Metaphor For Four
By Bryan May
What
happened to all the fine waitresses? It is a standard
tactic of eating establishments to hire all the vixens in
the land for the grand opening, then as the weeks post-open
start passing, the food may stay the same, but the visual
quality diminishes. Customers become comfortable with the
scene and the service and the servings, and they are
supposed to conveniently forget that the ten supermodels
that opened the joint have been replaced by
less-than-bubbly, haggard old maids. Sorry, but if you
haven’t exercised since Clinton was pres, I don’t want you
serving me my strawberry lemonade wearing those shorts. “So
how is this strawberry lemonade? Good?” “Oh yes, it is
very good. Probably our most drank drink here.” “Most
drank drink? You got me sold. Strawberry lem, please.” I
took a sip and it was hot. Not, “not cold enough,” because
like any spoiled American, I like my cold drinks cold. I
never complain, in a restaurant or at any place of
service, but this was unacceptable. I let “not cold enough”
slip all the time, including times when the majority of the
populous would not. I’m talking, the liquid was making
the ice hot. The mug must’ve been fresh out the washing
machine, coupling that with lukewarm lemonade, and
you have ice that is melting but not making anything
colder. The girls got nasty and the strawberry
lemonade got hot? Where are we headed here, guys?
I’m back
up to 100 ounces of water a day. That kind of consumption
is relatively easy when I’m in the zone. In fact, I’d like
to get up to 200 ounces a day, but we’ll see about that.
When you’re awake 20 of the 24 hours, it’s a lot easier to
reach daily quotas than if you’re a nice, well-rested lad or
lass and are only awake in the 15-16 hour range. When we
first met, it was so refreshing. She didn’t care if she
slept. We could be up or out or in until 3am, but she’d
still get up at six to go cycling. I love you for that, and
for so many other reasons. You’ll be all right in this
world. But you never would listen to me and drink more
water!
Ah, magic
birthdays. It’s my little brother’s magic birthday next
year. That’s the time when he’ll be 25 on the 25th
of January, thus, the magic. Nothing too groundbreaking,
special or overly significant, but it made you think, didn’t
it? Made you think back to when you turned 14 on September
14th, or what you may have been doing when you
turned 23 on the 23rd of April. Were you
somewhere far away, celebrating with your significant
other? At home with your family? At work, on a weekend
excursion, at your favorite restaurant? Was it a time of
tragedy or a time of joy? Which reminds me, it was her
magic birthday two Novembers ago. Interesting. I hope
she looks upon that birthday fondly; I think a good time was
had by all.
Ideally,
next year for my bro’s magic bday, he’ll be back in Los
Angeles proper. Last week he moved to San Diego, and when I
called him to wish him the happiest, he was already a few
deep at a bar with his lady and friends. Sounded like fun.
At some point in the next 300 or so days, I should start
planning a magic birthday celebration for him. So we have
magic birthdays, un-birthdays, and half-birthdays. I don’t
know of any other monikers or derivations but those three.
Let me know if you do, I’ll incorporate them at some point.
In case clarification is needed, your un-birthday is
basically every other day of the year that is not your
birthday. That’s kind of the aim of the whole thing-
institute the word “birthday” into every day, and thus,
you’ll have a reason to celebrate. I think being awake and
alive and with hope is reason enough to celebrate, but none
of us really act that way. We get out of bed cranky and
groggy, meander through our day citing the negativity, and
go to sleep frustrated about the day’s shortcomings and
grievances because there’s a good chance tomorrow will be
filled with more of the same. The same shortcomings, and
similar grievances. But the worst are the grievances that
are not similar, the ones you could have never seen coming.
We all know those are the worst and most damaging, so why
can’t we stop sweating the little, insignificants? Just the
way we’re built. And raised. And cultured. Anyway,
half-birthday is pretty obvious. It’s the halfway point
between your last and next birthday. Even if it doesn’t
match up exactly, you can round up or down depending on your
preference, so that it is “exactly” six months until your
next special day. Which special day? All of them,
friends. But first, we have to learn to let them be.
bmay@emarketmakersinc.com
Bryan May
