You know my family always used to make fun of my dad cuz he had like one or two homies. and even those guys he saw once or twice every 1-2 years. He was basically dad and thats pretty much it. All my life I had shitloads of friends. A million people knew my name and I knew probably the names of say 1/10 of em but they were still my friends. I would defend my deep friendship for them despite my pops saying things like: those guys aint yer friends.
You know, how much of that was just to spite pops? Now here I am, a pops, pretending like I am all mature all of a sudden and the weird thing is pretending is starting to imitate life and as the two threads converge from the distant points they started at i find a woven knot of bullshit and real shit makes up my life.
I was telling a cat the other day that his essays would be clean and smooth and nice to read if he just cut out the fat.
Lotsa fat people in my life. Lotsa toned steel-armed people too. I find myself shutting up a lot more. Unless of course I be doing a podcast for Chengdu Living and my colleagues ain't got shit to say. I have to pick up the slack so we don't sound like teenagers messing with their first microphone. That one goes out to Charles and Eli.
Feel me? I turn on my little hose in the morning so the water drips like a floating waterfall into my growing-less-stagnant pond. Thats a big deal for me. All morning I have been trying to figure out the best way to smash up corn for the chickens -- I don't have a proper mill. only concrete floors and a brick. so the corn goes flying, I have to sweep it up and give it to the chickens. Sloppy.
Advantage is, the sparrows swoop in and dive bomb my courtyard for kernels that i missed.
I played the sit-up game with dorian and we laughed our asses off. Lotsa fat in my life but he ain't it.
I still greet "friends" i aint seen in a while with hearty slaps on the back because I still believe in friendship as the source of all goodness. But back when my dad was trying to tell me about who it was I was hanging out with, I would run out the house and seek out the fat in the world and chew on it and wonder why it made my tummy hurt. Thats whats changed.
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2 comments:
mortar and pestle. shouldn't be too hard to find, and there are lots o other uses for em anyway...
It's entertaining when the microphone is on and you perform your contrived stand-up comedy routine. This awkward performance and our reaction to it lends the podcast a unique personality. You make a lot of useful contributions though, sharing the knowledge and experience you've gained over a decade in China.
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