If I had wings today I’d stand on the window ledge and fly away. It’s one of those days when the minutiae of life gets me down and I want to get in the car, drive to the airport, buy a ticket to anywhere and just go. Barring that just find a nice warm hidey hole and hibernate.
Money is truly the root of all evil and the cause of this little pity party. In sheer desperation I’ll go and buy a lottery ticket at lunch, even though the odds are greater that I’ll get hit by a toilet seat falling from a space station, I’ll do it anyway. Sometimes hope is all you’ve got.
I wish I had a clear, single-minded objective for my life like before I die I want to climb Mount Everest. Instead I have a bucket list of random things I’d like to do:
Take a roadtrip through the USA in a 1950 Cadillac to see “The World’s Biggest Stuff”
Ride down Route 66 on the back of a Harley with a hardcore Hells Angel
Watch a show on Broadway
Eat a chilidog in Central Park
A night in trailer park
Chase a twister
See a gorilla, a panda, a koala and a tiger in the wild
Go to the Rio Carnival
Wear a dress from Chanel
Take the Orient Express
And other even more random things. To what purpose? I have no idea, I’d just like to do them. I know this lot centres on the US, but for some reason my thoughts strayed in that direction. Oh. I remember why. Over a year ago I pitched a prize of a roadtrip to see the world’s biggest stuff to a client. At the time they put it on the back burner, but I saw the promotion out yesterday and suffered a strange pang in my chest.
I don’t often miss the big agency drama, but sometimes I feel like I’m missing a limb. Wait a second. It’s not a limb, it’s an Art Director. I miss my Art Directors, Jason, Rhode, Luke, Lynn, Celeste, Ewan, Danie, Wayne, Marais, Steve, Scott, Eserick… I miss the camaraderie, the crazy creative ideas that bounce like ping pong balls and the painful birthing of campaigns. I don’t miss the politics, the backstabbing, the ineptitude, the lousy pay and the even more lousy hours. I miss seeing my promotion on a chocolate bar and knowing I did that.
Man of the House returns today after missing his flight out of tropical paradise. Apparently an Asian lady was accosted in front of him. Turns out she was carrying illegal pharmaceuticals in her purse and was bodily carried screaming out of the terminal. In her bag? Come on. Amazing also how people who were conversing fluently in English a moment before, suddenly lose ability to speak the language. Hopefully he will arrive on time to see Small boy aged 9 play soccer.
Speaking of which, Small boy in question has a different theme at school each week. We’ve had the body, Apartheid and other topical stuff. This week, he’s doing Sadness. The poor child has watched a movie about vivisection and read some of the most heart rending and ghastly stories all week long. Little girls following blind fathers into the snow, falling into lakes and drowning. Seals being bludgeoned to death and so on. Then they get upset with us parents for letting our kids watch age restricted movies with Arnie and Bruce Willis on the basis that they are too violent. I’ll take Arnie beating a robot from the future into submission over baby seals bleeding to death any day of the week. Small boy has had nightmares all week and is traumatised by the horror of mankind. Sadness, my voet. More like psychological terrorism. Maybe next week they’ll do humour and I’ll have to survive a week of knock-knock jokes.
Knock Knock!
Who’s there?
Britney Spears.
Britney Spears who?
Knock Knock
Who’s there?
Oops I did it again.
What did the pan say to the popcorn?
Why are you jumping? It's my ass that burning.
Why didn’t the skeleton cross the road?
He didn’t have the guts.
Right this is just getting silly…
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