| Believe it or not
but there’s a lot that goes into writing this column. Not everyone is up to the challenge.
I have to open up deep, dark, secret parts of my psyche
and drop them down in front of you. Did you hear that thud? That was one right there.
Fortunately I have coping mechanisms that help get me
through each day.
My day begins with my first cup of
coffee. My wife says it’s more like a science experiment. I think she’s
referring to the fact that I have a precise formula I follow to make it “just
right” each time. Two spoons of sugar, two spoons of creamer (the good kind, of
course), one and a half spoons of chocolate syrup (again, the good kind), and then I fill
up the stainless steel travel mug within one and a half inches from the top. This leaves
just enough room for a little milk to top it off. (I think I’m starting to see her
point).
It’s
important to start the day right when you have the responsibility
of creating this brilliant column. As a matter of fact I
insist on only using that stainless steel mug. The first
reason is that it holds more than a normal coffee cup. The
second reason… it looks like some high-tech container
that alien embryos might be stored cryogenically inside
of. (Now you’re starting to see why I need coffee).
But, this is all due to the fact that I have have such vast
responsibilities and frankly, because you people stress
me out.. It reminds me of when I was milk-monitor in grade
school. My powers are absolute.
With coffee number one in hand I
head to the office. My think box. I log on to the computer and check mail.
I must be getting old. I remember
when “checking the mail” had only one meaning… going to the front door,
opening it, sticking your hand inside the metal box and pulling out paper envelopes and
letters from Ed McMahon. Now, it means something different to many people. It’s a
shame too because sometimes you get lucky and get a really attractive
mail-carrier-lady-person like mine who has nice legs. (“mine” - like I hold the
pink-slip on her).
Anyway, I
digress…
I check the “mail” in
roughly this order: first, Email from friends first, mail from friends second, Email
mailings I subscribe to third, physical magazines I subscribe to fourth, and then any mail
marked “urgent” last.
I like getting mail. I like Email
especially. The Internet allows me a great way to reclusively socialize from the comfort
of my office chair, drinking my coffee, sitting in my underwe…
I’ve said too much.
I also like writing these columns
for you every month. It's really fun to say things like that even though I don't write
these every month. It’s a great way to communicate without having to get
dressed up (or dressed) or having to set that cryogenic container down (coffee mug). |
It makes me feel
important. It even makes me seem… mysterious. “So, what do you do Dan?”
“I…
write… I do other things too.”
“Wow, that’s
very important, even a little mysterious.”
I like that.
On to the other things…
I have a friend, we’ll call him
“Hector” (that’s not his real name). Hector likes to give me ideas about
what to write, products to add to the store, pictures and paintings to create. Now, it's
easy to come up with the greatest poster design since Andy's Campbell Soup Cans (at least "think
in your own mind that you've come up with a great design"). It's an entirely
different matter to be the one who has to create such things.
You see, when
Hector (not his real name, remember?) says things like:
“Hey! You could do this really great ball of fire
that jumps off the page, and has this 3-D effect that when
people look at it they can't believe it's not real!”
I tend to turn a deaf ear to him because you just know that
that can’t possibly work in spite of how grand
it sounds.
I mean, it's weirder than those paintings of Jesus or Elvis
where the eyes seem to follow you around.
But, I humor him and smile. He
probably thinks he's the driving force behind my artistic visions. I also think he likes
to tell people that he would be my “phone a friend” guy if I ever made it on
that television game show.
He isn't and he wouldn’t.
(I wonder what the liability issues
would be for a poster that actually burned the tops of people's heads as they walked by?) Hmmmm...
(Have you noticed that I write
parenthetically way too much?)
I
admit it. I do. It’s like typing what I think. I like
writing this way. I like having a friend whose name I won’t
tell you. In fact, there's no reason on Sting's green Earth
for me not to tell you. Yet, it all makes me seem
like I have stuff going on that's just too important
or mysterious to tell you about. Like those guys that write
to Penthouse Magazine, or so I hear.
Having a friend that is named
“Hector” is no big deal. But, telling you upfront that it’s not his real
name makes me seem like I have “people" that you shouldn’t know about. Hey,
I can have people. I can... like Hector (as you recall—that’s not his real
name).
Nope,
I wouldn’t tell you his name. Not even if you begged
me or large sums of money were involved. It would ruin the
image you have of me - coffee, parentheses and all.
I like my coffee. I like writing
parenthetically. I like them almost as much as referring to AJay as “Hector.” |
