Thursday, February 23, 2006

Tipping the Scales

The daydreaming has started. It's necessary, when in a job like mine, to daydream lest your brain atrophy from lack of use. I prefer to kill my brain the old fashioned way, with copious amounts of alcohol. It may be abuse, but it's a hell of a lot more fun than abstaining.

The daydreams start off in the normal manner. Seeing a plane fly by on it's way out of town I think about what it would feel like to fly. And not in a plane. Is that part clear? I'm not little Billy getting shipped off to see the grandparents in Michigan or anything here, I have flown on a plane. Tons of times. I'm rich. I only took layovers in lame towns like Memphis if I felt like it, not because I had to. Y'know, cuz I'm rich. But I mean flying by my own self. Self propelled flight.

How would it work? Would it be the superman thing where I just think about it and off I go? And could I speed up by gritting my teeth and making a fist? That never made sense did it? I mean, a fist is less aerodynamic than the lean look of the diver's pointed fingers right? I guess superman's speed is tied to how aggrivated he was. Which makes sense. Maybe I'm just not angry enough. Maybe if I got really fired up I could fly and to this point in my life I've just never been that pissed. This seems unlikely though. I mean, I've been plenty pissed before. I'm guessing if anger is the answer then I would have been launched into flight years ago.

What about the mechanics of it? What if I had to flap my arms to fly and I looked like the biggest, goofiest vulture ever flapping my arms out there? Would I still want to do it? Think about that. You can fly wherever you want but when you land people laugh at you because you look like a numbnuts. That would be annoying. Of course if that were the case I could write one of those long winded diatribes about how the common folk hold down the unique in this world and try to get you to conform. So I'd have that going for me.

What if you could fly like you can swim. Just wiggle those feet. That would be ridiculous, but logistically it kinda makes sense. It's not like I'm gonna grow a propeller on my face anytime soon, I'm gonna need propulsion from somewhere. There are the obvious gas-related jokes here and feel free to go to them at any time. I'll just leave 'em to you.

And of course, if I could fly, where would I go? Would I be more bird-like? Or jet-like? I don't know the answers to those questions. My daydreams need some focus. I'll need to schedule some time next week for this whole flying scenario and dial this thing in. I know one thing though, I'd dive bomb the shit out of anyone who is foolish enough to wear one of those star trek wannabe cel phone ear clip things.

4 comments:

mule said...

You know how I know you're gay... because you like coldplay

Anonymous said...

"Well ya see, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But, naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

MF said...

I didn't know Cliff Clavin was a poster here. I feel like I should offer you a beer.

MF said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.