The Celebrity Opinion Conundrum

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If someone complains about celebrities by saying, “They are actors and athletes! What do I care about their opinion?”

“That’s funny because I’m thinking the exact same thing about YOUR opinion,” might be my response.

Voicing your displeasure with celebrities who give their own opinions is a strange form of hypocrisy.
Whatever job you’re doing is just a job and occupation never nullifies a point of view.
You’ll have to be honest about it anyway, as it seems like we only hear people say this sort of thing when they disagree with the expressed opinion and almost never when they don’t.

Intolerably Titled Blog Post

 

The police asked me to describe the assailant.

“Visible fart” was all I could think of to say to describe him – and the police took note of it and left, evidently with such a suspect already in mind.

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“I lost my sanity,” I said. The police searched for days but could find no proof that I ever owned it.

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I was experimenting with Instagram. Under ‘recommended beauty filters,’ the #1 recommendation: “avoid the public.”

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I called the Poison Control Center out of instinct. It turns out that finding out that a close friend, co-worker, or family member has overdosed on stupid isn’t a valid reason to call them.

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There are 7,647,106,854 living people on this earth with you now. 318,750 people were born today – so far. 132,000 people have died already today. It’s impossible to imagine that one million people die each week. Yet, here we are, arguing over semicolons, sports affiliations, and whether it’s appropriate to wear striped shirts or drink white wine with pork.

 

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They tried cutting his leg off with a chainsaw, his head with a guillotine, and his hands with a butcher knife. All three cutting tools shattered in the attempt. He was a new superhero: The Indivisible Man.

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Stolen joke: “He needs to build a bridge so he can get over himself.”

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“X, it looks like you padded your work history.” The H.R. Manager of Trinity Music Publishing informed me. “We can’t hire you.”

“What gave it away?” I asked.

“It’s not so much that you claimed to have been Lead Air Guitarist for Journey. It’s that everyone knows there were no musicians in that band, real or imaginary.”

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It turns out that the phrase, “Stick a fork in it” is not literal. To the guys on the other softball team, my apologies. You sure didn’t sound like winners, though

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If you believe that everything happens for a reason, can you please explain your fashion choices? From my point of view, it looks like the definition of either ‘random’ or ‘lost and found box.’

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Overheard Strange Conversation: “…sir, I don’t care who you are, the Lactation Area isn’t for ‘interested observers.’ ”

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In lieu of spending a night in Branson last night after seeing Reza the Illusionist, I reserved a place in Monett, Missouri. We chose a Tex-Mex place to eat, one which was deceptively large inside. We had to circle the establishment more than once to dart into a recently emptied parking spot. Even compared to the eateries we left behind in Branson, we ate like kings. Though the idea of a night in Monett sounds like a premise to a joke, it turned out to be a fortuitous and interesting place to stay. Downtown seemed to be dipped in another time. It was obvious to me that someone was diligently attempting to breathe new life into its streets. Perhaps some of the charm derived from the lengthening shadows as daylight diminished. It’s a place I would love to spend a few mornings walking the pre-dawn streets. Returning to the hotel, we were astonished to find that the wi-fi supported our FireTV. I had packed it on a whim. We watched the shirtless comedian Bert Kreisher, laughing at his stupidity and insight. And so it came to pass that I pondered that I would somehow remember spending the night in Monett, for delicate and inexplicable reasons which sound a little odd to anyone listening.

 

A Day

On my return walk home, heading south, not too far from the intersection of Emma and Butterfield Coach Road, I had reached the point in Il Divo’s song “Passera” when the Valkyries and angels began to lift the singers impossibly higher in their harmony. To my left, the high tree-filled mountainside was palely illuminated by an unseen light. Atop the hill stood a single solitary tower, its light blinking impossibly red. Above me, a billowy blanket of clouds was rolling in, barely overlapping the moon. The moon, in response, glowed with a corona of diffused rainbow colors. Slightly below, Orion’s belt and Betelgeuse vividly shone through. Venus and Sirius lurked on the horizon, brighter than normal. As I peered upward, a meteorite streaked down. And another. Even as I lost track of my footing, I laughed out loud, a lone cackle in the pre-dawn nothingness. I wasn’t expecting meteorites this morning and their arrival brought unexpected laughter. I laughed even harder, remembering the old cliché that the most dangerous laugh emanates from someone alone, in the night.

There are times when you know the day cannot possibly be improved, no matter who or what fills the hours of it. Perhaps I’m wrong, though, and a mystery as of yet not fully developed will greet me as the sun rises.

For now, though, I’m going to look out the window and listen to my cat tell me his story in a language I can’t understand, full of purrs and growls.

A Brush With a Celebrity

Five years ago, I was visiting Miami. The taxi dropped me on Collins Avenue. There were people everywhere, which shouldn’t have surprised me. Being unfamiliar with the streets, I couldn’t easily find a good eatery. There certainly weren’t any Subway sandwich shops and the thought of how delectable one would be motivated me to keep walking in the heat.

I turned south and found myself in a throng of people, all of whom were slowly moving. Up ahead, I could see a sandwich shop sign above all the people on the street. Twenty minutes later, I entered the crowded shop and felt the air conditioning on my face.

Ahead of me in line, I could see a group of people standing tightly together instead of in the line. A woman was in the center of the entourage. I could see her talking animatedly with her group. As I inched closer, I realized that I recognized her voice: it was Tina Turner and several of her musicians and dancers.

She turned back to the person making the orders. She asked for 4 turkey clubs, a hero, a couple of pastramis on rye, and 5 vegetarian sandwiches. Because the food preparer was probably a little starstruck, Tina had to repeat herself a few times.

