Sometimes I picture myself in situations in which I don’t belong, situations that require a level of knowledge or skill that I don’t possess. Situations, in short, that would leave me flat on my face, and pretty much everyone hating me.
It isn’t that I’m wishing to be in such predicaments. I’m actually fantasizing about the horror, similar in a way to the brief and exhilarating moment of panic I feel when standing on top of a tall building, or at the railing of a bridge. If I were to lose my mind for just three seconds, I think, I could be plummeting to certain death.
These are insane thoughts, I realize, but they’re followed by a delicious sense of relief. It’s that terrible possibility butting right up against a much better reality — and experiencing the distinction under my skin — that makes the exercise worthwhile.
Besides, no one knows I’m thinking them.
I’m not talking about mortal danger here. I’m talking about something far worse: the potential for utter and inescapable humiliation. The risk of being exposed as a fraud.
* * * * *
When world leaders gather for an international summit, I imagine being introduced as the keynote speaker. In the daydream, no one questions my presence at the event, so I must be who they think I am. But as I rise and stride to the microphone, I’m turned back into the real me, the one who doesn’t know what he’s doing there or even what the meeting is all about. After I take my place on the podium, there’s a pause for a few moments, which the audience assumes I’m using to add drama to what I’m about to say. But then, what would I say? Could I get away with something like the essays I wrote in high school English classes, the ones that helped me escape the trap I’d set for myself by not reading the assigned novel? Would some abstract, flamboyantly colorless generalizations do the trick? It’s possible, but I just remembered something else: the speech is supposed to be in Russian.
If I’m watching a movie and one of the characters needs to undergo a major, complicated, life-and-death operation and they have to call in the only person on Earth who has ever successfully performed it on live human subjects, I insert myself into the story. I’m the surgeon. I’m known throughout the medical world for this groundbreaking, high-risk, experimental procedure in which the patient’s internal organs all have to be removed, turned inside-out, polished, and then replaced. The top doctors from the best research hospitals are all there in the operating room, waiting to witness my technique and to take careful notes. I arrive, scrubbed and gowned, and wearing those bizarre eyeglasses with the lenses on top of lenses, so that I resemble a cartoon character whose eyes are popping out. It’s truly a ridiculous look, especially for someone who spent that many years in school, and this somehow adds to the scene’s allure. A team of nurses and assistants await my instructions as they prepare for the thirty-seven-hour operation. And then, of course, I turn back into me, the guy who gets nauseous carving a pumpkin. As I look around the room, I can see that people are expecting me to do something unbelievable, but really, I don’t know what it could be. So I resort to the only thing I can think of in that situation. I pretend to get some mysterious spinal cord disease that also adversely affects my ability to stay awake, and I fall to the floor.
A lot of people are good at playing musical instruments. So many, in fact, that we have whole mobs of them performing anonymously in orchestras. As individuals they get almost no attention, and probably not much money, either. But once in a while, and for reasons I can’t fathom, someone gets singled out for universal acclaim. This person is declared a genius, a prodigy, gifted and brilliant. People who know nothing about music use these words, mostly because it makes it sound as though they know something about music. Often the subject of this attention is a pianist. A pianist is a piano player in a tuxedo. It’s usually a man, in his late twenties or early thirties, with wild hair, strange facial expressions, and upper body movements that look as though he’s murdering someone in the shower. Audiences pay exorbitant sums for tickets to hear these pianists, and at the end of the concert, will stand and applaud and yell “Bravo!” more times than necessary, even if they’d been asleep since halfway through the first piece.
What if I snapped out of a trance and found myself on that stage, seated at that piano? I look out over the audience and there are thousands of people, waiting for me to move them to tears with my interpretation of Schubert’s Rondo in D Major. My hands begin to shake. I’ve played two instruments in my entire life: the harmonica when I was eight, which caused our cat to leave home and never return, and the violin many years later, which caused my instructor to move to South Korea and never return. I hate to disappoint so many loyal music enthusiasts, but I wouldn’t know a pizzicato from a cacciatore. My only escape is to fake a nervous breakdown right there on the stage, a development that is, after all, not uncommon among gifted brilliant geniuses.
