The Problem with Comfort

What follows, here in this post, is The Best Thing I’ve Ever written. If I make an untimely departure from this earth– this will be my lasting legacy to this planet. I used to write stuff like this more frequently; sometimes for other people to read, sometimes just for me. But again, this is my best one ever. And it’s called:  The Problem With Comfort.

The background to what prompted it: I have an amazing friend named Melissa. One of a small handful of Most Amazing People I’ve Ever Met:  incredibly artistic; genius intelligence; insight into the world and human nature beyond most anybody I’ve ever met.  Her brain operates at light-speed.  She’s really, truly, incredible– the cream of the crop, humanitywise.  And she’s not just the only one:  her whole family is like that.  She has 6 or 7 brothers and sisters; all of them are incredibly gifted geniuses, but a bit wacky.  They’re kind of like the Royal Tenenbaums, or also kind of like the Glass family (if you’ve read “Franny and Zooey” by J.D. Salinger).  Anyway, put her and me together in a conversation, and interesting things result.

So this little essay– the best one I think I’ve ever written– was something I wrote to her a few years ago.  She was on the verge of a major life change.  She was in a situation where she was feeling comfortable for the first time in her life… but had an earth-shattering opportunity that ignited her every sense, but was unproven, risky and (everybody else thought) completely crazy.  So at the time I wrote this, she was completely torn up about whether to go ahead with it, or not.  We explored it very thoroughly in phone conversations; after one such conversation, I was inspired and wrote this to her in one shot. But it was stuff that had been bouncing around in my head for years.  I just needed something to catalyze it, and make me collect it in one place, and write it down.  And that is what follows after the jump.

I’ve saved this and, over the years, sent it to friends when I thought they could use it. I’ve never previously published it publicly because  I’ve always thought it is “special” and I didn’t want it to get endlessly forwarded around the internet. (I had a vision of my grandmother sending it back to me.) But I’ve decided to publish it now, and I hope that whoever finds this will get something out of it.

Enough of my explaining. Enjoy.

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Sweeping up…

It’s time to kill the old Friendster account that has sat there untouched for years… it’s cropping up with undesirable results when Googling my name.

Truth be told, the only reason I didn’t kill it a while ago is it contained some very nice “testimonials” from friends. Which were the precursors to Myspace “comments” and Facebook “wall posts.”

So that they won’t be lost for good… here are the testimonials I received. They are delightful! The first four in blue are my favorites…

From friend Allison on 2/8/04:

You dashing, magnetic, kinetic, wise and quick-witted lad. Must you always radiate  such an all-powerful tractor beam of charm… Yes, I think you must.

From old friend Steve on 10/6/03:

M is perhaps the only person I know to have successfully transformed a trailer on a remote island into a temporary discotheque with the use of a flashlight and bunch of empty beer cans tied to the ceiling. We are all mere students in M’s School of Rock!

From Humuhumu on 7/27/03:

Surely a modern-day answer to Elvis, the Sasquatch and Angelyne all in one freaky package, this sexy beast is destined to be famous for being famous. Reports of “M Sightings” will be shared in hushed tones. The people will marvel at how he never really aged, and great myths will rise up surrounding his mysterious origins. Long after he dies, M Impostors will revel in the gasps of shocked, unsuspecting fools as they offer brief glimpses of a long-lost legend. When I say “I knew him when…” my grandchildren will roll their eyes and refill my bourbon.


From Laura on 5/20/03:

a barrel of monkeys? HA! when it comes to fun, all you need is *one* gorilla–provided that gorilla just so happens to be ‘gorilla x, gorilla to the stars’ (aka ‘the liberace of gorillas’)…

but seriously: what else can i say about my dear friend, M? well, in addition to being one hell of a sharp dresser, he’s also *the* guy you want watching your back if you’re ever… oh, i dunno… say, the only straight people in the rowdiest gay bar on bourbon street, ’roundabout sunrise, when, say, a fistfight breaks out between two incredibly hot, drunk, and (of course) scantily clad SISTERS sitting next to you, and the 350-lb. tranny bouncer starts hasslin’ YOU.

i guess what i’m really trying to say is that that M is one hell of a stand-up guy, not to mention the coolest gorilla impersonator — EVER.

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“If your party is anything like it was last year, I’ll be dancing on top of a bar with sunglasses on watching the sun rise over the desert with no pants on.”

That would be one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten. Courtesy of dear, dear friend Jewel of Denial.

It’s in reference to a rather legendary room party I have come to host every year at the annual Burlesque Hall of Fame Pageant in Las Vegas. I’m part of the production team; it’s my favorite weekend of the entire year and it is NEXT WEEKEND!!

True story. In which the t-shirt comes through again.

A few weeks ago, I posted a story about my t-shirt saving me from Jehovah’s witnesses. The t-shirt has this design screenprinted on it:

screenprinted on the t-shirt

This is screenprinted on the t-shirt.

The other day, I happened to be wearing the shirt. I went into a Chipotle restaurant and ordered a burrito.

The total, with tax, came to $6.66.

The guy behind the counter pointed at my shirt and said “whoooooooa!”

I demanded his soul on the spot.