A new view of second chances.

I’ve seen the light. Well, not particularly. I guess I’ve seen lights…but they aren’t very life changing. But this particular light is currently making my blog.

I’m a pretty self-aware person. I like to think that I have a pretty good grasp on the types of people that I get along with and the types of people that I do not. I very rarely have large life changing epiphanies, and to be quite honest, this isn’t one. But it still deserves to be out to the masses. This is big enough for me to want to share.

I recently read “High Fidelity” by Nick Hornby. This was a popular book from the mid nineties that I had never read, and I’m quite aware that it was made into a movie with that pseudo-homo John Cusack and I had not seen that movie either. Now there wasn’t anything within the content of High Fidelity that I found groundbreaking. It was—however—a great book. Now this in and of itself is not a plug for anybody to read the book. The thing that blew my mind was this: I hate Nick Hornby.

In 2006 I was at the lake with one of my exes. I had decided to bring along Bret Easton Ellis’s “American Psycho” to read on the beach. Those four days of reading were the most captivating and oddly mystifying of my vacation reading career. If you don’t believe me, then consider this: the next time you’re out on the beach, look at the guy next to you. Now picture him reading a book about horrendously violent murders while having a hard on…that was me.

Now after finishing the book, I was informed by my ex-box that we’d be spending another 3 days at the lake. This I was not prepared for. I didn’t have any extra clothes, not much money, and most importantly, nothing to read on the beach while I drank myself into a stupor. So I went out and about looking for a book to read. The bookstores in the lakeside shops were pretty standard. Something with Fabio on the cover, or Shopaholic goes dancing. But somewhere amidst the crap I found a book called A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby. I saw that he was the author of High Fidelity, a book I’ve heard a lot about, and decided to buy it.

I finished A Long Way Down, but let me tell you this. It may have been written by an autistic four year old. The book was complete crap. I can’t believe that the publisher received my $14.95 for that crap. It was the most understated piece of literary shit that I’ve ever read.

Enter my epiphany.

I wouldn’t say that High Fidelity was the best book I’ve ever read. It may make the top 20, but it’s certainly not number 1. (See: Glamorama) But A Long Way Down does rank amongst my 5 least favorite books.

How can one man produce what is essentially something great. And something that is complete garbage? I looked within myself to answer.

I am quite fabulous. This I know, and you do too. So in most cases, waking up and brushing my teeth is so fantastic that it ranks amongst my top moments in anybody’s life. Regardless, I had to look at specific moments in my life where people that have never met me have seen odd sides of me. Although I can be known as the “Author of High Fidelity”, what were the situations where people saw me as the “Author of A Long Way Down”? Dig? Here’s a few moments.

2005 à I drunkenly argue with a fat girl at a party. Puke on the deck, shit on the lawn, and wipe my ass on a Cadillac. All within about 30 minutes of each other. Anybody that bears witness to this display must think that I’m pretty retarded and have no control over anything my body takes in or out. I also worked at K-mart for 2 weeks…that alone would make people draw strange conclusions.

2006 à After a window is broken on a car and a laundry basket full of clothes is thrown into the street, I set them ablaze. A few friends and I watch. All that is left in the morning is a few melted buttons and a giant black stain. Anybody that sees this probably thinks that I’m a felon and a pyromaniac. I am both, but do not partake in either on a regular basis.

2007 à During an insane beer pong winning streak (12 games) I am completely wasted and shit talking any challengers. Most of the people at the party do not know who I am. Although I am getting laughs for the most of the night, I start getting cocky. My teammate and I are doing trick shots against these two girls. Both of which are cute, but very young. I am doing shots blindfolded, left-handed, and my psyche outs pretty much consist of me dropping my shorts.
After an incredible comeback, I am defeated. I take this opportunity to slap my remaining beers at my competitors, soaking both women in warm, stale beer. The crowd is not amused and although I refuse to apologize and leave the party, I can’t imagine my actions are referred to as classy.

2008 à Any combination of the words “drunk”, “naked”, “pass out”, and “open apartment windows” should do the trick.

So go on and think about what people have seen you at your worst, or even your least normal. And think of all the people you’ve only seen once and didn’t think were very decent people. Perhaps you just saw their “A Long Way Down” when they have a “High Fidelity” sitting on their shelf.

How Profound,
Peace.