My Resolutions (or Most of them, at any rate) for 2012

Posted on January 2, 2012 by Jim

Like many humans, every year I write out a list of things I resolve to do for the New Year. Some times the lists are quite extensive and run the gamut from extreme (“Lose 90 pounds!”) to simple (“Breathe.”) Other times, the lists are short, but the resolutions are broader. Like, “Accomplish those goals I set for myself.”

This year, it’s somewhere in between. At least the ones I’m going to tell you are. I have a few others in my back pocket, but they’re the kind I’d like to keep to myself. Yes, I know. We’re in the age of transparency and people blog about all kinds of crap. Even stuff we’d rather not read about.

But I’m an old fashioned lad and some things I’d just rather keep to myself.

So, without further ado, my resolutions for the year.

  1. Read 50 books
    I love to read. And one of the nice things about not having a car is that mass transit allows me plenty of time to read. I’m not sure how many books I finished last year, but it was a lot. This year, I plan on reading 50 of them.
    Caveat: Some of them will be plays. And plays are really quick reads. But they still count as books (I speak of one-play books as opposed to an anthologies). But it doesn’t matter. A book is a book.
  2. Write every day
    Writers write. Unless you’re me and then most of the time you don’t. This year, though, I have a couple of great opportunities so I must write, like, all the time. It is day two of 2012 and so far I’ve written both days. That’s a start!
  3. Get my proverbial shit together
    This isn’t a big life changing resolution. It’s more like: Stay clean, neat and organized. And it kind of ties in to the previous resolution, too. One of my all time favorite quotes of forever is by  Gustave Flaubert and it goes a little something like this:“Be regular and orderly in your life so that you may be violent and original in your work.”So that’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to get (and keep) my shit together so the writing I do will be mind blowing and flip y’all’s lids.
  4. Meditate
    Part of being “regular and orderly” means being regular and orderly within my brain space. I know of no better way to do this than meditation. Actually, I don’t know from experience, but that’s what I’ve heard. And I’ve heard it from some pretty reliable sources. You know, doctors and what not.
  5. Be mindful in my food choices
    I’m not a Big Guy, but I’m getting there. I need to nip this in the bud, y’all.
  6. Exercise
    It helps that relying on mass transit means there’s a bit of walking to be done. But I’ve got a great bike, for cryin’ out loud, I should use it every now and then.
  7. Exercise my right to say “no”
    I frustrate myself frequently by agreeing to do things I don’t really want to do. I mostly say yes because I feel guilty or “I might as well” or what have you. Then when the commitment approaches I flip out and curse and stuff. No more. I’m going to say “no” quite a bit this year. No offense.
  8. Do cultural type things
    I bought Jenn a membership to the DMA for Christmas, so I can benefit from that. But I also want to go to the symphony. It’s been too long and I always loved going. I’ll do that again.
  9. Take more pictures
    And get better at taking pictures. Please let me know if you’re a pro photographer and wouldn’t mind teaching me a thing or two. Thanks.
  10. Blog more
    I’ve been horrible about this. No more, I say! No more. 

So there it is. My Top 10 Public Resolutions for 2012. Let’s see how this goes, shall we?

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The Saddest Post I Will Ever Make.

Posted on October 18, 2011 by Jim

Greetings from Rock Bottom!

Don’t freak out. It’s not really a bad thing. And I certainly don’t feel sorry for myself. In fact, I think reaching Rock Bottom is a good thing. Nowhere to go but up, right? Right!

Also, you should know that I haven’t reached the worst Rock Bottom possible. Like levels of infinity or Detroit neighborhoods, there are varying degrees of Rock Bottom. For example, I’m not in prison. Nor have I overdosed and find myself lying in a gutter, wondering what happened to my fashion empire. Nor am I surrounded by angry villagers, who bear pitchforks and baseball bats, ready to pounce and exact justice.

Further, this isn’t my first trip to Rock Bottom. I’ve been here a couple of times before and have enjoyed different types of Rock Bottom. OK, maybe not “enjoyed,” but have certainly “learned from.”

