eggs, butter, possibly ice cream for?”

    “You’ve got a good point. What kind of recalcitrant  reviewer would not know a grocery receipt when he or she saw it, and simply throw it away. Wouldn’t you know if it was a poem or someone was playing a joke on you? Are you sure you sent the receipt, and not one of your midnight scribbles? What is this?”

    “It’s a check.”

    “Yes, I see it’s a check. It’s for fifty dollars and made out to you. There is a note attached to it saying, if I may, (Intuition, 50% chance of being correct!) What does that mean? And it’s signed Rick. Do you know a Rick?”

    “Well, I didn’t think I did at the time. I do now of course. I was going to cash the check, but it reminded me of the first dollar I earned. I had meant to keep it, but I forgot and spent it on something…can’t remember what, but that’s not the point. I was thinking I would not make that mistake again, and frame it. If I’m ever famous I will have this to remember where I began. If I’m not, well, I’ve got a check for fifty dollars and a note from Rick.”

    She is beginning to worry me. Delusion has many forms. When one begins to think of being famous, and the cause of that fame is a grocery receipt, it may be too late. And this Rick person. For all I know he could be a gigolo type who believes he’s struck an artistic vein and wants to get in on the ground floor. He must have seen something in that receipt that gave him the idea she is going to be more than I can imagine her ever being. Can’t come right out and say that though. Nothing worse than dashing the dreams of a budding artist, but then encouraging someone who has no talent can be cruel. 

    “Who is this Rick guy? Has he offered to meet with you to discuss your literary career? You have to be careful you know. There are a lot of charlatans out there who prey on would be artists, or so I’ve read.”

    “Rick is the checkout guy at the store. When I got the check and the note I assumed it was him. I went back to see if I could get a duplicate of my submission, but he said he couldn’t do that. It was probably unethical, and why would I want a copy of a receipt? He seemed to know nothing of the receipt or contest. I felt like such a creep I had to buy something just so I wouldn’t appear so weird to those behind me in line. You know how people get when you start scratching off the daily lottery bonanza while they wait, rude. So I bought a pack of gum, thanked him for the information about receipts, and got out of there.”

    “What did you do with the receipt?”

    “I signed it and gave it to Rick to keep. I told him to hang on to it until I’m famous, and then he’ll know why I asked about getting a copy of the receipt that started it all.”

    “Oh!”