I spent the better part of today comparing different colored metallic foil fringe and tinsel curtains, because I live the sort of life where stuff like that frequently comes into play. However, thirty-six hours earlier, I was at a wedding held in an all-wood American Legion hall, located in Michigan, to see off my friend, who currently lives in New Mexico, before he went back to Germany to live with his new bride. My date had just shattered the heart of a second grader on the dance floor while my best friend and his wonderful wife helped me guess the flavor of jellybeans between trips to the open bar. While catching up with some of my favorite companions, I was asked about my writing and when I would post something new. My response was, “When I have something to write about.”
Normally, my weeks are fraught with strangeness but this one was full of extra work, job interviews and my internet connection repeatedly committing suicide for some mysterious reason. However, I can’t do with an entirely dull week so, obviously, I did a few things to spice it up. Anytime I made a purchase, I always claimed that the price was the year I was born. I remembered always overhearing it in restaurants. Someone would say, “The total is 19.55” and the person would respond with “Oh, that’s the year I was born!”
So that’s exactly what I did, only I did it no matter what the price was. My best reaction was when the kid wrapping my subs turned the screen around when I claimed 2518 was my birth year, to check if he had put in the right price. When he gave me a concerned look, I just nodded and gave him my most serious eyes. I considered winking or mouthing, “I’m from the future” but got distracted by the delicious aroma of food.
I had a strange dream that night but, again, that’s not abnormal for me either. If I wrote down every dream I had this would not only be the worst blog in the history of the world it would also be regularly upsetting to anyone who happened across it. I drew a scene from it after I woke up. To put it in context, I am pretty sure I was inhaling fumes from the gas fireplace while sleeping.
I ended up having one of my illustrations featured on I Love Charts last week, except someone claimed that it wasn’t really a chart. Either way, it ended up getting a little extra traffic so I thought I’d just let my new audience enjoy what was already there to see. They probably didn’t stick around though since my blog is mostly chart free. I suppose I should really create a legitimate chart to hold their interest and to make up for the non-chart that someone else submitted on my behalf. A lot of people argue that chart-based-humor died out a long time ago.
Based on the chart I just made, I would have to agree. It’s definitely more true than it is funny. However, everyone is encouraged to send it into I Love Charts, family members and to print out copies to be placed all over the office.
I’ve always sort of figured that having a lot of power is like being presented a box full of cat whiskers. It’s an indescribably wonderful gift, but you’re really not sure what to do with it. I recently had an extended conversation with someone about the tragic events happening around the world and the poor leadership behind it. I went on and on about the feud over education and encouraged ignorance in this country while they went on and on about war and global poverty. Their assumption was that the entire world was controlled by people who wanted power for predominantly selfish reasons and claimed that this phenomenon only worsened as leaders aged. We also discussed the inefficient nature of food production and how the American government claimed that Social Security was unsustainable. Through some combination of sleep deprivation and gin, I achieved a plan that would satisfy both sides of the political fence and save everyone a bundle.