So, yeah… Been here, done this. Feels good to be back.

Well, not really. In fact, if there’s a difference between this trip and the others it’s that this time I will not be returning. Ever. Now, you might be thinking, “Haven’t you ever thought that before?” The honest truth is no, I don’t think I ever have. There have been a few times when I just shrugged and surrendered myself to the notion that I was at Rock Bottom. This was my lot in life, I figured. What can one do?

Other times I’ve made some changes and improved things and found myself in a Happy Place again. These times took the most work, but were the most enjoyable and beneficial.

I know that it’s not quite possible to never reach a Rock Bottom again. Life is remarkably clever (and cruel) when it comes to hurling the challenges and crises at us. But part of my Grand Master Plan 1 is to make sure if I do reach some sort of Rock Bottom again I’ll be prepared to minimize the mental, emotional, physical or financial impact. I’m finally going to use my Boy Scout training!2

First off, how did I get here? And where am I, exactly?

This trip to Rock Bottom has been a true team effort: Part of it has been my own doing, part of it has been the economy and Big Business and part has been dumb luck. I fully accept responsibility for my own part in this mess. I’ve made mistakes.

I guess I should explain My Current State of Affairs. Here goes…

  • I lost my job of 14 years. I won’t say who and I won’t say why3 but apparently somebody’s jet was more important than his employees. So I got canned. Thanks for nothing, Stan. Oh no, I didn’t. Oh yes, I did.
  • I no longer own a car. Last October, almost one year ago, I was rear ended by a gentleman who obviously had no idea the light was red or that I was stopped at the red light or that he had a brake. The ensuing insurance issues and the fact that I was a freelancer rendered me a not-so-likely candidate for a car loan.
  • I’m broke. A mortgage, an apartment, back taxes, foolish spending habits… I’m on the verge of homelessness. Fortunately, I am working full time, so I won’t be homeless any time soon. But still, it’s humbling to think of how little money I have.
  • I am in horrible shape. I’m a good 30 pounds overweight, I don’t exercise and my idea of portion control is two Taco Bueno party burritos instead of three. It’s a miracle I’m not breaking scales.
  • I have a nice, long list of illnesses, conditions and maladies. I currently enjoy gout, sleep apnea, a bad back, a leg that’s often numb and frequent gas. Most of these I have “treatments” for, but they’re still things I have to deal with.
  • I believe I’m not doing what I’ve been “put on this planet to do.” This, like all of the other things, will be discussed at length later, but I often wonder what I’ll wind up doing when I grow up.

So that’s basically where I am. Consider this an informal check list of things I want to overcome or fix. It’s a lot, I know.

Is all lost? No! For I have a number of things going for me. Behold this impressive list:

  • I have hope. I’ve pulled myself out of the crapper before, I can do it again. Further, I believe I can stay out of the crapper.
  • I have a great support system. Amazing family and friends, two sons who keep me on my toes and optimistic, a wonderful girlfriend always willing to lend a hand, years and years of lessons learned through mistakes and hours of hours of therapy. Plus, I have the Internet, which is a decent resource.
  • Words. I love writing and I love reading.

So what are you hoping to gain, Kuenzer?

Not much. A perfect life. You know. Whatever.

More than anything, I just want to be happy. I don’t think that’s a lot to ask. I do know the path to that Happy Place is rugged and difficult and sometimes when things are at their worst, it might seem like the easiest course is to just fall back into misery and despair and blah blah blah.

But not me. No sir. I aim to make things right and good with my life and maybe even the world. I’m ambitious!

Best case scenario: Someone reads these humble blog entries and decides it should be made into a film. That would net me a cool $100k or so and all my problems would disappear.

Worst case scenario: I fix a few of my problems, entertain you the dear reader and maybe help someone else, too.

I think that’s a good range of possibilities. Don’t you? I sure hope so!

“What can we do, Kuenzer? What can we do!”

