I can’t figure Schmutzie out. My daughter’s best friend is named Pooks (iunno. don’t even ask.) and I generally like his take on things, so I asked him what I should say about someone that I admire like crazy but can’t seem to get a solid bead on, who is very witty and well-written and has stellar taste in shoes. Pooks said to me, sage thing that he is, “You’re making this way too hard. Just tell her you think she’s boss as fuck.” I wanted to say, “Pooks, you are a wise motherfucker,” but –as hard as it is to believe– even I have a (shakily-drawn, shallow) line, so I said, “Thank you for your insight, Pooks. Are you staying for dinner?”
Pee ess….Schmutzie is boss as fuck, you got that?
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Look, sometimes you ask for things, not knowing what you’ll really get. But you’re bold and you ask and no matter what turns up, at least you’re guaranteed a surprise, at least you you showed the temerity to open your mouth and speak.
That’s kind of what I did with this birthday carnival for myself. I asked people to compose something. It was awkward, so awkward, because e-mail after e-mail had all these lovely things about me when I was expecting a story or poem or song about who-knows-what. Some of them were so kind that I cringed when I posted them, sure that someone out there was rolling their eyes, going all, “WHAT A VAIN, VAIIIIIN JACKASS.” But I did it anyway, because they were so generous as to honor my request, and because one of my personal philosophies says to honor what is written. And then it struck me that I’m willing to hear bad things about myself, so I should be willing to hear good, as well. I’ve been robbing myself of that for a long time.
If you’re new around here, I’d like to say this to you:
Hello. I’m Jett. My life is a lot of things; it is overwhelming, fulfilling, stuffed to the seams, comfortable, colorful, taxing….but above and beyond any of those things, it’s fun. It’s a grand parade shot through with mournful alleys. I’ll try to sing so that the best of all of it manages to bounce off the clouds and rain delight onto your head.
If you’re old around here, I’d like to say this to you:
Hi there. You are so dear to me. I hope I’ve soaked your head in delight more times than you are able to count.
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The carnival’s over, kids. Grab hands and walk home together. I hope you won a prize. Give a word of greeting before you go.
17 worked it out »