@ A Fork in the Road

Words of wisdom
Words of shame

Words to delight
Words to explain

I hear you. You want the words. Words to help you navigate your mazes. Words to tell you more about what I'm thinking. Why I'm thinking. How I'm thinking. Words like, "Why would I be surprised?" or "I called that like 10 years ago." Words like, "You reminded me of corn" which aren't even my words but are so familiar to me that I totally understand and could have uttered them myself. You want the words that make little or a lot of sense. You want the words to break up the tedium. Word up with words. Word Power. Word.

Here goes:

This coffee tastes pretty good. I know, it's 11:16 a.m. and I'm just getting some coffee...you know how days go. 11:26 a.m. now. Plus ten minutes; too distracted. No topics. No quips. I'm growing tired of quips. The Twitter is all about the quips. I quit the Twitter and, thus, I quit the quips. Generally I have more than 140 characters to say. Not today, though.

Two people in the past week--in the past four days in fact--have suggested that I do a one-man show. What?! What the fuck do they think I've been doing for 43 years, and almost 9 months? A duet?

Some people are suggesting I take "The Act" on the road. I went to a birthday party for someone who just turned 40 this past weekend. For some reason people begin to panic about their shit at 40, maybe 30, definitely 50. Not saying that the party girl was panicking but thee was a party and people intoned an "old" vibe for some reason. I don't really remember if I did anything especially different for my 40th birthday. I don't remember much about anything anymore but I do not think anything especially special occurred. I do have a friend who's doing a big cross-state mountain bike thing with a bunch of guys to commemorate his 40th. In California. But at this 40th birthday party I just attended, I was riffin' wise--AS I DO IN THESE SETTINGS--and I was on fire. Riffin' in voice, doing characters, quick to the one-liner, pun, and the soft burn. I was looping and arcing and just on the fire [Richey, Wave, you KNOW what I'm saying]. From playing the dumb guy ("What's a Facebook?") to screaming out obscenities ("Nigga please!"), I was performing as if there were no remaining matinees. Closing night every night.

So this one dude, who I used to work with, professed to miss that sort of manic genius madness and said, "you should totally do a one-man show." Huh?! What the fuck do they think I've been doing for 43 years, and almost 9 months? An ensemble piece?

But what on earth would I do? My oral history? My keen observations? Some funny jokes? Schtick?! What am I now, Billy "Jerry Seinfeld" Crystal? Egads! Or do I burn bridges, tell truths, and wreak havoc a la Dave Chapelle? But I'm neither funny or prophetic or clever. I'm just a mope who feeds off the humor, reason, and cleverness of others. Like I said, I'm a chameleon. A fraud. A liar. A phony. A thief.

2:03 p.m. now. Plus two hours; had to do some stuff. Had to go to doctor. Very healthy followup, but I'm a big fat pig having gained 6 pounds since the last visit. Oink! He says, "...don't gain 50 and you're OK." Huh?! So we talked quickly about my health and spent most of the time talking about "time." Time "...is our most under-appreciated resource. I try to be as efficient as possible," he said. You know what I said?

I said [this] and I rolled out, don.

Gotta roll out now, too. Hooking up with my boy, and #1 fan, Burkeley Carrol, tonight.