For one, you can keep reading. I hope to make at least one entry per week. They may not be this long. Some might be longer, some shorter. They will all be designed to inspire a chuckle or two.4

Second, if you have thoughts, tips, suggestions or resources you want to share, please share them. I’m open to anything at this point. Notions, however, like “Give up” will be respectfully ignored.

Third, I’ve added a “rent me” widget to this page. Pony up some dough, make a request 5, I will oblige. However, if it seems extreme, illegal or not worth it6, I may have to decline.

So that’s me! I’m looking forward to this journey. Won’t you join me?78

  1. Not to be confused with Grand Master Flash, who rocks. ↩
  2. To be fair, I only made it as far as Webelo. And I was only a Webelo for about a month. I got tired of playing dodge ball and retired. ↩
  3. One of the few times — from here on out — that I won’t offer full disclosure. ↩
  4. This one isn’t exactly a knee slapper, but if we’re starting at Rock Bottom, we might as well start the Laugh-O-Meter at Rock Bottom, too. Nowhere to go but up! ↩
  5. “Jim, I donated $10. Write me a limerick!” ↩
  6. “Jim, here’s $9. Paint my house.” ↩
  7. The correct answer is “yes.” Thank you. ↩
  8. And feel free to spread the word, too. Thank you. ↩

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An Open Letter to Michele Bachmann and Her Cohorts.

Posted on July 8, 2011 by Jim

Dear Ms. Bachmann.

I see you’ve made the myopic choice of signing the Iowa Leader’s homophobic pledge to keep marriage pure and beautiful and blah blah blah, an act which will not just bolster your support from the far religious right, but expose to the rest of us just how little you know about humans.

Part of this Decree or Pledge or Declaration of Marriage Protection or Confession of Ignorance or whatever you want to call it says you agree that homosexuality is a choice. Did you read this part? 1

Now, I know they made it all impressive when they say things like there is a “lack of empirical scientific evidence” supporting the notion that homosexuality is not a choice, but let’s break this down into some bite-sized interesting pieces.

First, I find it ironic you’re on board with the “lack of empirical scientific” evidence since you and your ilk are always waiting to pounce on science when science makes declarations you don’t agree with or would pose an inconvenience to you. Evolution? Science is wrong! Science must be stopped! Climate change? Science is wrong! Science must be stopped! Stay away from my Hummer! No scientific evidence that homosexuality is or is not a choice? Yay for science! USA! USA!

Or is it that you just view science like you do the Bible: A perfect weapon in times of need, disposable when not. You may blanch at this thought, but, well, it’s true.

Want to ban homosexuality? There’s a verse for that! Of course, there are Bible passages 2 that call the eating of shellfish an abomination. Same with tattoos!3 All sorts of things! 4

If you’re going to use the Bible as your weapon, use the whole thing. And good luck with that, as the Bible is rife with contradictions.

My suggestion, if I may be so bold: Use the Bible to learn how you can do well in the world, how to love your neighbors and do good deeds. Not as a tool for enacting legislation banning, criminalizing or dismantling those things which you deem odd or weird or maybe even offensive.

The second thing I’d like to point out when it comes to The Gay Choice is this: Instead of relying on scientific evidence to give you the answer, why don’t you just ask someone? I know, it means no lab coats, but it can still prove something. In fact, we can do it together! I’ll start…

Michele Bachmann, when did you choose to be straight?

While you’re pondering that, I’ll throw another one your way: Why would anyone choose to be gay? Given the way our culture has historically viewed and treated homosexuals5, why would anyone choose that path?

Now, I’m no sociologist or scientist or what have you, but the only thing I can think is that maybe there was no choosing involved. Maybe it’s the way they were hard-wired. Or designed.

Or designed and hard-wired — by God!

Finally… You want to be president, right? So, in order to do that, you’ll have to get as many people voting for you as possible, right? If this is all true, and I’m no political science expert, but I think it is, then maybe you should build a platform and a campaign that doesn’t piss off a large chunk of the population.