I’ve imagined myself playing in the World Series or the Super Bowl. But what if I were an umpire or a referee in one of those big games, with a billion people watching? Officials have to know all the rules, and be able to recall and apply them with split-second timing. That’s hard to do. When put on the spot, I usually can’t remember my own telephone number. Plus, once an official makes a decision, he has to stick to it, no matter how clearly the instant replay shows what an idiot he is. He can’t change his mind, shuffling back and forth, dangling helplessly among opposing choices, the way I do when I’m trying to buy cookies. This particular nightmare — the one taking place in the world of professional sports — has the added element of physical peril. Surrounded by dozens of three-hundred-pound brutes and thousands of spectators, and within striking distance of gamblers who are adept at shattering kneecaps, I can’t afford a mistake. I have to make well-founded calls, based on solid expertise, and back them up with a level of confidence that I have rarely approached.
But that’s what makes these such perfect fantasies. I can visit a situation, feel mortified beyond description, and then yank myself out of there just when the blade is about to fall on my neck. It’s wonderful. And a great escape from the boredom of my regular job as Head Chef here at the White House.
bronxboy55
October 8, 2011
I wanted to provide a reference to Ron Leishman, the guy who does the original art for most of the cartoons I use on this blog. But for some reason, I couldn’t get it to stay where I wanted it, so I’m including the link here:
http://toonclipart.com/
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1of10boyz
October 17, 2011
The artwork is awesome and really adds to the story line.
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Jac
October 8, 2011
If you ever do actually find yourself in an operating room, dressed in scrubs and wearing those double glasses, just say “checking the cell structure, checking the cell structure…”
Then bolt.
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
The cell structure has been checked. Thank you so much.
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Les Peter
October 8, 2011
He’s not really the Head Chef at the White House? Is he? Calling 1-800-SecretService.
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
The secret service already knows me, Les. I dropped in on a White House party one night, uninvited, and it just so happened the head chef was leaving to do a television reality show. They offered me the job on the spot.
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souldipper
October 8, 2011
Thankfully you don’t pull any of those pranks on us! Or have you?! Charles…have you truly published all your posts? Are you holding out on us?
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
Sorry. No one here by that name.
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Diane Henders
October 8, 2011
Oh, Charles, this is priceless! Each of your scenarios had me hanging on the edge of my seat, sharing the horror before you whisked us to safety again. But I’m pretty sure you could bluff your way out of the White House chef thing. Just serve ’em your cheesecake. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
Yes, but then what? Bluffing works only on a short-term basis. And even cheesecake loses its appeal after a while.
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magsx2
October 9, 2011
Hi,
Pizza at the White House, now that’s what I call a plan, only a really great chef would think of that one. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
Obama really likes pizza, too. That’s at least another year of job security.
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Carl D'Agostino
October 9, 2011
I would jump at the opportunity to be that key note speaker at that world summit. The world leaders would be the ones humiliated and embarrassed not me. And I am sure you could deliver a fine “what is wrong with all of you?” as well.
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bronxboy55
October 10, 2011
Next time I find myself in that fantasy, I’ll call you and we can switch places. (Well, depending on what you’re doing.)
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ALIVE aLwaYz
October 9, 2011
I think I’m quite persuaded by these TV shows that I so much see, be it a vampire, a doctor, musician specific series. Putting myself in situations that they face, or atleast that’s what I feel they face, is something very interesting and catchy, sometimes critiquing is also a treat, and sometimes not knowing nothing is a formidable experience.
And of-course, all those benefits, to leave anytime, nobody knowing in reality are added incentives for sure.
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
Imagining yourself as an expert in some field is one thing, but maybe not quite so scary, because you have the credentials and the expertise. But imagining you’re in a situation that requires you to be an expert — and you’re not — that’s a completely different game. Much more fun.
