I’m not really a detective; I just play one on the internet.
Oh my, it’s been a long time hasn’t it? Well, no worries. I’m still kickin’ it here in New London. The truth is, I’ve been busy working on my screenplay and having a ball. After my 4-week “Story” class ended, I signed up for the 8-week “Screenwriting” class. While the first class concentrated on plot, character development, and the “three act structure,” the second class is all about writing. This is where the story really takes shape and the characters start to come to life. It’s been so fun to write, and I’m already up to Act III. By the end of this class, I will have a completed screenplay under my belt. (That’s a big deal. Seriously proud of this!)
(BTW, did you know that’s the name of a real town near my parents’ house? Nowthen, Minnesota. You just can’t make this stuff up.)
The other thing I’ve been up to for the past several months is playing a detective on the internet. Since I started this blog, I’ve had three people contact me and ask me to help them find their biological birth mothers. Isn’t that the coolest thing ever? I just love-Love-LOVE doing this, and although I have yet to crack my first case, I’ve gotten close enough to know I can do it. And I absolutely can’t wait until I can actually call one of these people and let them know I found their mom. Talk about rewarding work!
So, what qualifies me to do this, you ask? Absolutely nothing. Except… over the years, I’ve become pretty dang good at “people finding.” It started when I was working on my own family tree. From there, I used my detective skills to track down over 600 classmates for my 20 year high school reunion. And while other people (sane people) would consider this a daunting and tedious task, I admit I kind of enjoyed it.
Here’s why. The truth is, deep down, I’ve always wanted to be an Angel. (And really, come on, tell me one little girl who grew up in the 70s who didn’t.)
Here’ a little snippet from a blog post I wrote in 2009, just after Farrah Fawcett died:
I remember watching the pilot episode of Charlie’s Angels with my mom in 1976. I was only 9 years old (and up way past my bed time), but from the moment I saw that show, I was completely hooked. Maybe it’s because I had already been playing detective with my cousin Kristine for about a year or so and was ripe for a new TV role model. You see, Kristine was older and cooler than me, so she always got to be “Pepper” from Police Woman. I had to be “Christie Love.” I had no idea who that was, but Kristine told me she was the only other female detective on TV at the time. So, that’s who I got to be… Christie Love. Nice name for a hooker maybe, but not a serious detective like myself.
So, onto the scene burst these three beautiful TV police detectives who were smart, sporty, and independent. They worked for themselves, had a fancy office, fancy cars, and fancy clothes. My new life plan was set. I wanted to be a detective.
Of course, by fifth grade, reality set in when my Farrah Fawcett haircut went horribly wrong. But I never really outgrew the dream of being an Angel.
During my sabbatical last year, when I was deep in the dreaming stage of my mid-life crisis, I wondered what it would take to actually get licensed as a private investigator. I mean really, how hard could it be? (I know… I’ve inherited this faulty gene from my mother.)
So, I checked into it. First, you have to be free of felony convictions.
Second, you have to be of good character, honesty, and integrity.
Check, check, check (back me up here, people).
Third, “the applicant must supply a $10,000 Surety Bond at the time of application.”
And there you go… the deal breaker. I’m not even sure what a Surety Bond is, but I’m damn sure I don’t have an extra $10,000 to go buy one.
So, for now, I’ll just keep playing a detective on the internet. And if you have any unsolved mysteries to throw my way, by all means, send them!