Every day I outrun the hordes of people who mistake me for an internet superstar and demand that I share the secret of blogging success with them.
Because I am better, smarter, faster and humbler I effortlessly say the best way to blog is…your way.
But it is never enough, they demand more and so I share 5 Reasons Why Geniuses & Sex Addicts Read My Blog and then I wonder if maybe the reason they love me is because they think I am the heir to the Tim Hortons empire.
It would make sense for the Canadians but the Americans, could they be so silly, it is not like I am the master of Dunkin’ Donuts or something.
Frankie Says Relax
I am wandering through the mall looking for Father’s Day gifts when I see a guy wearing a pair of overalls that aren’t hooked and hair that has frosted tips.
Dude has a shirt that takes me back in time.
“Frankie Says Relax.”
Truth is his whole outfit makes me wonder if he has watched too many John Hughes movies, it is 2014 and the Brat Pack is pushing 50.
I watch him for a moment and wonder what his story is. From across the way I can’t quite decide how old he is or isn’t. Maybe he is a high school kid who is going to an ’80s party or maybe it is something else, doesn’t really matter because now I am lost in 1984.
A couple of friends and I are at a youth group dance but we aren’t out on the floor. We’re standing in a corner watching groups of girls dance together, trying to figure out if we are going to try and join them.
In a few years I’ll be in college and I’ll have ample confidence to approach whomever, whenever and wherever but I am not there yet. I have kissed girls before but haven’t had an official girlfriend yet and I am bit unsure about it all.
Jon tells me that he is desperate for a chance to dance with Becky but he says he won’t go unless I am there because he knows she won’t dance with him alone if her friend Michelle doesn’t have someone to dance with.
In between songs we walk over and Jon asks Becky if we can dance with them. She says yes and by the 3rd time Frankie says we should relax I am ready to bolt because the girls are pointing fingers and laughing at me.
“Jack, you dance like such a spaz.”
That is enough for me, I am gone. The Go-Go’s are singing Our Lips Are Sealed but mine are curled in anger and embarrassment.
Dude wearing the Frankie shirt wanders away and I reconnect with 2014. It is an early dismissal day for my son, got about an hour before I have to go pick him up from school so I make a point to move with purpose and intent.
The night before he told me about some girls who are teasing him. I can’t figure out if they like him or if something else is going on. I don’t like it when he is upset but I want him to figure it out for himself.
I don’t see a reason for me to jump in but the echoes of the girls who laughed at me have reached through the years and something inside my head is rattling. Â It irritates me, there is no reason for them to have free rent inside my melon but I figure I am just concerned about my son so I write it off.
Sure enough the echoes disappear and I am left with my decision to let him handle it. I still feel good about it. I don’t want it to turn into anything but I have confidence in him and I trust that he’ll find a good solution.
A tall brunette walks by me and another memory floats to the surface. I am back in the fraternity and we are all inside dancing but there is no room to do more than sort of sway.
Some of the guys and I are dancing with some girls when one of them tells me that she likes the way I dance. I am sure she is drunk or blind Â but the reason doesn’t matter because she likes me and she proves it.
I feel better about my son.
95 More Reasons Why Geniuses & Sex Addicts Read My Blog
It is early Friday evening of Memorial Day weekend and I am back at the computer. We’re not going away this weekend but I plan on taking the kids to see some movies and to enjoy some barbecue.
A short time ago I participated in a conversation about whether it made sense to blog today or not. I said yes and listed a bunch of reasons why.
But the primary one isn’t because I have readers who aren’t in US and aren’t celebrating a holiday weekend. It is because I love to write and I love to chase down these obscure memories and try to turn them into a story.
I love that feeling I get when I feel like I have successfully bent words to my will.
What about you?