I neglected to blog on Friday. My apologies to the tens of people out there who read this. You didn’t get your daily fulfillment of , “What is wrong with the inside of this guy’s mind?” I was in the car most of the day.
For my last prompt I asked:
“What is a mannerism that you have?”
I’ll take Art Vandelay’s answer, although I believe that may not be his real name. In fact, it seems as though “The Author” of the comment may be suited for hosting his own humorous blog (again).
“I conclude sneezes by performing a backflip and taunting all nearby witnesses. It gets me pumped up for the next sneeze.”
That sort of answer reminds me of street performers. I love street performers and I will usually stop to watch one for awhile. When I was living in New York I was in the street performer capital of America. Let me just say this, I love it when someone hits a bucket with a stick. I don’t even care if they’re talented or not. There is something about it.
My favorite street performers are the breakdancers. I would secretly love to be a break dancer. The closest I have come is searching on the internet for how-to videos. I am a much better dancer in my head than I am in real life. Entertaining? Yes. Actually good? Probably not. The best break dancers I saw was a group near the entrance of Central Park. They had one guy up on the other guy’s head spinning like a helicopter. The guy on bottom was standing pretty much still while the guy on top lay flat and spun around. I wondered, “does that only work if the guy on top has an outie, so he works like a top?
I’ve always had a desire to perform. The closest I’ve come to being a street performer is in high school a few of my friends and I would dress up in jeans, white t-shirts, wigs, and sunglasses. We would go into area establishments and start singing, “My Girl” until we would get kicked out. This was obnoxious for one because none of us could sing, and two, we all had the song on tape and we each were listening to Walkmans. We would try to start the song at the same time, but there is no way they actually began at the same time. Strangely, we probably weren’t the first people to get kicked out of Village Inn and an adult video store the same night.
My very first performance of any kind was when I was in kindergarten. My mom asked me, and then made me, be Joseph in the nativity story. I had nothing but respect for Joseph, from what I could tell he was a stand up guy. But, there was nothing that made me want to be Joseph. I had the same reaction to diving off the board during swimming lessons when I was a kid. I tried to bribe my mom with every resource I could, but she was not tempted by my withholding of artwork for the refrigerator. So there I stood in defiance in front of the whole church standing in a brown itchy robe probably made from curtains. I had to admit that I looked like Joseph with my blonde hair and freckles.
Sure, I was Joseph, but I was an angry Joseph. My Joseph was not happy that there wasn’t any room at the inn. My Joseph didn’t know what a manger was. My Joseph had his arms crossed with a scowl the entire time. It was like the African American sprinters in the 1968 Olympics holding their fists up in protest during the national anthem. I crossed my arms in protest for all the other six year olds who were being forced to live under an oppressive mom. Then I went home and had ice cream and Christmas presents. Joseph is a pushover.
Next prompt: What is an item you can’t live without?