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She's a Maineiac
October 9, 2011
I’m with Diane. I’m pretty sure your cooking skills and charm could help you breeze along with this White House gig.
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
Thanks, Darla. My cooking skills would get me through the first couple of days. My charm, at least that long — assuming no one tries to talk to me.
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Priya
October 10, 2011
Have you ever imagined yourself as a stunt motorcyclist daring himself to perform a feat of jumping on his bike over, say, 10 buses? I have. Unfortunately, unlike you, I am too petrified of the situation to remove myself from it before the “blade is to fall on my neck.”
I am also curious to know when the White House fantasy ends. After, or before the pizza?
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
I haven’t done the stunt motorcyclist, mostly because I remember what happened when I went downhill skiing for real. And buses are much harder than snow. As for the White House fantasy, it ends when someone asks for spinach on their pizza. Or pineapple. I take off my tall chef’s hat — which is a relief in itself, because I was constantly having to duck to go through doorways — throw it to the floor, and storm off. When the stunned First Family asks about their dinner, I say, “Try calling Domino’s!” It’s a career-ender, I know, but then I do have that Mars mission to prepare for.
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Ursula
October 10, 2011
I don’t wish to pick any nits, however, given your post’s title, aren’t substitutes always poor? A paler shade of the real thing?
Other than that: Don’t let Carl of the alluring surname bug you. Balloons beg to be pricked.
Your honesty to be commended. I talk a lot yet put me on a platform, in front of an audience, and my brain is wiped out. I don’t know why. All I do know is how a rabbit feels when caught in the headlight.On the brink.
U
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
You’re right: the substitute is usually a poor alternative, but not always. There was a ballplayer named Sammy Vick who played right field for the New York Yankees until 1920. That year, he was replaced by a guy named Babe Ruth.
Carl doesn’t bug me. Some balloons beg to be watched, because you never know which way they’ll go.
Not everyone can speak to a live audience. Your brain obviously works well while positioned behind a keyboard. I actually have no trouble talking to a large group, but small gatherings make me nervous; I don’t know why.
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Ursula
October 15, 2011
I tell you why you “have no trouble talking to a large group, but small gatherings make” you nervous:
In a large gathering you are small fry, at a small gathering you are a large fish in the pond.
U
PS Commiserations at being Freshly Pressed. Must do your head in to suddenly be flavour of the day. Don’t worry. It won’t last. Most people have the attention span of a gnat. Should you need a bouncer at the door of your blog, do look no further: You have found your (wo)man. I drive them away in droves; no physical force needed.
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Val
October 10, 2011
Thankfully I’ve only had to stand up in public once and that was at a poetry competition. (Do you know, I can’t remember if I won it or not?) Oh… well, that is apart from my wedding. That was publicish and was certainly something I used to daydream about… but on that day I scratched myself silly as I had an allergic rash (not to the wedding, but to the hair dye). Oh dear, this is getting complicated.
Sometimes I have the fantasy that I’m writing your blog, Charles and then I wake up and realise I could never write this well! :0
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Val
October 10, 2011
And that was supposed to have been a smiley, not whatever it became!
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
Thank you, Val. I guess that’s one of the appeals of blogging — that none of us could write what the others do. I certainly couldn’t match your streams of consciousness, and your many startling insights. And your paintings. But now I’m going to try to get that image out of my head, the one with you in a beautiful wedding gown and scratching yourself silly. Have you written about that?
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Val
October 11, 2011
Er… not yet. I did find myself doing so in a draft post, but I think it may have remained a draft…!
Um… not a ‘beautiful wedding gown’ by any means, by the way… my sister gave me a dress as I couldn’t find one. It was a Registry office
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Earth Ocean Sky Redux
October 10, 2011
[I just typed a long comment and poof, it disappeared. If it shows up twice, that’s the reason.]
You may call them fantasies. A therapist might use the word delusion!! Me, I’m all for fantasies. Think how boring we’d be if we were content to be ourselves and not that surgeon or chef or Super Bowl ref. My fantasies (the ones I can talk about!) involve giving the winning speech at the Oscars. Or taking home an Olympic gold medal for ice skating.
