Yes, here is another true tale of anxiety and social awkwardness.
I’m not a hugger. I know this puts me at a disadvantage socially speaking. I try to make it a joke by saying that line Good fences make good neighbors. Most of the time I just get blank stares. People just don’t like that Robert Frost message I’m giving.
But why should I hug? I’m not against physical contact with some people. You know, a few blood relatives and that special someone I’m romantically involved with. Everyone else can get a knuckle bump or a friendly wave hello.
Isn’t that enough?
And to tell you the truth a lot of hugging seems, well, disingenuous.
I’ve seen a lot of hugs by people to people they don’t really like.
Does that person they are hugging really deserve it? By giving out hugs so willy-nilly does it lessen the value of them for all of us?
I think so.
Fight the power, friends.
Don’t be hug-bullied.
That is a true story. My brain was in overdrive when I stumbled into the bathroom to do my business. That’s why I hate getting up once I go to sleep. There’s been a lot of times my brain stays wide awake even when it should be in REM sleep.
Thankfully, I got back to sleep without much duress.
My brain typically isn’t that funny during these bathroom runs. It’s usually thinking about zombies or vampires or sex. (Not sex with zombies and/or vampires, however.) I took most of the day off yesterday. There wasn’t a lot of joke writing or creative output. Perhaps that’s the reason for the sudden eruption of odd humor.
Perhaps I can replicate the process to get even funnier jokes?
I can’t be the only one who has been sitting on the bus, looking at someone and wondering, “I wonder if he is a Civil War reenactor? Maybe he’s a jihadist?”
I think that way sometimes and need to remind myself that here in America the odds are the guy with a bushy beard is a hipster. The only crime against humanity he’s committing is drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Yes, keeping my anxiety to a manageable level does take a lot of effort.
However, I was walking down the street yesterday and two young white guys were hanging out with their dogs in front of the coffee shoppe (like what I did there?). Neither dog was intimidating, but their owners’ haircuts were.
The hair was neat. It was parted to the side…
and I thought “NAZI.”
At that moment I also thought, “Andy, you gotta watch something besides porn and the news. It’s messing your head up, man.”
I think it’s a banner idea.
I woke up at 4 am and couldn’t get back to sleep.
However, all was not lost. This joke was the first thing that came to mind. It emerged out of the ether. Being sleep deprived doesn’t guarantee creativity, but there may be some sort of connection.
There was a kid in middle school who thought he was George Carlin. The big difference was his belt size was larger than his IQ. The thing about that kind of kid (or adult) they don’t have the capacity to see how toxically stupid they are.
He must have picked up the word homo sapien somewhere. And like some pimply Inquisitor went around the class asking them that dreaded question.
I like to think he got a shot of smarts from his doctor. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be too disappointed if he someday takes my order at Arby’s.
I just came to this epiphany a few minutes ago. I never had central air, and I’m all over it. This new iPad Pro doesn’t suck either, my friends. My girlfriend is jealous of it.
That’s only natural, it’s tough to compete with Apple.
Add Netflix into the mix and I can easily spend the day in bed.
Thankfully I have a little voice in my head (maybe it’s the voice from one of my past therapists?) saying, “Andy, such is the path to crazy. Stop it!”
Now that I did this comic I’m heading back to the warm embrace of my Netflixy bed.
So, here we are. I don’t know why I decided to do a comic about being white. Being in America it’s difficult not to think about it at times.
When I’ve done stand-up comedy a fair amount of my act is about race. A good portion is about sex, too.
But I digress.
I’m one of those invisible minorities. If I keep my mouth shut no one would know I should be on the train to the gulag/re-education camp. Being an invisible minority gives me a behind the scenes look at what some white people think. What they say when there are only white people around.
I’m happy to say I don’t have too many OMG! That’s racist! stories. However, even a cursory look at the data shows that, yes, Virginia, racism is a thing.
Being on the internet is weird. As I’m writing this bit, I’m listening to an interview a friend of mine did on a podcast. He’s coming on my podcast tomorrow, and I want to see how someone else messed up.
But I digress.
This story is another sad but true tale. As I’ve gotten older I kept on hoping This is when people become mature, responsible adults, right?
I know that’s stupid thinking. And yet a bit of me keeps hoping against hope someday a magical portal will open and I will enter the land of people who aren’t jerks and can hold their own metaphorical water.
My recent conversation with UPS all but destroyed that dream.
Dan Carlin is podcaster who does a great show called Hardcore History. Six episodes were dedicated to World War I (1914-1918). If you want to curl up and enjoy some historically based horror, I recommend listening.
I spent some time in management when I was younger. One of the themes I saw played out was “Don’t give the pee-ons more money. Make them feel appreciated and special.”
In other words, make them feel good for being team players.
I’ve been on teams. I’ve done well on teams. And most of the time I was asked to be a team player I asked myself “Am I being played?” There were times I did do extra work. Other times I said no. But to automatically say Yes! all the time is a surefire way to make sure everyone thinks you’re a sucker.
Topics covered so far in Andy’s Follies: anxiety, anxiety AND friendship, as well as some random rage moments I have.
It was only a matter of time before I did something political. We are in a big week of testimonies in Washington. I don’t know how this is all going to shake out. What I’m pretty sure of is that Trump won’t get impeached (as in charges brought and he’s found guilty) unless the Democrats win big in 2018.
You may say, “Well, what about all the bad stuff he’s done?”
I’d say something back like, “I believe an impeachment is a political act. If you don’t have the votes, then the President can do all kinds of crazy and get away with it.”
You have to surround yourself with good people. They are like border collies who will nip at my ankles when (not if) I’m doing something stupid.
Did you know border collies nip at the legs of sheep to herd them? Now you do.
And the thing is I can’t just have one person nipping at me. That would burn one person out quickly. I need a gaggle — a team — to keep me from, well, being too much me. Too much me turns out to be bad. I need to keep it Baby Bear me. Not too hard. Not too soft.
I think Aristotle said something like that.
Hopefully, you enjoyed this little cul-de-sac of thinking.
Thanks for reading.