Spontaneous Destruction

Last week, while at the pier, I witnessed a tweener aged boy walk out of a car in which his mother had driven him to drop him off, walk over to the pier and just stand there looking at the Detroit River. This is not an unusual occurrence, it is what everyone does at the pier, the unusual part was that he was dressed like a banana.

I had a special place in my heart for him. This was me when I was his age. I used to "Jones" people. It came from the movie Mr. Jones where this insane guy would walk up to pretty girls and kiss them on the lips in front of their boyfriends, then run. I made this a habit. There isn't much more of a rush, outside of boosting, than being chased by a crazed boyfriend who just witnessed you assault his girlfriend.

I would pretend to be a professional at everything and take on huge jobs wreck them, and then walk away from them. Because it was funny. I worked construction for a few years, and once on my birthday, I rang the home number of my boss, who I could not stand (not you Brison or Jim, a different boss) at 3:30 AM and screamed, "It's my birthday!" "I quit."

I once walked into a funeral home and planned my own funeral without the director knowing it was for me. Thank God I did not die. It was my intense desire to have an outdoor funeral in the rain with an open casket and allow people to break my fingers in an upward fashion so it looked like I was giving jazz hands.

If it was abnormal, I was in love with it and still am to an extent today. I grew up a little, not a lot, but a little, and have steered away from the destructive stuff. But I have to admit that sometimes, I get the urge to do something so stupid, it would make people scratch their heads. But I don't. And I won't. Maybe.










Sing.
Migrate.


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