On The Reg
Published in Blog.
Could 2011 be the year I get my shit together and game starts poppin’ on the reg?
The next three or four days are going to be a non-stop trill-a-thon of epic proportions. Stanhope live? O-o-oh fuck. Check. Jaunt to Cincy? Sure, why not? Meeting with new friends? Youbetcha. At least one late-late nighter with Road Dogs gettin’ rowdy to some Rob Lumbard? It seems pretty goddamn likely. And that’s not to mention how straight up bonkers this week has already been the positivity front.
Was talkin’ to my man Shoeshine Will at the YMCA today and we came to an agreeance that every day you wake up is generally a pretty tight day. He was tellin’ me that I’m too young to be going around saying things like that, and I said that my age doesn’t make it any less The Truth. Dude said his brother had a kidney taken out this week or some shit and we stewed on the idea that it could be lights out at any given moment. Just like that (snaps fingers) and it’s lights out forever.
Forever.
Guess that’s the point here: yeah, every day you have all your limbs is a great one, and every day you don’t have to be hooked up to a machine to stay alive is infinitely solid, but it’s really what you do with it from there that goes to show how much you respect the trillocity of life. Yes, I know, I’m here putting off being productive by letting some thoughts roll on the Internet, but I still think that despite my general attraction toward being lazy and unproductive I’m at least remotely aware that life has the potential to become pretty tight.
I think the answer to that initial question is a big ol’ sack of “I have absolutely no idea.” All I can do is try to not fuck up and hope for the best. That probably goes for any of us, really. There’s a lotta shit that’s out of our control and there are a lot of factors that can easily put a damper on the party… But once you wake up, do a limb-check and count that they’re all there & take that first deep gasp of air in the morning (you might yawn… not me, that’s my body subconsciously trying to devour the universe whole), it’s up to you what happens next. Not in the sense that you can be anything you want to be, but just that you can be choose whether or not the next step is going to suck or not. Now, I’m not trying to become Superman. I’m just tryin’ to become super, man. (That sounded a lot funnier in my head with a standup bass line playin while a beatnik recited the words.)
Really, I’m just thankful that there are rad moments like what’s coming up here. And I’m also thankful that there are reminders like the old dude at the Y. That’s all I’m really gettin’ at… I should have probably just written that to start with. Sorry.