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving. Do you feast today as Americans traditionally do? I think I smell turkey and pie.
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bronxboy55
October 11, 2011
I sometimes imagine talking to a therapist about these things, but in my mind I become the therapist, and so it’s really no help at all.
Yes, we switched over to celebrating the Canadian Thanksgiving, because on the American holiday, the kids were in school and people had to go to work, and eventually it just became another Thursday in November.
Thanks for the comment, EOS, and good luck at the Olympics. I’ll send you a gold medal if you’ll just promise not to fall down.
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Snoring Dog Studio
October 10, 2011
My fantasy is being the most accomplished, incredible singer ever ever ever. I practice constantly in my shower, so I’m sure I’ll get there someday. I’m convinced that my next door neighbor is going to stop by any day and ask me for my CD.
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bronxboy55
October 12, 2011
I think talent is spread around pretty evenly, SDS. But even without the singing, I’d say you got more than your share.
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Snoring Dog Studio
October 13, 2011
Awwwww. Thank you, Charles!
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dearrosie
October 10, 2011
My favorite is Charles, the White House chef. I imagine that fancy dining room over there in that fancy house in that lah-di-dah city and every visiting dignitary who gets invited to dinner knows Charles will be serving pizza and cheese cake… Michelle wouldn’t have to spend hours planning menus to impress, she’d be able to relax with her girls in that lovely home of hers. And President Obama and all the guests would feel comfortable not having to worry which knife or which fork to use…
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving.
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bronxboy55
October 12, 2011
There are plenty of people who eat pizza with a knife and fork, Rosie. (But I’m pretty sure they’re all Republicans.)
Thanks for the comment.
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happykidshappymom
October 10, 2011
Fun post! Though after this line, “And then, of course, I turn back into me, the guy who gets nauseous carving a pumpkin,” you’ve got me wondering what I should really be thinking as my husband proclaims to our children, “Now it’s time to scoop the pumpkins’ brains out.” 🙂
Also, I’m wondering why you call these imagined scenarios “fantasies,” since as you described them, you “visit a situation, feel mortified beyond description, and then yank myself out of there just when the blade is about to fall on my neck.”
I get that you’re experiencing the thrill of the rollercoaster before the big drop, and leaving before anything bad happens. But goodness. If I were you, I’d go easier on yourself in the fantasy department!
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bronxboy55
October 12, 2011
I appreciate your concern, Melissa, but if I were you, I’d keep an eye on that husband of yours. Especially when he’s holding a big knife.
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estherlou
October 11, 2011
These sound like nightmares, not fantasies. I wouldn’t enjoy spending time thinking like this every day. Scary stuff that just would feed my tendency toward insecurity.
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bronxboy55
October 12, 2011
They’re not for the faint of heart, Esther Lou, that’s for sure. But speaking of fantasies, I just saw one of your wedding cakes:
http://en.gravatar.com/estherlou#pic-1
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Tori Nelson
October 11, 2011
It may be that embarrassment has become part of my daily routine, but situations most deem as humiliating just make me shrug and say “Yep. That just happened”. Great post!
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bronxboy55
October 13, 2011
Maybe that’s it, Tori. We get so used to the everyday humiliation that we have to go looking for something stronger in order to feel the effect. It makes sense. (We could publish this theory in one of the psychology journals, but then they’d ask us to speak at some symposium. That wouldn’t be good.)
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Kavya
October 11, 2011
Here is yet another versatile blogger award for you 🙂 http://wp.me/PlysE-d3
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bronxboy55
October 13, 2011
Thanks, Kavya. I really enjoyed your most recent post, by the way:
http://quirkas.me/2011/10/10/versatile-talking-about-me/
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Jessica Sieghart
October 12, 2011
Well, Charles, I must say that no one will ever accuse you of being a fraud as a writer 🙂 No worries there!! Of all of your scenarios, I think the surgery one would be the most frightening. I’m not quite sure how some people do get away with impersonating doctors and surgeons for years without the training. We had one fake “doctor” here, but he got busted when he used toothpicks on a patient during an acupuncture treatment. Not too smart 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 13, 2011
I’ve wondered the same thing about fake doctors. I can see how they keep it going, but how do they get it started in the first place? It reminds me of the movie Catch Me If You Can, about a guy who pretends to be a doctor, a prosecutor, and most incredibly, an airline pilot.
