New morning. They come around every 24 hours or so, I mean it depends when you start counting. There’s an old Stephen Wright joke, he goes to this restaurant and they’re closed he says “The sign says open twenty four hours” the guy says “Yeah, not in a row.”
I think there are probably a zillion little polly anna quotes about new mornings and promise of a new day and all that sort of thing. It’s a bit like Christmas or softball; if you work up the sentiment you get all melancholy about the lack of luster or, as in the case of softball, how come grown-ups won’t play hard ball? I’m just saying some new mornings you just want to ask “Are you a threat or a promise?”
Heh. I have a really high IQ, seriously, high. I don’t ever mention it because, well, it’s seven something AM and I’m sitting in my parents attic typing on a social networking site. Ok, the parents attic business was for dramatic effect, it’s true, but not as, I don’t know, sad? Yeah, sad, as it sounds. I mean it’s sad but not in the way it implies. I’m just saying I don’t want to boast of my “potential” which is all an IQ is, I mean it tests pattern recognition to see how much shit you could potentially figure out, while I’m squandering it on used Stephen wright jokes.
Again, a little too dramatic. I did spend half of yesterday writing shit that I just wound up deleting. Mean, petty, funny shit aimed at a group that would, as the comedian put it, have me as a member. I think Americans have forgotten how to do the democratic process without polarizing. See, the deal is, ideally, everyone gets a say so, and if you have a persuasive argument, a pay off or nudie pictures for extortion you woo the other voters to your side. It seems to be more like dodgeball these days; everyone stands in a line on one side or the other and tries to bean the other side with a red rubber ball. No offense intended towards fans of the sport.
I joined this advocacy group on facebook. I’m going to unjoin. I mean I found myself editing my perspective, no, that’s a good thing, but it begs the question; do I need this shit? Apparently advocacy for vaping involves linking to misinformation and then the conspiracy camp calls the author a tool of big pharma, the self-proclaimed intelligentsia calls the author a dumbass, someone makes a mission statement and someone says the FDA are mean.
So I have enough civic conscious to put up a token struggle for the poor son of a bitch who comes next, but, honestly, I’m just sucking nicotine juice from a machine. It’s not heroic, it’s kind of cool that it’s kept me off analog cigerettes so long, but hell, I was just sucking smoke from burning tobacco. Not really the defining aspect of my life. I mean I did other shit while I was smoking, I do other shit while I’m vaping, and if I really wanted to fight injustice and tyranny this is not the place I’d start. I think I posted the pig fucker rant here. That’s sort of where I’d end on this topic.
I did point out that these were the good old days and maybe it’d be best to enjoy them and blow up bridges when you get to them (or, possibly, not need to blow up any bridges at all, maybe hold off until they are at least in sight). I don’t know. I pretty much do what I want to do with very little interference. If I had to give one piece of advice, in general, to everyone, it’d be ‘Act as though what you’re doing is absolutely correct and that you have permission from whoever might be in charge to do it. If you can’t perhaps you shouldn’t be doing it.’ It pretty much covers all bases, rights, freedom, sexuality (as in confident is sexy). It’s not like I don’t anticipate a little interference, but I don’t build the activity around it, and, often as not, over the course of 54 trips around the sun, I didn’t need the preparation.
Vapers are starting to remind me of the seahag; she wanted so very much to be a persecuted minority that she would announce loudly what a persecuted minority she was in venues that might possibly contain someone who might not mind persecuting her a little. For the most part, and much to her chagrin, she gets to do what she wants with very little interference. Though, to her credit, I suppose, she’s still in there pitching, let’s all clap our hands kids and maybe tinker-hag will get persecuted.
This may be a thing guitarists don’t understand, but it’s awkward playing a musical instrument in front of someone. I mean A saxophone. Playing it for a crowd is easy, for one person not so much. You have this big machine in your mouth and it takes both your hands to play and you’re used to making eye contact, and, well, it’s a little weird. That’s sort of how I feel about vaping in public. I mean I don’t wanna, I really don’t care if anyone has that “right” or not, though I’m pretty dang sure the vapor isn’t toxic, not going out at any rate.
You ever been in an elevator where everyone is wearing too much cologne and/or perfume and you can barely breathe because of the stank of cat piss (um, hate to be a buzzkill but that’s what your cheap ass liter of aftershave smells like, old spiced cat piss. Just because you have a liter doesn’t mean you need to use a liter.)? It’d be cool if people stopped doing that. It doesn’t matter whether it’s toxic or not, it’s unpleasant. For some reason it’s ok to tell someone that vapor is poisoning others but not ok to tell someone that they are wearing too much cat piss. Wait, no, apparently the vaping community thinks it’s not ok … I just, it’s that, well, I do what I want with very little interference. Of course part of that is that I don’t wear too much cat piss (I wear just enough cat piss) and I try to respect other peoples air space.
Yeah, ok, so it’s outdated hippie idealism, but I manage to get away with it, I do what I want and don’t hurt anybody over it and I swagger like it’s all groovy and so it is all groovy.
It stops being groovy once you start bitching. Of all the things I would risk the death of groovy over, blowing smoke out of a machine doesn’t even make the first five pages. Maybe I’ll change my mind if anyone ever tells me “hey, you can’t do that!” I can count the number of times that’s happened to me on one hand and if you rule out being, um, waved away from the back entrance, I can’t think of a single instance off the top of my head. No, I’m not constantly looking to slip in the back door, but, you know, sometimes a fellow feels all pokey and … so sue me, I can take a hint when it slaps me. Hell, what’s the point in even saying “…for better and for worse …” and pledging a troth if you can’t come in the service entrance from time to time. Yeah, no, just trying to be funny, it’s not working out as well as I had hoped.
I’m tired of listening to me bitch (yeah, I might not read these things, but the words form in my head right before the fingers bang them out). Be nice to one another and lay off the cat piss.
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