Friday, April 17, 2009
Today I am a 30 year old human guy. It’s quite a surprising milestone for me, mostly because The Man Upstairs has spent the past three decades trying to assassinate me with a single-mindedness that is both scary and flattering. Face it, God — you’re a flop at killing me. Better luck next time, ding-dong!
Just joshing, you big Knucklehead!
So, how am I spending this first day of the rest of my life? Let me paint a picture for you: it is a rainy day in London. I am eating some discount garlic bread as an old Greek repairman fixes a leaky pipe over my pantry that is connected to the upstairs toilet. You should hear him swear at the stubborn thing in the language of Plato! Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be in that toilet pipe’s shoes.
Things are going well.
My foul-mouthed Greek brother probably has a lot of sage advice for me. Just think of all the wonderful things this Noble Savage has learned over the course of his long, fruitful life as a toilet man. I’d even be willing to ask him for guidance if the language barrier weren’t such a massive, massive headache. No. It’s probably best to leave this inscrutable blue-collar Zeus alone and get on with my work. . . .
Now that I’ve safely escaped my 20s in a bulletproof helicopter, I feel it’s my responsibility to do what this Greek man can’t do: pass wisdom down to the younger generation. True, I’ve made a lot of huge-ass mistakes over the past decade (e.g. pretending to like Jeff Buckley, eating that diarrhea-inducing veggie burger in Dublin, etc.), but I’d like to think they are nicely balanced by an equal number of motherfuckingly good decisions (e.g. seeing The Bucket List).
I guess if I have a message for children and tweens, it is this: Jeff Buckley stinks the most. And don’t eat that weird veggie burger unless you want to spend the entirety of your flight back to Canada in the toilet of a budget airliner. On the other hand, The Bucket List is a shimmering jewel of a film that’s readily available on DVD (or as a BitTorrent — but DON’T tell the Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman actors I told you). The choice is yours.
So, let's see: Jeff Buckley, veggie burger, film . . . Jesus Christ — I only did three things in my 20s. And two of them were bad. Shit.
Oh well. My 30s are going to be a wild ride, and I am totally screaming because I want to go faster. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m stepping out for a Dionysian night on the town with a certain Mediterranean repairman. Look out, London ladies! With his rough worker’s hands and my 70 w.p.m. typing skills at least one of us is bound to have intercourse before sunrise!