Because they may be gay and they may be “barbarians,” but they have ears to hear your vitriol and voter registration cards to vote against you and families and friends to do the same. So when you say things like gay marriage is “probably the biggest issue that will impact our state and our nation in the last, at least, 30 years,” you may pump up your followers and fans, but you anger so many more of us.

Thanks for your time. Good luck with the election. And good luck dealing with all those Sarah Palin comparisons!

  1. Can you read? ↩
  2. Leviticus 11:9-12 and Deuteronomy 14:9-12 ↩
  3. Leviticus 19:28 ↩
  4. Did you know the Bible forbids you to wear garments made of multiple fabrics? It’s true. So burn those cotton-poly blends before you find yourself burning in you-know-where. ↩
  5. Even your husband called them “barbarians,” which I think is a bit much. My dictionary defines “barbarian” as someone who is “brutish or “uncultured.” Fail! ↩

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A Gentle Suggestion for Making The World Bad Ass. Part 2.

Posted on June 26, 2011 by Jim

I’ve noticed recently a lot of people say they know how to push someone else’s buttons and how they enjoy pushing these buttons because they like to watch that person get riled up.

Knock that shit off.

First off, there’s no need for it. Let me re-phrase that a bit: There’s no need for it. You like to do it, you want to do it, but ultimately you don’t need to do it, so don’t.

Second, you only make things uncomfortable for the others around you. There’s you, there’s your victim and there’s everyone else in the vicinity. No one wants to see people get irate or riled up. It’s just negative energy.

Finally, you’re being a sadist. And nobody, save a consensual masochist, likes a sadist.

I’m no neurosurgeon or brain expert, but I have this theory: You know those kids who get off on torturing animals? The kids who later turn into the Ted Bundy’s of the world? My guess is that they do that stuff because of screwed up wiring in their brains. And, sure, they may live in awful situations, but ultimately what turns them into Ted Bundy’s is the funky wiring.

You, my dear button pushers, possess that same funky wiring. Maybe not to the same severity as a Ted Bundy, but you’ve got it. Fortunately, you’re capable of not going the Ted Bundy route. You have some control over your actions.

So knock off the button pushing. You aren’t helping anyone, you’re only angering the rest of us and, when I’m elected king of the world, if you don’t stop, you’ll be sent to a sanitarium somewhere in the middle of nowhere and then you’ll be really miserable.

Which would make the rest of us quite happy.

And thus it is written. Venture forth and make it so, y’all.

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A Gentle Suggestion for Making the World Bad Ass. Part 1.

Posted on June 4, 2011 by Jim

It seems to me that we would all do well, from time to time, perhaps on a random Saturday afternoon, like today, if we engaged in a poorly executed square dance while listening to an uplifting song. It’s even better if you square dance with a partner who is 12 years old or younger, because they will fully commit to the dance and may even throw in moves that you didn’t know belonged in square dancing. And probably don’t.

If you are in need of a song, here are a few to choose from:

  1. “Mr. Blue Sky” by the Electric Light Orchestra.
  2. “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey” by Paul McCartney and Wings.
  3. “The Mayor of Simpleton” by XTC.
  4. “Me and Julio Down by the School Yard” by Paul Simon.

And thus it is written. Venture forth and make it so, y’all.

Posted in Philosophical Business. | Leave a comment

Heavy pet-ting, y’all.

Posted on May 23, 2011 by Jim

The inaugural season of Nouveau 47′s Monday storytelling series, “The Most: A Night of Stories,” wrapped up last week. And I talked about pets. Here’s what I had to say about all that.

On Pets

by Jim Kuenzer

Thank you. Please, be seated.

I have come to make a simple demand: We should all try to behave more like our pets.

I mean this more in the grander scheme of things. This is more about attitude and purpose than it is habit or behavior. I certainly don’t want anyone to scratch up the corners of their sofas, chase fire trucks for no reason or poop on their rugs. Unless you’ve already been doing these things, in which case… Carry on.

