A little under 42 hours ago I composed the definitive journal entry. It was smart, witty, insightful, offensive, provocative; everything great writing should be. My computer, obviously, decided it was so good that it should never be read but should instead be consumed. In short, my computer ate my journal entry.
Not being one to deprive the world of great literature, I decided to recreate said entry. Unfortunately, I have a brain like Swiss cheese. So what you are reading now is my near-best effort at reconstructing greatness. Honestly, it will probably be like watching Pauly Shore and Anna Nicole Smith perform Macbeth.
Now that I’ve insulted a dead person and a dead career, let’s begin. (Keep in mind, this was written Tuesday.)
My Brain, take 2
I made my favorite drive today, as I do most Tuesdays: to Huntsville and back for a project meeting. As I drove I thought, “What is my schedule for the rest of the day?” The following stream of consciousness resulted from that thought.
Go by the barn and talk with my Dad, pick up the kids at school, drop them off at their respective friend’s houses, back to the office to goof off… I mean work for an hour, pick up the kids, go to Pizza Hut for Kids Eat Free Night, over eat (those cinnamon sticks are just wrong!), roll and/or waddle to the car, take my daughter to dance, go to the AWPT meeting, meet with Ryan to work on “Rich Young Ruler” for Sunday, go home & sleep!
Dance. I’ll need something to read. I just finished Chasing the Dime. I’ll start a new book. I should take Harry Potter 5 (I know that’s not the title). I want to read that again before the movie comes out this summer. Wait, dance class is at a Baptist church. Southern Baptist. That could cause conflict. I hate confrontation. “I can’t believe you’re reading that,” she says. “Hmph,” I reply looking at the front cover. She continues, “Those books are full of evil! Witchcraft, wizardry, magic! It’s satanic!” Now, I look up. “Last week I brought Chasing the Dime by Michael Connelly. It is about a man who gets a prostitute’s old phone number and then starts investigating her disappearance. It’s filled with graphic violence, murder, sex for money, and foul language. The week before that, I brought a book about a serial rapist/murderer. The ‘f’ word was in every third paragraph. You can imagine given the subject what sort of subject matter it contained. The Harry Potter books are about good versus evil, the power of love, and the struggles of facing adolescence. They contain no sex, mild violence, and the worst word I remember reading is ‘Bloody Hell.’ Which one do you think is worse? Really?” (I’m much meaner and more aggressive in my mind.) “But the Harry Potter books are written for children!” she protests. “I know isn’t it great that they get to read about how powerful Love is, about the importance of friends.” At this point she knows she’s lost but can’t help throwing out, “You should just read the “Left Behind” books.”
This imaginary conversation would have, of course, never take place. If it even started it would’ve ended after her second comment. At that point I would sits and try to read while ignoring her judgmental glare. All the while knowing she’s never read the books. She only has that opinion because she was told to by her pastor or James Dobson or Pat Robertson.
I should mention at this point that I have several friends and family who are Southern Baptist. I love each one of them. I have in fact never known any of them to be judgmental, condescending, or hateful.
I should stop now before I piss off everyone who reads this.
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