Dear Number One Fan,
Some people tell me there is some service writers can use to solicit cash donations from their readers and suggest I ought to install one of those.
In return supporters would gain access to special content that others don’t have access to.
You already get access to such content and have since something like 2003 or 2005, depending on where you visit.
And you get access to these blurred lines without much hassle, not like I ask for special benefits or anything like that cuz destiny has already taken care of that right.
So whether you visit and read the latest updates online or receive them via smoke signal you get to them eventually.
The people that suggest I use this form of patronage don’t understand old timers and how some things work, no sir and no ma’am.
One of them asked me what I would write if I had such a page and I said “you’d be lucky if you got to kiss me because it would be electric and it would feel like greased lightning.”
They told me that sounded like some old movie and I said yeah, but the number one fan is going to sing “you’re the one that I want” and we’ll party like it is Rydell high.
Made me feel old because they didn’t catch the references, oh well.
In the midst of the discuss I had to explain to someone that we don’t refer to something as being mid-evil and that they were referring to medieval.
Reminded me about a conversation with them when we discussed lone wolves. I thought about how I almost described myself as “alone wolf” but it would have gone over their head.
I am guilty of doing that too many times and in too many ways. It is born of frustration and though it isn’t nice sometimes it is how I vent.
Can’t get drunk on anything but writing or my liver will shrivel up and die which kind of intrigues me because that would make me heartless and liver less.
Another driver called me brainless so I was intrigued cuz that would leave me with lungs and kidneys which would make me a medical miracle.
I believe in some miracles but only in specific situations when they happen to me and are indisputable.
Got a four day work week coming up which will translate as my trying to fit five days worth of work into four. I don’t want to jinx anything, but I expect to make it happen.
That is how I operate, I set expectations and go for them. It is not how I did things when I was younger, but it fits much of what I do now.
Set a goal and go for it.
Been focused again on who we look for when we are happy, sad, scared or angry.
Who do we want to point at and say is part of our tribe.
Who soothes our soul and makes us feel better. Sometimes it is the same person who makes us crazy.
That is one of the great contradictions of life but if they can make you crazy it is generally because they are capable of soothing and all you need is some fine tuning.
Sometimes when people come to me for that I make a point to check on them multiple times, especially if I don’t hear from them, but not always.
Not because I don’t want to but I get the sense they need a moment and so I try to give them that space.
They’ll find me if they need me.
But I also keep my antennae up so that if I sense I need to reach out sooner I will absolutely do that. I am almost never afraid to communicate, it is sort of a gut based system.
The days seem to move faster than ever before though there are long pauses in which it feels like time crawls.
My weekend is running away from me as fast as possible and so I find myself thinking again about the best way to use my time.
Stuck between here, there and somewhere else the brain slips in and out of gear and I sometimes wonder if I have lost a step.
I tend to think not yet and attribute this feeling to an awareness of how fast time moves.
There is far less runway than there was in 1995 and that probably impacts perspective.
Damn if some of this didn’t happen overnight or at least feel like it did. Maybe that number one fan ought to read or act because we’ll blink and there will be less time than ever.
And so the reflection in the mirror nods their head in acceptance but just as I turn away I wonder if that was acceptance or just a look given to blow me off.
Ain’t life a hoot.