Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about not jumping, laughter, and slipperys.

How's it goin' everyone? It's July 1st...an important day in the storied history of a little website called Writing.com, colloquially and lovingly referred to as "WDC". And why is that, might you ask? Well, it's the first day of two beloved contests, the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  (you can still sign up if you're interested ) and the "30 Day Image Prompt Contest - CLOSED" . 7/1 also means that "King's Landing updating "  is now over (big ups for raising over something like 25 million gift points, you crazy Thrones-ers!), which explains that giant collective sigh of relief and crumpling into desk chairs from exhaustion heard 'round the community at approximately 12:03am last night. But most importantly, on this day 14 (14!!) years ago, I joined Stories.Com and posted my first few poems online. And life hasn't been the same since. So everyone raise your cupcakes in a toast...not to me, but to all you people who've made this place what it is and worth stickin' around for. Cheers!

Now, on with the rest of today's entry, for real...

Well, look at that...it's two people jumping enjoying a perfect sunset on the beach. Somehow, between the time I first saw this image and now, it morphed in my head into two girls jumping with their silhouettes captured, but I'm clearly mistaken, and that ruined pretty much the direction I was gonna take. Damn.

You might look at this and think that these lucky individuals are showing praise to an undisclosed religion...one that bestows exuberance upon the end of daylight in a 24-hour cycle. They want their specific deity to know that they, in fact, are in so much awe of the oncoming moon that all they can do is raise their arms as a gesture of salutation for all the warmth and light the sun has provided them on this glorious vacationy day. And normally, you wouldn't be wrong...but since I'm ignorantly unaware of any religion that openly does this, and this being my blog, well, yeah, you're wrong.

What this is is a shot of the YMCA traveling team tryouts, Southern California division. These events are held in different regions throughout the US, looking to find that perfect quartet that goes from stadium to arena around the country...and these are the people you'll see at sporting events that come out and dance when the PA system busts out the "YMCA"   during a break in the action.

These dance-letes train long and hard, hoping for a shot on the national stage. Their goal? To be shown in bumper clips on SportsCenter as they go to commercial. Only the best and the brightest make it...the losers just go home and are relegated to hoping they'll get their chance at a Double-A baseball game or a pee-wee hockey tournament. But the winners? Well, I think we can all agree...there really are no winners here.

"'A day without laughter is a day wasted.' -Charlie Chaplin. What are your thoughts on this subject? If you want to write something funny or nonsensical then go right ahead."

True dat...my man Charlie Chaplin knows what's up! Look, I know it's hard sometimes...if anyone knows that, it's me. But sometimes ya just gotta look at shit and laugh. If you don't, you'll drive yourself crazy letting every little thing bug the everlovin' outta ya.

Laughter's all around...ya just gotta know where to look for it and how to appreciate it (and nobody say nothin' about "Maybe you should follow your own advice, huh?"). Even in the darkest or sorriest of places, there's humor. It's healthy. It's cathartic. It shows you're a living, breathing human being with a soul...you're not a robot! Nobody actively wants to spend their days being miserable (again, bite your tongues).

Take a load off, even for fifteen minutes. Put everything else in your mind aside. If you're reading this, I know you have access to the internet then, and that means there are approximately 3.085 billion worlds of laughter available to you. But the key thing to remember isn't that laughter is external...it comes from inside. That's why it's said that when someone does something funny, they make you laugh. Nobody's laughing for you (unless you're just that idiot that doesn't laugh when someone says they're laughing with you, not at you, which could be the falsest statement this side of "I am not a crook."  ). You provide the physical outcome or summary of the action in front of you. It's your choice, whether you wallow in perceived sadness or decide to make a little funny outta whatever's goin' on.

Choose laughter. I think that's the kind of years of your life that's being added when President Lincoln alluded to something about that. And if Lincoln said it, it's gotta be true...I saw it on the interwebs.

"What is the most foolish thing you have ever done at work?"

Whoooo boy, have I done some foolish things while under the auspices of an employer before. Cinn and I were talking about this a little while back. Remember what I said in the last segment of this entry about laughter? Sometimes you have to seek it by breaking up the doldrums of a workday.

My first real, living-on-your-own, bona fide "adult job" was at a regional sporting goods chain in our local malls, Koenig Sporting Goods. I was promoted to Assistant Manager and was sent to a different location...with a bunch of good people, who shared my penchant for prankery.

