Monday, April 24, 2006

FUCK YOU APRIL

It's 77 degrees outside, a bit overcast and there is a cool breeze. In other words its a perfect day. It's the kind of day we dream about all year round. Whether it's 100 degrees outside and we can't breathe from the humidity or its 19 degrees and we are scraping off an inch of ice from our windshields and we have to be to work in 15 minutes. Or perhaps you are walking to work in February and the wind is piercing right through you and all you can do is tense up, like that's going to help. Sometimes on a cold Winters day I spend my day preparing for the perfect day by cleaning out my tackle box. I also clean up my fishing reels and obsessively put them in order from best to worst.(this kind of behavior reminds me of a friend named Fredy Flesch) A lot of people do stupid shit like this with whatever their hobby or passion is, depending on your opinion of the difference between a hobby and a passion.

When I was a kid, I was walking home from school one day at about 4:30 pm and not because I had just left a FFA meeting. It was brutally cold outside but it was a sunny day and clear. It must have been 10 degrees outside. Along with cursing at my teacher I was cursing at the sun. I remember watching the cars drive by and thinking that one day I would be 30 and I would be driving one of those cars.

It took along time(but not long enough) from that point to become 21 and then I blinked my eye and now I'm 35. And now I have a car to avoid most of the winters brutalility. And now I drink a toast to you perfect day. But I was wrong. I don't need you. So take your perfection and shove it strait up your ass. I don't need to be reminded of my mortality. I feel it. I'll take the heat, the cold, and even the funnel cakes, I ment funnel clouds. I will spend the rest of my life routing for the Steelers in the Superbowl, decorating Christmas trees, and driving 735 miles to spend my "time" with my family and friends. A perfect day for me now consists of me sitting on a couch in my friends house, unable to move because this stupid old body doesn't function like it once did. Or perhaps i will spend the day kissing my wife... I will carry around my action figures in a plastic bag regardless of where I live, whether it be in a bush or a two bedroom apartment or once again in a house. You will never dictate a perfect day to me again. You have know idea what a perfect day is. But your Friend Corky does. And those are the days I will embrace for the rest of my life.

2 comments:

The Apologist said...

Now that I know about it, Freddy Flesh needs to go in the Corktionary.

owen said...

By your command Doug.