Something For You

Believe it or not, some of my friends actually look forward to updates on the page from me. I know. I’m a bit shocked myself. Do you know what sucks about that though? I’m really bad at performing on demand. I hear the mustachioed fat man grinding away on his organ, but it’s damn hard to put on the vest and cap to dance. Sure everybody loves dancing monkeys, but have you ever wondered about the monkey’s life? Do you think that little guy is doing fist pumps behind the curtain? I imagine that it’s a lot more likely that he’s slumped against the wall, smoking a cigarette on his stool and wondering where his life went wrong.

It’s incredibly hard to come up with something interesting to say. It is for me at least. My life isn’t that extraordinary and my intellectual well can’t bathe the whole village; which isn’t to say that I don’t have my entertaining moments. But, more often than not, they are moments. Only moments. Brief little slivers of time where all the random pieces click and a story unfolds.

My mind works a lot like a Mad Libs page. There’s a semi-coherent theme that I constantly fuck up by interjecting random thoughts and ideas that in no way carry the story forward. There is no linear thread to my thinking. I’m constantly distracted by dirt encrusted objects that are almost imperceptible lying in their shallow graves. I don’t really have the commitment to completely unearth these things. I just pull them partially free and amateurishly speculate about my archeological finds before I run off in search of some new curiosity.

Have you ever stopped and listened to your own thoughts? I mean like really removed yourself from the equation and taken a spectator’s seat. There’s this fantastic cast, but no real plot. Sometimes I take the Waldorf and Sadler approach, sitting in my balcony and reserving my judgment until after the show, but a lot of the times it’s like an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. I’m just a faceless silhouette heckling something that can no longer be changed.

Every now and then, in extremely rare moments, there’s something to be learned in there. I just get it. This great epiphany washes over me and I’m filled with elation. Brought to tears, I stand and clap. I mean I fucking clap like parishioners at gospel revivals. Can I get an AMEN.

For the entertainment value alone, whether it’s at my expense, or …well, my expense (I guess), it’s totally worth it. So I implore you folks. If you’ve got nothing to say, take a moment and listen. Never miss a good chance to shut up. I gotta go now. All capped up and vested out, it’s time to dance.