Toothpicks? Really?
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Damyanti
October 13, 2011
Thanks for this post. I needed the smiles more than most.
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bronxboy55
October 13, 2011
I hope the smiles will continue, and come at you from every possible direction.
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PCC Advantage
October 13, 2011
What a fantastically clever post!! You are a brilliant writer, sir (I’m sure I’m not the first person to have told you that…haha). You had me on the edge of my seat the whole time!
Loved this post! 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 13, 2011
You’re just happy to find another person who’s willing to admit to ongoing humiliations. Speaking of that, I liked your recent post a lot:
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PCC Advantage
October 15, 2011
Yes, that is absolutely true. I need someone to share the pain of humiliation with me.
Thanks, Bronx… 😉
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Ben
October 13, 2011
Putting yourself in those situations for the psychological thrill is a cool idea; I can only claim narcissism when my imagination puts me in someone else’s shoes. 🙂 It’s usually when I see a professional athlete or politician spouting inanities into a microphone, and I decide I could’ve said it so much better.
I like your writing. It’s funny the assumptions you can make about someone’s personality based on the way they write; I’m picturing you as a pretty calm guy.
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bronxboy55
October 15, 2011
Calm on the outside, Ben, frantic on the inside. But please don’t tell anyone.
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myonepreciouslife
October 14, 2011
Wait, these aren’t dreams, right? These are daydreams that you’re controlling? That’s hilarious. I have the same kind of fantasies, except in mine I can do whatever random thing and am completely brilliant at it. I wonder what this says about the differences in our personalities?
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bronxboy55
October 15, 2011
It probably says that one of us is out of our mind.
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Martin Tjandra
October 14, 2011
Hey, me too! I often thinking about myself in a weird situation that hypothetically can happen. For example, when I’m in a conversation with someone in the dining table, sometimes my imagination slipped up and I suddenly imagining myself splashing water into the person talking in front of me. With no apparent reason. I suddenly can feel the horror if that would be really happened, how thousands of eyes looked at me with surprise and killing eyes, and suddenly again, I snapped back to reality. But with the horror leaves a trace within my gut (and, delicious sense of relief, that you were talking about). Weird, but it DO exists, and thankfully, I’m not alone. 🙂
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bronxboy55
October 15, 2011
Maybe everyone has this weird little cluster of brain cells that have nothing better to do than think of ridiculous things. I sometimes worry, though, what if the weird little cluster manages to take over?
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Martin Tjandra
October 19, 2011
Don’t ever mention that. The world has enough weirdness already to overcome for the next hundred year. 😀
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Allan Douglas
October 14, 2011
I can’t say I’ve ever imagined myself to be anything I wasn’t, Charles. But, you need to come lay down on this couch here and talk to me, I have a few minutes before my next client’s appointments, perhaps I can help you work through these deep psychological issues…
Thanks for brightening my afternoon. It is much appreciated.
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bronxboy55
October 15, 2011
Thank you, Dr. Freud. I have been having this one unusual dream lately.
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Sandra Leggott Comedy
October 15, 2011
Beats the heck out of my nighttime routine. The one where I lay there thinking I’m awake but in reality I’m sleeping. And then I say to myself, see, you’re really sleeping. But then realize, if I can tell myself I’m sleeping, I must be awake. Ahhhh nuts. Off to try and sleep again.
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bronxboy55
October 18, 2011
I have the opposite experience. In my dream, something amazingly good is going on and I think, “Wow! I’ve dreamed about this so many times, but now it’s really happening!” And then I wake up.
