I'm ever scanning the world for sterling examples of boldness to report on, and I found some true moxie yesterday in my local News & Observer.
The story by Kathleen Purvis was about Hog Heaven, an inn and spa devoted to an appreciation of pork. "'I figured if California could have the Napa Valley, maybe it was time for the South to celebrate what makes us truly happy,'" owner Sue Trotter says. "'And no place appreciates bacon like the South.'"
This North Carolina mini-resort doesn't stop with a pork-heavy menu and opportunities to spend time with the cute little piglets: "...You can relax under a cooling raw-bacon eye mask while you get a facial with high-quality leaf lard, prized for its antioxidant content."
I was worrying a bit about how comfortable it would be to eat pork while patting a pig; especially since I liked the hogs that wandered the streets near where I lived in India, found them surprisingly personable. And then of course I came to the final punch line: April Fool's Day. I'd been completely suckered up to that very last sentence.
What was bold was that story. And the photograph that went with it.
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I’m a writer who dodged being a minister; I saw that my dharma, my calling, was instead to write about body and spirit, to explore in fiction my metaphysical questions. I’ve spent the past 35+ years as a freelancer, with 2 novels, 2 nonfiction books, magazine and newspaper articles from 25+ countries, a few seasons as a TV reporter, copy for ad agencies, a winter in India, and my manuscript and career consulting services for writers.
It’s not because I’m naturally lion-hearted that I’ve chosen the topic of bold living and bold writing. It’s because I aspire to living and writing with courage. I wrestle with these matters; I even have a touch of an anxiety disorder, specifically obsessive-compulsive disorder. You probably know the saying: we teach what we need to learn.
I post here about daily fears and triumphs, about writing and, if I ever get my courage up, about mysticism, the ultimate brazen act: direct experience of God. I hope you’ll leap into the wide-ranging conversation here and come back often. I hope you’ll find the talk here encouraging for your own adventures.
It’s not because I’m naturally lion-hearted that I’ve chosen the topic of bold living and bold writing. It’s because I aspire to living and writing with courage. I wrestle with these matters; I even have a touch of an anxiety disorder, specifically obsessive-compulsive disorder. You probably know the saying: we teach what we need to learn.
I post here about daily fears and triumphs, about writing and, if I ever get my courage up, about mysticism, the ultimate brazen act: direct experience of God. I hope you’ll leap into the wide-ranging conversation here and come back often. I hope you’ll find the talk here encouraging for your own adventures.
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6 comments:
I'm such an article skimmer that I didn't realize it was a joke until you told us! Sunggling a pig with bacon on one's eyes was not my idea of heaven though!!
Since I've written a lot of travel stories about spas, I've been wrapped in some odd items, slimy greenish mud stuff for example. So I was on the edge of my chair reading that piece, thinking: damn, what a story angle! and Who would ever go there?
You got me! I believed it until you said it isn't so.
Greta
The details are weirdly persuasive, aren't they? As with any piece of fiction, precision of relevant details creates credibility.
Just realized that my recent posts have included: pigs, dogs, camels and flowers. Must be spring.
I kept thinking the writer would say something about how ironic it was the spa owner's last name was "Trotter" (ie: pig's feet) ... and her first name was Sue ... I wondered if her middle initial was "E". You know Sue-E!
And I also thought the infamous Sue Trotter was going to take a whole lot of heat from the PETA/Veggie crowd.
But very, very clever.
I noticed Trotter, too, Mitmoi, and was still surprised. Didn't catch Su-ee though.
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