For those of you who wonder why I have made this demand, let’s first take a look at how people relate to their pets.

They treat them like humans, don’t they? At best, they talk to them, give them names, sometimes nicknames and carry on conversations.

At worst, they put them in sweaters, have fancy portraits made and take them to therapists and whisperers.

By the way, if you’re the type to carry your dog in your purse, then you should name your dog “Loose Change” or “Old Receipts,” because those are things that really do belong in a purse. Not dogs.

For the very worst, I recommend the documentary “Gates of Heaven,” by Errol Morris, which is about the relocation of a pet cemetery and the people affected by it. It’s hilarious.

What do people get in return for their affection? Not much, really. Pets don’t make clever quips and they don’t make us proud by getting good grades or becoming successful storytellers. We can’t hope to create future generations through our pets. At least, I hope no one’s trying to create future generations through their pets. That would be gross.

When we talk to our pets they don’t talk back. I think one time I said something to my dog, Winnie, and she yawned and it almost sounded like “Yeah,” but they don’t really say much back.

But this is what gives pets their appeal and why we should emulate them: Because within their absence of speech, there is also the absence of judgment.

I got married very young and the marriage didn’t last long. When my then-wife asked for a divorce, I turned to a friend to pour my heart out to. At the end of my tale, which took place at a Wendy’s, my friend said, “Wow, that really sucks. Not to change the subject, (pause) but did you see who the Mavericks want to pick up in the off season?”

I so wanted my friend to be a dog at that moment, partly because I wouldn’t have faced as much prison time if I murdered him on the spot, but mostly because at that time I just needed someone to listen. And not use listening as a segue to Really Important News.

So behave like your pets, people! Listen without judgment. Serve as an ear, a companion, for those in need. And when I say those in need, I mean, of course, everyone.

And while you’re at it, if you can learn to run real fast, jump real high and catch a Frisbee in your mouth, that would be cool, too.

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These are just some initial thoughts and feelings, y’all.

Posted on May 1, 2011 by Jim

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

Nearly ten years after 9/11, justice is served. Or is it?

Not to be the party-pooper here, but I have a bit of a problem celebrating the death of anyone, especially the killing of someone.

Yes, he was hated. Yes, he was evil. Yes, he was responsible for the senseless deaths of thousands and thousands of innocent lives. But does killing Bin Laden prove anything or improve anything? Though we have, as one commentator just put it, “killed the face of evil,” does that mean the body of evil won’t survive?

Further, who are we to determine who lives and who dies? I thought that was God’s job.

I don’t have the answers, of course. And I’m not even going to start speculating tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But I will say this…

One of the toughest things about living in the post-9/11 world has been hearing the stories of the survivors and the relatives of those who lost their lives in the World Trade Center. I can’t imagine, nor do I even care to imagine, going through anything like that.

If tonight the victims and survivors of 9/11 finally feel a sense of justice or closure or peace, then Osama Bin Laden’s death will not have been in vain.

I do think, however, we could do without so much celebrating. You know, the jumping around chanting “USA! USA!” The flag waving. And please, please, please, don’t blast that infernal Lee Greenwood song from your car speakers.

Instead, I’d suggest something else. First, some background, just to give you an idea of how my mind works.

When the US started retaliating against Al Qaeda and waging war in Afghanistan and later in Iraq, I wondered if war was really the best way to fight terrorism. Is fighting fire with fire always the best recourse? Or was it just what they expected and wanted? Sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy that started two steps back.

Instead, what if we were to stage covert operations where our soldiers would shuttle in, under the cover of night, and build playgrounds and recreation centers for Muslim children?

Would that blow their minds or what?

With that thinking in mind, I believe this is how we should celebrate: Find someone who doesn’t share your faith and do them a kindness without any expectation of anything in return. Just do it because that’s what your faith has taught you.

That’s one thing you can do. The other thing I’d suggest is to show a bit of humility and sincerity and count your blessings.

Earlier I posted a Tweet that said, “God bless the world, y’all.” My son, Cameron, responded with “Good bless you.” Then he said, “Let’s hang soon.”

