I did something that I am not sure I should have done. I asked how I could help out at my local chapter of the League of Utah Writers. I think I am the President now, or something very close to that. There was no vote taken. In about five seconds, I was the new acting leader with a promise of some transition time—as in, “You can begin with next month’s meeting.” We meet once a month. I have a whole month to transition into the role.
We had just finished our January meeting. Robert Kirby was our guest speaker. If you don’t know, he is a popular writer for the Salt Lake Tribune and somewhat of a local celebrity, a cop turned columnist. He is a keen observer with a fantastic sense of humor and often pokes fun at the local culture. Sometimes he doesn’t just poke, he skewers it.
Mr. Kirby explained that laughter produces a chemical high. Our brains produce dopamine when we laugh, a chemical that induces a feeling of wellbeing—like opium or cannabis. It’s a great way to get high, both legally and morally.
There we were, 30 or 40 of us getting as high as Kings Peak while Kirby related hilarious story after hilarious story. He had us laughing for over an hour. You can imagine just how high I was by the time the evening was over. I don’t know if this natural high is as detrimental to one’s judgment as a high from controlled substances would be, but if my actions are any indication, there was an impairment.
It was on this high, courteous of Mr. Kirby, I stepped up and asked the current leader of our chapter, “How can I help?” The answer, “Takeover.” And I said yes. Obviously I was not thinking straight. The look on our current leader’s face when I said “yes” was one of ecstasy, not the drug, but the emotion. I do think however, she was feeling a whole lot higher at that point. So yes, I blame you Mr. Kirby for what I have gotten myself into. Thanks for the high—I think.
Do you like to write, are you a writer, want to be a writer or just like the idea of hanging out with intelligent, creative, and accomplished people? Check out the League of Utah Writers and visit a local chapter.
Jimmy Buffet in Margaritaville initially blamed a woman. He then conceded that maybe it was nobody’s fault. In the end, he takes responsibility and acknowledges that, ‘it’s his own darn fault’. Kirby may be getting the blame today, but my guess is you’ll come around and see it for what it is – and reap the rewards of leadership. Bravo, Jeff! You are a man of gumption! And the League of Utah Writers will benefit.
Writer, runner, attorney, dad, husband and great neighbor is a tall order. You fit the bill.