The preparer leaned over the sneeze-guard and said something I couldn’t quite hear.

Tina, in frustration, leaned toward the food preparer and shouted, “We don’t need another hero!”

Get Plenty of Fiber?

One morning, I woke up later than normal. I had taken my wife Dawn to the doctor the evening before and we’d then stopped by to see some friends.

I heard an odd thudding from somewhere. Weirdly, Dawn arose earlier than I had.

I followed the sound through the house and looked into the smaller bathroom.

Dawn was kneeling on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, holding a small hammer. The lid to the toilet was raised. As I watched, she swung the small hammer and hit the toilet bowl. Then again and again.

“Stop!” I hollered. “What are you doing?” I thought she might have lost her mind.

Dawn turned her head toward me, obviously aggravated. “The doctor told me to be sure to check for hard stools this morning.”

Dog!

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I got a dog last Sunday and on the way home, it jumped out of the car, barking and running fast. Someone passing by yelled, “You need to go to the dentist!” as he slowly drove be me.

“The dentist?” I asked him. “Why?”

Without hesitating, he shouted back, “Cause you’re missing a canine!”

A New Cat

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My neighbor Matt adopted a new cat last Saturday. He’d always had dogs but wanted a cat for his wife. After a few days, he came over and reluctantly asked me to visit and play with it to see if I could determine what was wrong with it.

When I went inside Matt’s house, I could see the cat’s eyes peering at me from under the sofa, hiding as far under it as possible.

“Here, kitty kitty,” I murmured to it. The cat suspiciously poked its head out and then scampered stealthily around the sofa and table to stare at me through slitted eyes. Each time I raised my arm, the cat retreated slightly, watching every movement in the room.

This went on for about five minutes.

Matt asked me, “X, what do you think is wrong with my cat?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “He’s just purranoid.”

Just a Moment

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Because I skipped walking the day before, I loaded an unintentionally melancholy playlist on my phone instead of listening to TED or anything noteworthy. The hour was too early and my enthusiasm was too high but the darkness was beautiful. I walked the width of Springdale, down Emma, and a circuitous path toward nowhere in particular.

Someone I once knew too well called yesterday and told me that his days were now numbered and that he was tired of the pain and mediocre tenor of life. Like these things always do, it left a bruise on me that wasn’t readily apparent.

So, I left for a long walk this dark morning.

I found everything I wasn’t looking for.

I walked so far that I texted my wife to see if she was up. 30 minutes later, I tried Uber to discover that no one wanted to drive around Springdale at that hour. Another 30 passed and I decided that I would wait for Uber’s system to either get me a ride or kick me off the system. A driver pinged me in less than 5 seconds. My legs were numb at that point, so I leaned against the utility pole on the street and watched the sun come up above the skyline somewhere near the roofline of AQ Chicken.

 

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As I sat in the back seat of the stranger’s car, I was surprised by how far I had walked, mile after mile. The raccoons had greeted me across from the Apollo Theater, and someone’s tiny tuxedo kitten ran and jumped on my side as I warmly rubbed it and whispered to it. I left him purring underneath the front bumper of his owner’s truck. A solitary worker moved in the darkened interior of Neal’s Cafe. Several empty storefronts looked out upon me as I traversed Emma.

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In the distant geography beyond, I knew that the person who called me yesterday was awake and restless, shuffling through his memories and attempting to reconcile his time.

There are no easy answers and no direct path to peace. But, there is time enough to walk and to look out upon the unknowable expanse of people and places around us.

 

If It Pleases the Court…

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Office Depot has a WWE / WWF corner…

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“Fruit of the loon” is the best way I’ve ever heard to describe someone who is as inexplicable as his or her parents.

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2 lessons I’ve learned from Oregonians:

“Never ride a horse in the living room.”

“Only shut the fridge door if you head isn’t in it.”

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The first time I sing “Happy Thursday” to the melody of “Happy Birthday,” it’s funny. The 40th time, though, Identifies those with impulse control.

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I give you the bird.

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I think the studio should do two versions of the movie biopic about Queen’s Freddie Mercury: one normal version, and another in which he substitutes yodeling for the normal lyrics of all the big hits. The studio could record all the angry and confused moviegoers and release THAT footage as another movie. You’re welcome, Hollywood.

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…Instead of saying ” Hello ” or ” Good Morning, ” I used one of my old favorites and told 40 people ” DiGiorno ! ” to see how many understood what I was saying. Conclusion: the pizza company will undoubtedly experience a sales spike thanks to my subliminal nonsense.

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“Sauerkraut is what you eat when you need a reminder that all your gastrointestinal parts have a role to play. Sauerkraut is the bassoon of the bowels.” – X

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After an hour of listening to the manager drone on and on about trivial buzzwords, I realized why we all were required to wear safety gear in the conference room. The sign above the manager’s head indicated: ” Extremely High Doltage – Danger of Elocution. ”

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My enthusiasm was so diminished that I had only had enough energy for one shenanigan.

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I asked Marvel to include a new superhero in the Avengers: The Yodeler. Can you imagine the strange looks from surprised villains as he enters a room, yodeling at the top of his lungs? Plus, if the character is killed off, it’s a given that he doesn’t have any friends who will mourn his untimely death.

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The Salutation Enthusiasm Observation:

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If you note a differing level of enthusiasm from someone as they initially encounter other people, it generally follows that it is an accurate reflection of their unstated yet observable opinion and/or social ranking of each.

*The greater your urge to nitpick the nuances of this concept, the more likely it is that the truth of it scrapes too close to something you’ve long suspected to be true. Observable variances in enthusiasm are opinions in motion. Naysaying notwithstanding, this generalization rarely bends to scrutiny.