And that, in my opinion, was the greatest blessing I could imagine.

On the evening of September 11, 2001, after I came home from work and started to process all of the information from the day, I was overcome with a feeling of dread. I didn’t feel safe any more! I thought the world was a horrible place and I didn’t want any part of it!

But then my other son, Max, then not yet 2, came into my bedroom (where I was probably staring at the ceiling and questioning, you know, everything) with a coloring book.

And Max and I colored and the world seemed a lot more wonderful.

Please never forget that while we can feel great pride and relief in halting the sinister, we can feel far greater emotions when we embrace those things we love so dearly.

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So I had this to say about childhood memories, y’all.

Posted on April 19, 2011 by Jim

I loved being a kid. So much so that I haven’t fully given it up yet. With that in mind, I wrote this for April’s Storytelling Event at Nouveau 47.

On Childhood Memories

by Jim Kuenzer.

Thank you. Please, be seated.

Ah, childhood. Good times. And some not-so-good times, I guess. To be honest, I can’t tell you what the tone of tonight’s stories were, as I wrote this some time in the past. Not a better time, necessarily. I think it was last Wednesday.

One thing I can say, with a fair amount of certainty, I’m surprised so many, if not all, of tonight’s stories were written about distant childhood memories and not recent childhood memories. And I do mean our own recent childhood memories and not memories of, say, our own children or a kid we saw at the mall. And I’m not talking about relative recency. In principle, the memories of kindergarten are no closer to the 21 year old than they are the 65 year old. If you don’t believe me, ask a 21 year old and a 65 year old to return to their kindergarten days and see who gets there first. See? Same distance!
“But Jim,” you may say. “How can we have recent childhood memories? We’re all grown ups!”

And this is the big problem in our world today: We all say we’re grown ups, so we don’t have time to be or, even worse, we’re above being childlike, when, in actuality, we’re all acting like a big bunch of babies.

Tell a group of people you’re going to raise their taxes and they act like infants who have just had their pacifiers yanked out of their mouths. Watch two “grown ups” fight over a parking spot. Watch countries go to war over land. “We were here first,” says the one side. “No! We were!” says the other. I can think of nothing more childish than people fighting over dirt. And don’t give me that, “But this is our home!” business. Home is where the heart is, dumb asses. You’re fighting over dirt.

When my older son, Cameron, was about 6 or 7, he got a Toys R Us gift certificate for his birthday. As I was taking him to the store, I asked what he wanted to buy. An action figure? Legos? A plastic yet all too real even though it has the orange tip gun?

He said, “No. I’m going to buy a game so everyone can play.”

As much as I try to teach my sons, I’m afraid they’ve taught me exponentially more.

This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the things kids can teach us. They are willing to share. They will play by the rules. They fear “getting in trouble.” In fact, they are very principled individuals. They don’t like people being mean. They like making friends. They have an unbridled sense of adventure. They are sponges, soaking in everything around them. Their sense of awe and imagination and creativity is so unrelenting it’s like Picasso times Mozart cubed. And then we go and ruin things by “growing up.”

Dr Seuss once said, “Adults are obsolete children and the hell with them.” For once in my life I can say I’m a little more optimistic than Dr Seuss. I think we can get over this “grown up” phase. I think we must get over this “grown up” phase.

Embrace your inner child. Once a day or more, and more is better in this case, do something you enjoyed doing as a child. Go get a Slurpee. Watch cartoons. Chunk water balloons at grown ups. OK. This last one isn’t a suggestion. It’s a command. It is the first salvo fired in the war against uptight, rigid, uncool grown ups. I am commanding you all to launch a water balloon aimed at someone who’s far too serious. 1

And if you don’t have any balloons and you’re going out to buy them, be sure you buy a lot. So everyone can play.

  1. I called an option here and made the audience raise their right hand and promise to do this. So now there are 50 or so people who have pledged to chunk water balloons at Serious Grown Ups. Those who didn’t recite the oath have been warned they are our first targets. ↩

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Testing.

