60 days and ….


That countdown clock. I love it and worse: I fear it. I fear it for lots of reasons, the biggest and most trenchantly terrifying reason is that I see it as a menu with items falling away from it, off of it, into my lap like soup. One day soon, there will be nothing at all coming from the kitchen, and I, like the guy who gets spilled on, will have all the attention.

I can practically read your thoughts, the way you were so relieved I avoided the hobo metaphor, the one in the restaurant – “How did he get past the hostess?” – who makes you feel slightly awful about your nice evening out. Even the soup thing is awkward. Shlemiel, shlamazl, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, but what can I do? TREE has turned into a HAPPENING. A thing beyond control.

My friend Mark (a world-class shlemiel) has come to look like that aforementioned hobo, minus the winter coat and some very tough years. He’s been working so hard setting us all up for success. He’s got a list, a remarkable and strange list working. Names and dates of people with esoteric and strange skill-sets are only a small constituance of the constitution of his list; people who are already craning their necks to look at the fellow with soup in his lap; places to be, things to acquire, to do, to remember. He stays up nights, forgets to shave mornings, and has lost what little baby-weight he had left (he looks younger than he is and I’m careful to forget his age so it always sounds sincere when I tease him for being young); he looks derelict. He’s the producer and I think he wants to turn me into a Neitzchean Superman.

The costume looks like someone spilled something down the front. Thanks, Mark.

Anyway… We’re all excited and a little ashamed to be doing something this fun. I’m scared but that’s not unusual. I get scared a lot. 60 days and counting. That’s some hot soup.

When I was a child, my mother used to have my siblings and I talk about our fears. Not so that she could talk us out if them because, I guess she knew this way back then, just telling someone that you’re afraid can give you courage.

So for the sake of becoming less afraid, I’d like to talk to you about it. If you have any questions then consider this an invitation to become a part of my family. Ask me anything. Be a part of this. You have no idea how grateful I would be.



Posted on July 20, 2011, in Tree. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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