I figured out what I want in life. I’ve struggled a long time with this, and more than once I’ve thought I had it all figured out. Today, I’m proud to announce that I finally got it. And it’s not that complicated.
I want too much of a good thing.
That seems easy, right? I’m not asking so much. But I’ve discovered that it’s way more complicated than I ever imagined.
The trick, you see, is in knowing which good thing you want too much of, ‘cuz you’re not gonna get too much of all the good stuff. It just doesn’t work that way. In this life, you’re gonna get too much of one, maybe two good things. Tops. So you gotta choose carefully, and wait for the right moment. You use your one chance for excess on “too much pecan pie”, and you’ve blown your chance at the “too much sweet lovin'” option. Then you’d be pissed.
Now excess isn’t hard to come by … We get plenty too much of the crap we don’t want… excess crap is easy to come by. You never hear anybody saying that they’re not getting enough of the crap.
“Hey, Doc, listen, about that prostate exam. You know, once every two years just ain’t enough for me. Whaddya say we lube up, and we check that bad boy again? Mmm, Hmm.”
No, we got plenty of excess in the crap department. We have way too much Geraldo Rivera, don’t we?
We’ve got plenty of boy bands… really. There’s plenty. Or there’s just the one big one… I can’t tell. I like that one boy band… you know, the one with the cute boy with perfectly sculpted beard thing.
He’s dreamy.
We have too many people who think they can explain to one another what’s happening up on the screen. I don’t go to the movies to listen to the lady behind me translate the film for her ESL movie buddy.
We have way too many stand-up comics who think they can carry a sit-com.
Traffic? Too much.
Missed opportunities? Too many.
Too much of that ‘You Go Girl’ stuff. Really. That was never a good idea.
Inequity? Yup. For some of us anyway.
Irresponsibility and selfishness? Too much.
Entitlement? More than we deserve.
So we set aside all the crap, all the stuff we’re likely to get too much of without even trying, and we say “we have plenty of that stuff. Don’t need any more.” Then make a big old steaming pile of whatever’s left over. That’d be the good stuff, right? Anything that’s not crap, that’s good. We can’t have too much of that.
Too much clean air? Hard to imagine.
Too many options? I don’t think so.
Too much good conversation? Impossible.
Too much time just sitting and watching the ocean with someone you love? Not likely.
Too much ice cream? Not a problem.
Unless it has a stupid name. Ice cream should be named what it is. “Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream.” Simple, to the point, self-defining. I know what I’m getting.
“Chunky Fatso Garcia Mondo Surprise.” I don’t get this. I don’t know what that is. Don’t do that to me. I don’t need my ice cream named after drug addicts and animal parts. We have too many cute ice creams.
Which brings us to the point that not all the crap in the ‘good’ pile is the kind of thing you want too much of. There’s the things we put in the “good” pile, the “not crap” pile, that seemed like a good idea, that seem like it would be good to have too much of. But we’re wrong there too.
Too much Spice Girls. Especially Sporty Spice. She did nothing for me.
Too much Jim Carrey. Seemed funny at first. Now he’s just a prick.
Bicycle pants and leg warmers, or any other nostalgia for the Eighties. I don’t have to explain that.
Too much political correctness. Everybody can’t be right.
Too much reality television. First it was a voyeuristic turn-on. Now it’s just embarrassing and disturbing.
Too much Porn. At this point I’m just bored, and I can hardly hold a pen.
Too much truth?
That’s the tricky one. Generally, it appears we really aren’t interested in the truth at all.
To paraphrase the immortal Jack Nicholson, “we can’t handle the truth.”
“Does this make me look fat?” “Do I look like an idiot?” “Are you working late again tonight?”
We don’t want honest answers to these questions … there’s a silent, unspoken understanding that these kinds of questions are blatant requests for a lie. The truth just pisses you off, when you hear it.
“You have a fat butt, you moron, and I’ll be home late ‘cuz I’m at the office boinking the cleaning lady.”
Some think that’s too much truth.
I’m not so sure. One thing I do know, what I want in life is too much of a good thing.
Which good thing? It’s a toss-up… pecan pie, sweet lovin’, or truth. They’re all right next to each other on the scale of good… but if I have to hold out for one, I’m just not sure which item on the ‘good’ pile I’ll hold out for.
If I’m lucky, I can work this like the Quick Check at the grocery store… I’ll find me a babe who’ll give me too much good lovin’, and whisper me the truth while feeding me pecan pie. If it comes in a package like that, then it’s just one thing, right?
Until then, I guess I’ll settle for an evening of “America’s Funniest Home Rescues” and a quart of “Sticky Mickey Hunka Chunka Burnin’ Love Handle Surprise”. I’ll be on the couch.
Leave my excess on the porch.
That’s it. That’s all I got.