A real fool that gets paid to talk to strangers in the street.

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Monday, April 4, 2011

Lasers and Rooftops


All my life, wherever I’ve been, I’ve been waiting to go somewhere else that I couldn’t describe, until now.  In my dreams at night I always saw two places in my head, a room with lights and lasers shining all around, and the view from atop of a tall hill.  That view as it turns out is the sprawling massive grid of Los Angeles.  I wanted to tap-dance and drop presents over that grid like Saint Mr. Bo Jangles.

I know in my dreams that my heart and my brain were living in the same house, just in different rooms.  My conscience was trapped somewhere in that house. It knocked many walls down until that house was just one big space for my heart and brain to shake hands and start working together.

They left that house with a bag of giggles and a stopwatch that could only go for 15 minutes.  I’ve since then thrown that stopwatch away and I keep those giggles in my breast pocket.  My heart and brain ran together though.  They ran to college in upstate NY, Florida, Minnesota, Brooklyn and Manhattan.  They gift-wrapped their arms around as many people and things they could.

You see,  I spent the most of my youth observing and thinking.  I saw things differently, literally.  I was cross-eyed, still am.

When I built up enough courage and trust in myself to start talking to people around age 13, I never stopped.  I wanted to interact with the world within the parameters of how I saw it and I wanted to see how it saw me.

We don’t create dreams, someone else does.  Whatever that someone is, needs those things to happen.  Whether it is someone who loves to fix cars, or someone who sells insurance.  It’s not really about the task or the act.  I’ve realized that it’s about the message behind the act.  The act is just a vessel for the message.  All of our messages put together make up the purpose or the show behind the curtain we call life.

My message is this:

This is a silly place and I’m a silly guy.  Being that it’s so silly, it makes it innocent, because it’s so innocent, that makes it fun.  It’s so fun in fact that you should smile about it.  I’m going to dance in front of you and make as many attempts to make you smile, until you do.  If I do that, then you’ve received my text message.  Hit me back.  I live in West Hollywood.  Just look for the man tap-dancing on top of houses with lasers and lights shining everywhere.

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