At one point, the topic turned to guys being really creepy, as is bound to happen in an atmosphere that's so conducive to such behaviour. I asked them how a person like me - or even a person who is me - could avoid being creepy. Kat said that I'm not creepy, whereas Steffan said I'm too shy and too outgoing. So I'm glad I got that cleared up.
I bought a new pair of fuck-me glasses. That's right, they're high-heeled glasses. What of it? They make me feel all sexy, like Lisa Loeb. Oh, like you never fantasize about Lisa Loeb. I'm so sure.
Anyway, I've been feigning life recently, and pretty miserably at that. I've been doing concerts and parties and things -- as well as any comedy show in which jenisfamous is involved (after all, I'm guaranteed to like at least one of the acts, which is better odds than you usually get at a comedy club). Anyway, on alternate Mondays, she hosts a Comedy Show and Tell at Pete's Candy Store, which combines the best features of jokes and talking about objects. Last Monday, I participated in the Show and Tell, and since I haven't written anything in a while and I haven't been onstage in even longer, I thought I'd write out the "Tell" portion for this journal. True, the speech was mostly off-the-cuff, but I will reproduce it through the magic of you not knowing if I get something wrong.
For the Show and Tell, I brought this guitar pick. It's purple and it says, "Fender" on it in gold letters. I did not buy this pick. It's not the sort of thing that you can just buy. I found it, and I don't even remember where. It could have belonged to anybody.
It could have been Chuck Berry's. While he was teaching America what it means to rock, he could have been playing with this very guitar pick. In fact, it may very well have been this pick that made him a legend.
It could have belonged to Thomas Jefferson. You know, people don't appreciate Jefferson's life these days. You see, life wasn't all buying Louisiana and being the first Democratic president for Tommy. He had to explain to his black girlfriend that he had to take the bit about slavery being immoral out of the Declaration of Independence. He didn't get anything that night.
Still, Jefferson knew how to rock. Mind you, these were the days before the Grateful Dead had been invented, so when you were high, you had to play your own music. Fortunately, the Founding Fathers had a pretty sweet band. Jefferson, naturally, played guitar - with this pick. Jersey's own William Paterson played the drums, and he was the Max Weinberg of his time. John Hancock didn't have much of a sense of rhythm, but they let him play bass for them anyway because George Washington wanted to bang his sister.
The history buffs in the audience are probably thinking, "Leo Fender didn't start making guitars until the forties. How did Thomas Jefferson get a guitar pick with his name on it in the eighteenth century?" I think that's a question that philosophers will still be debating long after I'm gone.
They will also wonder how this pick came into the possession of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Few people know this, but after scribbling out a page of unreadable gibberish for future English teachers to force upon their students, Emerson liked nothing better than to hang out over at Walden Pond with his buddy Thoreau, strumming some folk songs. Emerson only knew three chords, but that was enough to play "Mr. Tambourine Man," which was Thoreau's favourite. "Simplify, simplify, simplify," Thoreau used to say, and sometimes he didn't know when to stop, and he'd keep repeating the word "simplify" for hours.
Some of you may doubt this story. You may call me a liar. Well, do you know who else didn't believe in magical time-travelling guitar picks? Adolph Hitler. Also, Hitler didn't wear glasses. I think I have proven that I am less like Hitler than you and, therefore, am right. And if I do this:
(flicks guitar pick across bridge of nose)
I am picking my nose. And that's hilarious.