As alluded to in a previous column, I just published a new collection of humor columns, Quietly Making Noise, which is now available to purchase on Amazon. Here is a free look at my new book’s innards. I hope the Introduction, titled “20 Bucks and a Byline,” encourages you to give Quietly Making Noise a spot on your nightstand or atop your toilet tank.
Regarding the latter’s proposed placement, I’ve often been told that my columns (in the neighborhood of 900 words) are the perfect length for readers’ bathroom enjoyment, making me wonder if my books should be printed on actual two-ply paper. If my new book serves only as a reliable literary laxative, I’m fine with that – as long as you catch yourself laughing out loud in the process.
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I almost titled this collection Full Time Consideration of Another Endeavor Might Be in Order in honor of one of Harry Chapin’s best story-songs, “Mr. Tanner.”
The song is about Martin Tanner, “a cleaner from a town in the Midwest” who was also a popular singer who performed locally for years. It was his music that made him most happy. The locals praised his performances, pressing him to pursue singing as a profession. Mr. Tanner gave it a shot, even squandering his savings to secure a show in NYC.
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Sadly, a fancy music critic covering the show dashed Mr. Tanner’s dreams with a wickedly brief review: “Mr. Martin Tanner, baritone of Dayton, Ohio, made his town hall debut last night. He came well prepared, but unfortunately his presentation was not up to contemporary professional standards. His voice lacks the range of tonal color necessary to make it consistently interesting.”
Then comes the critic’s stinging summation, “Full-time consideration of another endeavor might be in order.”
The line drops like a guillotine every time I hear it. That’s because I have always felt a kinship with Mr. Tanner. We both pursue our artistic passions in our sparest of time.
I have been writing humor columns as a freelancer since college. For many of the columns in this collection, I was paid $20. That’s about $1.60 per hour if you factor in the dozen or so hours that I put into the writing of each one. Maybe that’s why it’s called freelancing. A byline has always meant more to me than bucks. Hence, for 30-some years, I have held a primary job not tied to writing that puts food on the table, enables me to buy a new Toyota Corolla now and then, and paves the way to fund a self-published column collection. My books, I guess, are the equivalent of the town hall that Mr. Tanner rented in the Big Apple.
I have often joked, “I’m a widely unread writer.” I’ve never pursued column writing full-time, nor has anyone invited me to do so. I’ve been rejected by the best. I turn 59 in a few days. The older I get, the more the Harry Chapin critic’s last line resonates. While I have often pondered reconsidering my current endeavor as a freelance column writer, I still can’t seem to escape the laptop glow, let go of my writerly dreams. It’s the Mr. Tanner in me.
Harry Chapin’s song concludes this way: “Music was his life | It was not his livelihood | And it made him feel so happy | It made him feel so good | And he sang from his heart | And he sang from his soul | And he did not know how well he sang | It just made him whole.”
Mr. Tanner sings. I write. Each time I complete a column, I feel happy, I feel good, I feel whole. For the short-term, at least. I finish one, flush it from memory, and focus on the next. You’re only as good as your next column.
Here I am again with another self-published collection of columns, my sixth. The title comes from a Jimmy Buffett song, “Quietly Making Noise,” which became a permanent earworm in my head since first hearing it in 1994. I like to think, as a columnist, that I deliver the goods in a semi-respectable way without getting caught up in the need to ring the strength tester bell in this grand carnival we call life. Quietly, I write on, and if any noise results, I hope it’s your laughter.
Email Scott at scottsaalman@gmail.com.