The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Attn: Ellen (5/7/14)

Front

Ellen169a

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

Ellen169b

The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I’ve got an idea for a great tragicomedy: The Riding Writer. It’s about an author who is also a cyclist. At some point someone asks the Riding Writer for advice for young writers and The Riding Writer hears “rider” … See?

So the answer is “butt cream.”

Funny stuff huh? For the tragedy part I’d say the Riding Writer rides a unicycle. We can team up to write the script if you want. Halvesies on the profits?

Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com

Why am I doing this?

Recently my fiancé (I am still more often than not calling her my girlfriend – whoops) and I spent the weekend with her grandparents. The idea was for us to relax, possibly go fishing, and just have quality time with them.

Despite less than ideal weather (which I learned impacts your likelihood of catching anything), the fishing happened and it was enjoyable. I learned a good bit from my fiancé’s grandpa and even got a rod and reel as a gift from her grandparents. (The last time I had gone fishing may very well have been for bugs.)

To me the most interesting moment of the trip was a very mundane thing that led to a funny realization.

On Saturday we were moving and shaking pretty much all day – fishing trip, then I went for a jog, then ran some errands with my fiancé’s grandpa, dinner, then downtime (phew). I had been looking forward to sitting on the deck, looking at the ocean, sipping coffee and reading. Sunday morning brought this lovely scene to reality. After a bit my fiancé’s grandparents came outside too. They began to talk about birds in the birdhouses outside of their house. Apparently some neighbors watch them so much that they recognize when they have come back (after they fly away to wherever during the cold season). Both grandparents told bird stories – the first about watching a bird fly up, up, up, tuck its wings and dive bomb down then spread out its wings and swoop safely along. Then a story about an angry mama bird circling the birdhouse chirping away at a baby bird too afraid to take that first leap to learn to fly … Eventually the mama bird came down, knocking the bird out of its house, forcing instincts to kick in and allow the bird to learn to fly.

My God, I thought, they watch birds for fun. That is a new level of boring.

This is when I had my moment of clarity. (By the water, too, how classically symbolic).

Sitting there, happy to sip coffee and not move, I realized how if me from 15 years ago was to see this … He would be shocked. I can’t tell you how shocked I would be. ME, one of those people who just likes to sit around and sip coffee (coffee!? blech!) and not move. Don’t I know there’s a BEACH right there? Don’t I know I could be doing something FUN? I looked at the birds and wondered, how many years til you guys are interesting?

I think there are three things that will help me continue to transition to becoming someone my 10 year old self would dread – enjoying life (especially the little things), finding humor in those little things, and having someone around who has to listen to my ramblings (I’m looking at you, fiancé).

1. Airplane – this one is fairly obvious, airplanes are crammed for anyone, let alone Legs McGee over here. (This also applies to long road trips. If you’re flexible then you end up looking like a weird spider-human, legs sticking out all which ways (it’s creepy).)

2. Couch surfing – “I know the couch isn’t that long but you can curl up,” curl is the imperative word.

3. Public bathrooms – woe is you the day a fellow tall man walks in and you, having just stood up in a stall, make eye contact with him.

4. Any place older folks are (if you are not athletic) – no I didn’t play basketball, and yes I’d like to hear about how I am a waste of perfectly good height.

5. Cube farm workplace – where’s … Oh I see him. Also: be very cautious if you work with short folks who are fast walkers, you don’t want to round a corner and accidentally be an NHL enforcer board-checking them.