The First Line

We have maintained a long distance friendship with a couple who lives in New England. I have known them forty years, since we were neighbors in Alaska. Bill met them twenty-years ago, and the guys hit it off like brothers. We have vacationed together and visited one another's homes for two decades. It is pleasant and fun.

But when the phone rings every Saturday morning, either on our end here in St. Louis or in Boston, I know exactly what the first line is going to be depending on which of our husbands initiated the call. "Those damned Republicans/Democrats!"

The good old boys have been on the phone for half an hour debating poiltics, jabbing one another, one upping the other guy, raising their voices. It's like a weekly jolt of adrenaline for them. By the end of their conversation, they almost sound concillatory, and I chuckle at their spat. I envision these two codgers walking a tight rope, arms outstretched straddling the political fence, trying their damndest not to splat on the wrong side.

My vision for humanity: outstretched arms prepared for a warm greeting, instead of fists balled, words snarled, punches hurled because of another person's political party, sexual persausion, ethnicity, religion ... My hope is for peace across the world.

Now, I have an offering for you writers. Check out The First Line Literary Magazine and see what you can do with this first line: Paul and Miriam Kaufman met the old fashioned way.

No entry fee and they pay $20 and copy of the book if your entry wins. What have you got to lose? Deadline May 1st.

Do a random act of kindness today. Hug someone unexpectedly. Say something positive. A smile is like a yawn.