There’s no hiding it

Today is your day, and all of your stars are out!

Gee, I’m getting older by the minute

How much longer before I begin carrying a white cotton handkerchief and a black plastic comb in my pocket? Will I grow a mustache for some reason other than to amuse myself? When will this all begin, anyway?

By any other name

I think we can all agree that there are good _____s and there are bad _____s. Don’t get me wrong– there are as many types of _____s as there are people in the world, but with a few exceptions, one can usually (and without much hesitation) label any given _____ either friend or foe; rarely both. And it should also be rather obvious (maybe even more so to the Midwesterners among us) that both good and bad _____s have a tendency to enter one’s home just like the rest of us: through the front door. Thus, inviting the good _____s into one’s home by leaving the front door open necessarily presents the possibility of a visit from a bad _____.

It’s a simple principle, and as such is generally understood by anyone who has had the briefest encounter with a _____ of any kind. And while no one appreciates a visit from a bad _____ (well, almost no one– running in circles after certain _____s sometimes leads to a sort of disorientation that can make even the wisest among us forget what we really want, which is unfortunate but all together forgivable), this is generally considered an acceptable risk. Some would even go so far as to say that good _____s are in fact essential to our well-being, and that this is therefor an absolutely necessary risk. Personally, I don’t feel particularly qualified to weigh in on this last point. At least not yet.

I recently had what could in the mildest of terms be called a Bad Experience with a Bad _____. This happens to us all at some point, of course, but trust me– this was a little worse than most. Bad enough, in fact, that I decided that I could (and should) do without _____ of any kind for a very long time, if not forever. I think it likely that many would have come to the same conclusion in my place. I’ll say it again: Bad. I mean, I’ve only now (nearly one year later!) finished replacing my furniture and paying the resulting doctor bills. And I thought I’d never be able to get rid of that smell.

How was it, my life without _____? Well, it was more or less what I’d expected. Maybe a little harder though, and a bit duller, and noticeably darker, quite a lot sadder at times, and in many ways less… alive. It’s true. But still not as bad as my run-in with that one bad _____, that’s for sure.

Still, extracting a _____ leaves you with a _____-shaped hole, and I can’t deny that I became acutely aware of that void. It wasn’t, however, this realization that led me to unlock the front door and lay an unsteady hand on the doorknob. No, it was actually a glimpse I caught through my window of what looked like an unusually good _____. An exceedingly good _____, even, and one that I simply couldn’t bear to leave out in the cold. And so rather than deciding to open that door, I realized that I already had. Not only did the exceedingly good _____ enter, but it brought company- lots of company- and they’ve been staying with me ever since. So far, so good. Interestingly, these _____s all seem to have a certain familiarity and level of comfort with each other that suggests that they’ve known each other for some time, perhaps even that they came to me from the very same source.

What source? Ah, now that, my friend, is a topic for another day.

The puzzlement!

Audience to Narrator: “You know what I think? I think that you, Narrator- not I- are in fact the Audience.”

Narrator to Audience: “But… I… but…”

Prepared for the past

Oh no no no, you’re not getting me this time. Don’t even think about it, all right?

I won’t try to deny that I was completely (really: completely) caught off guard last time. And the time before that. And the time before that, and yes, fine, every single time. There, I said it. I dressed for warm, but it was scorching hot. I made room for biggish, but it was positively immense. I prepared for a touch peckish, but it was ravenously hungry. Starving, even.

I was ready for one of them, but it was you.

Being the type who would like to think that he learns from his mistakes (which becomes a necessity when you’re the type who is continuously forced to admit that you make lots of mistakes), I’ve told myself that this time would be different. I know where I went wrong before, but I’ve done some serious thinking (you should’ve seen it- my brow still aches from all of the furrowing), and I’ve resolved to get it right this time. I’ve thought about that last run-in, and I’m ready for it now.

Only… this time isn’t going to be like the last time, is it? And as everything is now new (you heard about that, right?), even my most successful efforts to be prepared for the last time will leave me perpetually unprepared for the present time, won’t they? Aw, shoot. It would appear that I’m just going to have to stop being so overwhelmed by the fact that I’m constantly being overwhelmed these days.

Though now that I think about it, that’s not such a bad fate, really.

Everything is new

Well I certainly didn’t see this coming. There had been no shortage of chance meetings before, but I can’t remember the last time any of them- even the most striking among them- became anything more than a footnote to a page that ultimately grew very difficult to distinguish from the page that had preceded it.

But about one week ago (all dates and times have since become approximate, you see), there was a break of the very best kind, the kind that accompanies the creation of something new, and today ceases to be a continuation of yesterday. Why do I only mention this now, so long after the fact? Well because I’ve been busy, of course.

Thanks may not be needed, and they may not even make sense. But I am certain that I feel a very real gratitude toward the source of this change, and even more certain that I will express this gratitude with everything I have.

There are many, many new pages to be written. I can’t wait to write them, and I can’t wait to read them.

Never thought I’d see the day

At long last, all of these words have been joined by music. Thank you for all of your help.

But but but

I don’t want to break my bad habits.

Concerning Enormous Worms with Teeth, or: One Can Always Hope

Wow, can you believe that title? Amazingly, it once had some sort of context to call its own, insomuch as it related to a jumble of words for which I, unfortunately, was responsible. That’s right, there was a story, and in this story there were indeed Enormous Worms with Teeth. And yes, these worms had a thing or two to teach us about ourselves.

How does one pull off such a tale, you ask? As it turns out, I have absolutely no idea. I could show you evidence to prove my ignorance on this point, but it’s all been destroyed, thankfully. Really, the only thing that could have made it worse would have been some sort of heavy-handed allegory.

(That’s my way of admitting that there was a great deal of heavy-handed allegory.)

After much hand-wringing and head-scratching (picture both of those activities taking place at once, because that’s how it actually went down), I was eventually forced to admit that there was only one small part of the whole mess worth salvaging, and that’s precisely what appears in the nice bold type a few picas north of this period.

Ah well. Perhaps there’s something to be learned from this whole experience. And you know, maybe that‘s the story I should be telling. Come to think of it, I happen to know the perfect narrators for the job.