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lovesripening
October 16, 2011
really great post, had me laughing a bit. Delving into the absurdity of imagined scenarios makes reality sweeter. A little vinegar with honey was an old tonic people use to take back in the day 🙂 or a little scolding with the love as Rumi says to make the love more intense
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bronxboy55
October 18, 2011
Yes, I think in some situations, it’s better to start out with a hard approach and soften up gradually. Parents and teachers, especially, can get themselves into trouble when their primary goal is for the kids to like them.
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arborfamiliae
October 16, 2011
My favorite line: “So many, in fact, that we have whole mobs of them performing anonymously in orchestras.” So…orchestrated mobs? Are those like flash mobs? What kind of word is mob anyway?
You always manage to create combinations of words that are intriguing and stimulating to the imagination. Thanks for what you do.
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bronxboy55
October 18, 2011
Thank you, Kevin. Your encouraging feedback is always appreciated. And I promise to visit your blog again soon.
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heidit
October 19, 2011
Often when I watch sports events, I find myself frustrated with the officiating. Then I ask myself if I, really and truly, could be an ump or a referee. I watch the calls they make and wonder how they can have all those rules going through their heads at the same time, knowing exactly when to raise an arm (or throw the flag), watching all the players and puck (or baseball or football or rugby ball) and also where the next play should start from, based on all the variables that took place in the preceding play. Then I give up entirely, because it’s very easy for me to call a procedural foul on the football team from my living room, but I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the field doing it.
I love your imagination. Most people picture themselves as the hero of some situation. You picture humiliation. I often vary between the two.
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bronxboy55
October 20, 2011
And just as amazing, Heidi, is the fact that more often than not, that potentially embarrassing instant replay proves the officials right. Still, it seems like a tense way to make a living. Unlike writing, of course.
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Flossy
October 19, 2011
You are truly a remarkable writer. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading your posts.
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bronxboy55
November 4, 2011
Thank you, Flossy. What a nice thing to say. I’ve really enjoyed visiting your blog, too — for both the writing and the photography.
http://flossyflopants.wordpress.com/
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Arindam
October 23, 2011
I have enjoyed this post of yours. I do not know about others , but Sometimes I also picture myself in situations in which I don’t belong; and those thoughts are really terrifying. Just like What if i have to be in a boxing ring against Mike Tyson! What if a bridge will fall down when i am over it! What if someone is going to push me from the top of a multi-storey building. What is i will be the goal keeper of my country soccer team in world cup during the penalty shootout. But i never able to bring those thought on paper. Its a fact that i am not neither an intelligent person like you nor a wonderful writer. Thanks for this reality check and such a lovely post!!
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bronxboy55
November 4, 2011
I’ve read your blog, Arindam, and you’re a good writer. And I see that others think so, too.
By the way, I’ve also done the Mike Tyson thing. Somehow, in my mind, I always manage to win.
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kathleenmae
October 28, 2011
I seem to imagine things like that too and be thankful if isn’t the case in real life. Really interesting read and absolutely love the comics! Always make me laugh!
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bronxboy55
November 4, 2011
I think that feeling of relief is the whole reason we have these strange fantasies. Thanks for the comment, Kathleen. You’re such a nice person.
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kathleenmae
November 4, 2011
That is very true. Thank you for the compliment. You’re a nice person too 🙂 I’m still yet to watch Gandhi but I saw the trailer and the storyline is really appealing.
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charlywalker
November 5, 2011
So…we have something in common……I too tackled the violin…..
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bronxboy55
November 6, 2011
I tackled it, all right. I got called for illegal use of hands, roughing the listener, and unsportsmanlike conduct. How did you do?
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nectarfizz
November 14, 2011
” He can’t change his mind, shuffling back and forth, dangling helplessly among opposing choices, the way I do when I’m trying to buy cookies.”
I was fine right up until this comment..and then well..I lost it. I laughed so hard I think I did permanent damage.
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bronxboy55
November 19, 2011
I hope you’re all right, Bekki. I’d hate to lose you.
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