One of the guys had an older brother that used to work for the company, and he introduced us to the slippery. It was basically a move where you were doing something normal and turned it into an accident. Physical acting at a comedic level. His demonstration of it consisted of grabbing a sale ad from the rack of the Rite-Aid across from us, and reading it while he walked directly into the three-sided mall directory sign and falling over. And people would stop and ask him if he was ok or if he needed help, and we were just doubling over because we knew it was on purpose! And knowing this guy, he probably said some really crazy shit on top of it.

So one day, we were setting up displays of Columbia ski jackets...the really nice ones that all the chicks were into before North Face fleece jackets were stylish. We had racks full of them, but we also had to display some up high. "Up high" meant standing on a ladder and using a pole with a hook at the end to hang them on the wall, probably ten feet high if the ladder was 6'. And with that, being a daredevilish 23-year-old, I abandoned all good sense and performed my signature slippery.

I "misjudged" my step on the ladder, while balancing a weighty ski jacket on a lengthy pole, and "fell" into a four-sided rack of Columbia jackets. With customers in the store, and in front of two other employees assisting me. It was hilarious...see, the other point of a slippery was to also see how much damage you could do in such a way that it wasn't entirely your fault for whatever happened. I might've wiped out three racks, but I busted a lot of hangers and bent a couple of rack extensions. A high-quality slippery.

Could I have been seriously hurt? Maybe. Was it dumb? Only if it got me in trouble. Foolish? Hells yeah!! It was way better than my first night there as the guy in charge, when I grabbed a $125 golf club driver and swung it like a pro...and my backswing caught a rack, putting a giant nick in the club face (and earning a modicum of respect from my associates). Damaged it out, the store got credit, no harm no foul . Coincidentally the company went out of business a few months later. I'd like to think I had nothing to do with that.

You can say I've taken mad breaks in the last year or so (gotta preserve my sanity a li'l) from actively contributing anything to WDC, but I'm back for at least the next thirty days...mainly because Charlie ~ convinced me to do the "30 Day Image Prompt Contest - CLOSED" . So y'all are stuck with me. Here's to thirty days and maybe hopefully at least another 14 more years and then some.

"C'mon, put my picture on the wall for all to see."
Lyrics.  

And it ain't like I've been takin' time off to rest my pretty little broken noggin, nuh-uh. I started posting up more old "poetry" to complete another notebook, "Ribmeat Of The Family Tree" . If I remember correctly, it falls in between the two other notebooks I've already posted ("Slurred Emotions"  and "Cabin Fever" ), and there's some decent items in there...like "Everybody knows; you always start with scissors." . So far most of what I posted came from about ten years ago, so I almost feel like putting this out in full is like a 10th Anniversary Tour of the Ribmeat. I know at one point in time a lot of these items were in my port, which is part of why I'm doing this now. It's also, like I said, a bridge. I get amazed once in awhile just by the sheer amount of stuff I've written over the years...and I'm still in a state of near-disbelief that for 14 years WDC has been a huge part of my life. I may not do a lot actively, but I'm here, and I'm kinda sorta relevant, and that means so much more to me than I can even describe. Again, thank you WDC, The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress , and thank you all who've been a part of my journey here. x lots and lots.

You know what provides laughter? Kids. And I can say that unfailingly to myself because I don't have any. But a lot of you who read this do, and some of you will smile along with the hilarious tweets parents write   about their kids. Almost makes me wanna be a parent. Almost. Any applicants out there that wanna make me a dad of their forevers?

And for laughter's (and for fuck's) sake already, these people should be dead  . No really...no good could possibly come of any of that. But somehow I think they've all survived, and have kickass stories to tell. Who am I to judge?

And finally, do you know what Charlie ~ , Cinn , and Elle - on hiatus have in common? I'll give you a minute...if you need it. *drums fingers annoyingly* Alright...time's up! It's "Dirty Poetry - CLOSED" . Fuckin' check it out...stick a needle in your arm, smoke a J, curse like a god damn sailor fiendin'...if you can't find your words right for most poetry contests and/or expositions, this is where you need to be. Drop your gritty, low-down, stank-ass real life shit up in that forum. Because you're welcome there. Who appreciates you? They appreciate you. Word.

So alright...I've done cleared out this one-of-thirty thing (my mental note, not yours). Mega huge thanks so far for all the love pointed at me for today...time for me to catch up and give some thanks, because writing this stuff kinda wears me out. Y'all the best a li'l blog guy with stupid silly poems in his pocket could ever, forever ever, could ask for. Peace, don't let it touch the ground, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!