The Statue

So you’re wondering where have I been? Well, screw off; I’ve been far too busy. So sorry if that offends all of my reader.  (And, where the hell have you been, Larry? I know you’re there, you moron. ) Here’s the thing, dear Larry, it turns out that my pessimism is growing much worse, though that’s hard to conceive, I know. This surge of blackened negativity keeps me from this blog. I have also stopped making mental notes regarding the locations of various fire hydrants. And yet, the anger is welling in me even as I sit here pissing and moaning about pissing and moaning. My cynicism, usually a welcome chocolate syrup to the milk of my mundane life, isn’t much fun anymore. Kind of depressing, frankly. My assholiness is turning me into a real asshole. I’ve not yet shot a man in Reno just to watch him die, but I pushed over a toddler just to watch him cry.  Why this hostility, you may ask? Can’t say. Perhaps it is because I have to get my poor ass up a good 30 minutes earlier to catch the early bus. So, in addition to being ass-tired, I also have to suffer with no more Rich in my life. (Rich’s ultimate piece of gospel: “Sometimes you’re the pigeon, and sometimes you’re the statue. Brilliant Ugly Man. He will be missed.) Perhaps it is the changing seasons. Perhaps it’s you. Yeah, it’s probably you. And I’m referring to you, Larry, you jerk.

But I need something to change. Need the enema of life to blow free the detritus that has clogged my mind.  Need the Great Chimney Sweep to cleanse the soot of my tired self. I need more Dick Van Dyke, less Dick Cheney. Need more sandwiches, less green beans. Need more sunshine, less Dick Cheney. And, as I have the delightful talent of alienating every jerk off who ruins my day with their presence (Larry), where might I look to gain this serenity? Well, it needs to come from somewhere because I ain’t doing it.

And then it comes. God bless us all, it comes. And it comes in the form of the wheel chair, can you believe it? A wheel chair of all silly things. My savior today was the medical device utilized in transporting cripples. This is the sandwich to my Cheney. Serenity wheels up its handicapped self.

So, here’s the story. As I walk in to the hospital ev’ry day, there is a nice, ordered line of wheel chairs near the entrance. This way, when patrons come to take advantage of the valet service the hospital offers, those who require a wheel chair have one readily accessible. Never paid them much mind, really. Only today, there’s this woman raising all hell that there isn’t a wheel chair available that will fit her, uh, ample girth. Turns out, she needs a double wide and won’t be happy until she gets it. And she’s really pissed. Like a rhino kicked in the horn. I’m afraid she’ll stampede! (Though, this isn’t really a possibility since there is no way she could summon enough energy to do so.) But, being large, she has taken charge and demands the double wide. So barreling around the corner comes some poor fool pushing the wide seated chair. By the time he approaches her, I have already passed them on my walk; so I stop, and turn around just in time to see the pusher accidentally cram the wheel chair into LargeandinCharge’s shins. I hear her howl and for the moment, I smile.

Why, you wonder, does this pick me up? Why I get enjoyment from the misfortune of others, in making juvenile jokes?  Well, you take what you can get. And you seek happiness out, wherever you may find it!