Something Of A Disadvantage

People often ask me, "Doc, where do you get your brilliant ideas for your articles from?" Well, truth be told, people don't ask that often and when they did, it was just one person, and it was more along the lines of "Where do you get this shit?"

Well, I'll tell you.

All of the blogs I read are written by people with facinating lives. They have interesting jobs. They are surrounded by interesting people and they travel to far flung places that abound in art and culture. They have engaging hobbies and diverse interests. They leed complex lives filled with nuance and depth.

I do not.

I have a humdrum life, a painfully boring job, no hobbies, and I don't ever move more than ten minutes worth of drive time from my front door. So I am at something of a disadvantage. Sure I could tell you about being a stay-at-home dad and the endless cycle of laundry, dishes, and cleaning. I could explain how at the end of an evening at the bakery I wrap and reduce the doughnuts and sweep up the bread crumbs. I could go into great detail about the traffic patterns and where the really short lights are on the six streets I travel. But by the second sentence your mind would have wandered to a scab that needs picking or a zit that needs popped. Yes, it is that dull.

I could try and spice it up, but no amount of bullshit could possibly make this interesting. It would be as riveting as roto-tiller instructions. Nude dancing girls and elephants on pogo sticks wouldn't help. My life revolves around hearth and home, and is briefly punctuated by short intermissions of selling pastries to fat people and pregnant women. Accountants and hermits see more action than I do.

So I make shit up. I've got to. You people have a life that would make a good movie, or at least an off-Broadway play. Mine would look like the security camera footage of a slow ATM.

For example: I could spin a yarn of our recent plumbing leak that left the basement smelling like a wet dog, or tell you a good drunk joke.

Let's go with the joke.

It is 2 am and the experienced cop is showing his rookie partner how to round up the drunks at closing time at the local bar. They sit in the parking lot and sip their coffee until one patron staggers out to his car. This guy is just hammered. He can't hardly stand, and has to close one eye to find the right key to fit his car. He jabs at the door handle a few times before swinging it wide and falls into the front seat with a grunt. "Let's get him," says the experienced cop and they head over before the drunk manages to start his car. The poor drunk is had, but not to the point that he doesn't understand what's going on and he is polite and cooperative in a slurry, smiling sort of way. The rookie gives him the breath-o-meter and it reads 0.00. "Try it again," says the experienced cop. So the rookie does, but he gets the same reading. "The machine is busted," says the experienced cop, "we'll have to take him down town." So they do, and the drunk sings dirty limmericks the whole way. They put him on the machine at the station and sure enough, it reads 0.00. "We can't charge him with this kind of reading," says the rookie, "Can you get a ride home sir?" "No need, I can drive. I haven't had a drink all night," he responds in a steady, sober voice as he stands up straight,"I got picked to be this evening's 'Designated Decoy'. You fellows have a good night now, ya hear." and walks out.

I'm always looking forward to your next post, as it has got to be better than mine.

Doc

P.S.- I do not now, nor have I ever, endorsed drunken driving or lying to the law. But I understand how that can happen.
P.S.S.- I put this post up this morning and Flannery called this afternoon. "Are you okay?" she asked in a concerned tone. "Yeah, why?" "I read your blog and you sounded so depressed!" No, far from it. I have a wonderful life that I wouldn't trade for anything, it just makes for boring blog fodder, that's all.