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No Rico, Just Suave

Posted by Mick on January 23, 2010 – 12:21 am

I love making up stories.

I think that deep in my heart I’ve always loved making up stories.  It’s only recently that I’ve given myself the freedom to do it.  To be more specific, I spent many years convincing myself that it was something I couldn’t do, or shouldn’t do.  I really can’t remember anymore how it started, or why it started, but it did.

It don’t matter anyhow.  It is what it is, and I am what I am now.  Everything that happened in the past, that’s just part of the story about how I got here.  Most of it isn’t particularly interesting, but some of it is.  I might even tell you some of it.  Not today.  Today is a day for other stories.  Stories about making up stories?  But of course!

I got off work early today.  It’s rare that I have an afternoon off, so I wanted to make the most of it.  Hungry, I headed over to a friend’s home, grabbed him and made a beeline for Torchy’s Tacos.  I want to move next door to this place so I can eat there every day.  Come for the taco, stay for the Nookie!

What’s a nookie?  A ball of chocolate chip cookie dough that’s been battered and deep fried.  I’m not sure if I can adequately describe the taste sensation, but I’ll try.  Imagine that you caught an angel, and you squeezed it until it dripped sweet sweet angel juice onto your tongue.  It was like that.  But fried.

My friend and I headed back to his place.  He’s been going through some rough times lately, and he’s responding to the hard times by examining his life and making sweeping changes to rid himself of poisonous traits.  He’s opening his veins back up to the creative process and immersing himself in his art again.  I’m watching this man go through a process that is nothing less than spiritual transfusion.  It is inspiring.

Of course you know I have to help, right?

We’re sitting there, talking, as we are wont to do, and he brings up an idea he had.  A seed.  A premise, if you will.  This is the part where I choose not to tell you what the idea was, because it’s not my idea and that would just be wrong.  You can whine all you want, but rest assured, later on when you have an idea you want to share with me you’ll feel so much better knowing I would never betray your trust.  And you’ll be confident, because you’ll remember this moment.  Yes, this one right now.

Not this one.  That moment has passed.  This is another moment.  A far less memorable moment.

We now return you to our story, already in progress.  The idea is cool.  Very cool.  So what the hell, I decide we need to process this idea.  We worked on some story ideas with it for about an hour.  We made enough progress on the idea to confirm, I believe, that the idea is worth an investment of time.  The pictures I’m seeing in my head must be filmed.

My friend – ok, I’m sick of calling him my friend, so I’m going to revert to my tried and true fake name, Billy Bob – Billy Bob is an actor.  He’s a visual artist as well, drawing, digital rendering and manipulation, that sort of stuff.  He’s not a writer by nature, so he needed a bit of assistance in the how.  I’m just learning the mechanics myself, but my soul know how to do this, and I learn fast anyway, so I’m all about helping out.  As I’m helping him flex some new creative muscles, I’m seeing how much I enjoy the helping part of this.  As I’m introducing him to the process I’ve been using to develop my own ideas, I’m seeing how my training and experience as an Instructor is serving me well in this new venture.  I like being a facilitator, someone who can help others bring their ideas into form.  It’s gratifying on many different levels.  It feeds one of my beasts, the beast that needs to guide.  I’m trying real hard to be the Shepherd.

Maybe my Masters Degree in Psychology isn’t going to go to waste after all.  That’s a bit of a relief.

As the Herzog project continues, Tara and I watched his film Heart of Glass tonight.  Fascinating.  I’m going to digest it overnight.  Come back tomorrow and we’ll discuss it.  Hypnotism will make an appearance.  Unicycles will not.

I’m tired now, and I should get some sleep because we’re going to reconnect with an old friend tomorrow.  To be precise, I’m going to reconnect, Tara is going to meet for the first time.  And we’re both socially awkward.  This should go well.  Luckily, Rachel remembers me from when I was even more socially awkward.  In comparison, I’m positively suave now.

That’s when I realized, those expensive products weren’t better than Suave.  They just cost more.

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  1. 1. Robert Lambert Said:

    Infinite thanks for this day also, which spawned both amazing tacos and revisiting an idea flung out of my brain in a fit of Tourettes. You know, like they do. For the record, you are officially allowed to mention me by name if the urge strikes or the story pertains. So there.


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