Take Me To The Pilot


The greatest fight I ever saw, April 15, 1985 between Thomas Hearns and Marvin Hagler for the Middleweight championship, lasted only 8 minutes. The best songs I’ve ever heard, whether it be punk or pop are well under 4 minutes. Brevity is its own art form. In the almost two years of My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog, I think my finest moments have been my shortest pieces. I know that’s the case for so many of you who read, comment, and write.

The 100 word style needs to be recognized, but here, of course, I want it to have a soundtrack. Starting today, Tuesday, January 24th, and each subsequent Tuesday, I’ll show you a song. You write 100 words using the tune as inspiration. There’s no word prompt. You don’t even have to acknowledge the artist or song title if you don’t feel the need. Just give me 100 words and not 101.

Every Tuesday at 9pm eastern, I’ll choose an entry I felt did the best interpretation and that person can choose the next song or the next artist or defer to me. Below the song choice is the link button. Here’s Leeroy, our 100 Song Robot:

My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog

<div align=”center”><a href=”https://lancemyblogcanbeatupyourblog.wordpress.com&#8221; title=”My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog”><img src=”http://i1091.photobucket.com/albums/i398/geniegirlgraphics/Robot-Badge.png&#8221; alt=”My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog” style=”border:none;” /></a></div>

Here’s my 100 words:

Eighty-one percent of the voters in the sixth district of Georgia sent him to Washington D.C. Only 37 years old, recently divorced, and handsome, he drew immediate attention.

“Representative Hinds, you should see this.”

A staff aide tossed the latest Newsweek Magazine across his desk. There she was, standing in a revealing red dress with a headline across her torso.

“The Chinese ambassador’s 21-year-old daughter and the U.S. Congressman. Is it high treason?”

Hinds looked away and put some personal items inside a box.

“Sir, it’s time for the hearing. You are required to be led to the chamber.”

This week’s inaugural song is Take Me To The Pilot by Elton John. The lyrics are from Bernie Taupin.


28 thoughts on “Take Me To The Pilot

  1. “Take me to the pilot.”
    “What’s wrong?” The flight attendant looked at me dismissively.
    “We’re off course.”
    “I can assure you that—”
    “Don’t assure me.” I got up and pushed her out the way.
    She screamed after me. “Stop!”
    Running up the aisle, I pulled open the curtain segregating coach from first class and proceeded to bang on the cockpit door.
    “Why are you flying over the Atlantic?” I yelled.
    I turned to stare at the frightened faces in first class.
    One Asian lady said, “We fly to Cambodia … need to go over Atlantic.”
    “Cambodia? I’m going to Canada.”

  2. Wow…that was ALOT harder than I thought it would be…but I’m in. Don’t judge..(then what’s the freakin’ point!) Seriously…I’m a poetry writer 😉

  3. Listen to me.
    You are going the wrong way.
    You are supposed to be going southwest. NOT north.
    Don’t you listen to me? I don’t want to go that way, it’s cold that way. I am in need of warmth and sunshine and fruity drinks by the water.
    Not snow, cold and hot chocolate by the fire. I can get that back home. I don’t care if you ARE just the stewardess…
    We are supposed to be on our way to Maui. Just TAKE.ME.TO.THE.PILOT!

  4. This is an awesome idea! I’m just not sure how often I’ll be able to participate, as I have (1) little imagination and (2) enough difficulty in sending my kids off to school in the morning with 100 words or less, let alone writing a post to that length…

    Can’t wait to see what comes of this!

Whatdya Got?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s