Me, Myself, and I

Stephen Harper

The title is, as with most things I come up with, not original. Where I got it from was Joan Armatrading. She is a wonderful singer/song writer I have been tracking with for multiple years whom no one has ever heard of. All that to say, let’s be clear here; What I have to write is about me, for me, and mostly to reflect well on me. Even when you say bad stuff about yourself people think it self deprecating and transparent and therefore it reflects well on yourself. What they very often fail to realize is that the bad stuff is true. Truer than most.

I’ve been fretting for days. A young woman called here wanting to bring in a handful of kids to see the radio station. This is horrible on several fronts the first of which is how …… underwhelming the facilities are. There’s like a computer that plays stuff and this cable takes it out to the transmitter. Viola’! The second front is my previous sentence. That’s pretty much how I’ll come off to these kids. Yeah, I’m a regular Mr. Rogers. “This is the neighborhood, these people do stuff, there’s some cookies, here I am punching my time card. Come back again.” Kids scare me. Truthfully, people in general scare me. Y’know, they look at you and, and they say stuff and they want you to respond. My name is Stephen and I am an introvert. I was social for three months but slipped into avoidance last week and double-locked all my doors. And let me tell ya it’s no picnic putting bolt locks on your car doors. Which explains the plywood in my car windows. Anyway, most people don’t know that about me. I stand in the back and greet people. I didn’t say I dislike people I just am retarded in social situations. Especially with people I don’t know. Little people exist to make me sweat. So they are to arrive this afternoon and I’m freaked. I am beseeching the gods …… yeah, in desperation I wouldn’t mind Zeus striking out with some lighting and whatnot. Vishnu getting all impersonal all over their tiny tushies. Part of that prayer is please, please, please have Bill stay here with me. Have him with no other appointments. Have Bill exist to meet my needs.

While I am pacing the phone rings and it’s Linda telling me that Tom Myashiro just called from an ambulance. Amy just went down with a seizure. They thought they were past the complications from her brain tumors. The righteous in me rears and I focus. My heart prays, my countenance slips. Within the hour Bill arrives and I swear to all that is holy you will never believe what was first out of my mouth. “Dude, are you going to be here this afternoon?” after my fears dissipate I remember something …… what was that? Oh yeah ………. Oh …. Yeah. One can never imagine how diminished a person can feel when he FOLLOWS that first sentence with, “….. ahhh, yeah, I just remembered ….. “. A notch below a child molester. Hitler and I sharing drinks.

The truth just plain sucks. All this to benefit what? I have been with God as long as I can remember. When I look back I sometimes see regression. When I behave this badly I wonder. I’ve been telling people the past few years that the word, grace, is looming larger that ever in my life. On days such as this it is a freakin’ exploding zeppelin crashing down as I scatter and stumble in between the burning bits. Me, Myself, I. “Oh, the humanity”. Another stolen line.

*note: Amy is home from the hospital now and okay. Continue praying.