Posted on April 15, 2011 by Jim

So I’m experimenting with the iPad version of this WordPress business and it seems to be working.
As I write this, I am in the lobby of the Margo Jones Theatre, working the box office. Kids, this is what they call “paying your dues.” One more night of this and I’ll be eligible for the Big Time.
However, I will be performing after this performance of “Alice,” which you should see, if you haven’t already. It hasn’t hit me yet that I will be performing in about an hour. I’m sure it will, though.
Also, speaking of performing: I will be reading a “story” at Monday night’s Theatre Apprēsh Show. It’s about childhood memories and I will treating the audience to a firm scolding.
Hope you can make it!

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I actually said this out loud in front of a paying audience, y’all

Posted on February 15, 2011 by Jim

Once again, I was fortunate to be a part of Nouveau 47′s storytelling series, “The Most.” This one was about make ups and break ups. It was a treat.

Here is what I said unto the world.

Love.

by Jim Kuenzer

Thank you. Please be seated.

A disclaimer: For the purposes of this essay, when I speak of love it will be in regards to “romantic love.” The kind you find between a man and a woman, a man and a man or the purest love of all, a woman and a woman, especially when those women own a car wash.

Love is a many splendored thing. Or is it? Finding love, losing love, making up, breaking up, rekindling, reintroducing, re-awakening; I think we can all agree that each of these facets of love are annoying when we watch someone else experience them.

But if we go through them ourselves, their outcome can determine whether we want to go on living or not go on at all.

Why? Love isn’t a need. We don’t need love like we need food, air or water.

To help with these issues, I recommend we turn to our modern day philosophers and poets. And by “modern day philosophers and poets,” I of course mean popular singer/songwriters.

According to the Beatles, “Love is all you need.”

Tears for Fears were “sewing the seeds of love.” Probably for a beneficial purpose.

Ashlee Simpson said “love makes the world go ‘round.” And why not? Ashlee Simpson, at her advanced age, must have a firm grasp on planetary physics.

But wait. Pat Benatar said “Love is a battlefield.” Nazareth said “Love hurts.” Def Leppard said “Love bites.” The J. Geils Band said “Love stinks.” And, my personal favorite, Frank Zappa said “broken hearts are for assholes.”

So which is it? Is love the answer or does it bite?

Love is all of the above – we just never know if we’ll find the answer or get bitten.

So why do we even bother at all?

My theory? It’s because of misery and weirdness.

See, life is like a new job. You think you’re going to love it and you have big plans and hopes but maybe your boss is a jerk or the hours stink or the hairnet just isn’t as discreet as you thought. And the thing about this new job is that everyone else seems to love it, so you don’t say a word to anyone and you go on working, but inside you’re a wreck.

But then you meet someone who seems different than the rest. Maybe he or she hasn’t chug-a-lugged the Kool-Aid with as much gusto as the others. Maybe while all of the other employees are laughing at the boss’s horrible impersonation of the “Makin’ Copies” guy from Saturday Night Live, this special someone just smirks. And you want to tell this person how you feel about the job, but you’re not sure you should. After all, what if this special someone doesn’t agree?

Finally, though, you can’t help it. In a moment of passion you spill your guts: I think this job stinks! I think our phone greeting sounds desperate! I think our uniforms make us look like pawn shop owners!

There is quiet – maybe too much quiet – but then this someone agrees. Yes, the job is lame! Yes, the discount isn’t generous enough and who would want to buy this crap anyway!

All of a sudden, the job doesn’t seem so bad any more. It’s not that anything has changed with the job, but for once, you have an ally.

This is why we search for love. Life doesn’t get any easier or any less weird once we’ve found love. In fact, sometimes it’s tougher and weirder. But for once we have an ally.

Love is a battlefield, it bites, it stings, it bleeds, it stinks and, yes, maybe broken hearts are for assholes.

But it’s also worth it when we find, even for the briefest of moments, that we are not alone.

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