Fragments From Floyd

Darn near spilled my coffee all over myself this morning when I looked outside at the porch thermometer (barely 30)... 'cause just beyond the walkway a huge marshmallowy ghost hoovered 4 feet off the ground! I'd forgotten the great production last night wherein the Keeper of the Grounds had recruited the staff here to help get a queen-sized bedsheet over the top of a 7-foot lilac. The staff had guffawed at this silliness, claiming "it'll be on the ground by the time we go to bed". He was wrong. I forgot it was there. So with the coffee and this early adrenalin surge, I think I'm ready to put the finishing light and airy touches on my Powerpoint presentation for later this morning.

I'm walking on the wildside here, taking the approach that, with a 10K-word paper reduced to less than a 10 minute presentation, the way to keep it unhurried, informal and easy to listen to is to not overprepare. Gulp. This could cut two ways, you understand. Risky business here.

I could come away perceived as a glib easy speaker who communicates without notes in an entertaining yet professional manner. But, on the other hand, I run the risk of completely losing my loose plan to weave together amusing excerpts gleaned from 33 pages of text, morphing pitifully into a stuttering bumpkin reading each bullet, word for word at breakneck speed, with beaded sweat on my brow and my heart in my throat.

So. Who will I be today? Garrison Keillor? Or Mel Tillis? Off I go.