That moment when you’re subbing a high school theater class in a repurposed church trying to coerce the outsider student to join in the class activities when suddenly you hear a noise behind you and turn around just in time to see the kid in crutches with a leg brace slip and fall and break his arm requiring you to wait patiently for a half dozen paramedics to arrive while you calmly continue “subbing” or whatever while the rest of the class is rubbernecking and naturally can’t concentrate until the kid is finally rolled out on a stretcher after twenty minutes so now that class proceeds as normal you then approach that outsider student again who promptly hands you a poem she’s been memorizing and asks you to check for mistakes as she delivers a very powerful performance explaining how “Anglos” (what I look like) negatively judge “Latinas” (what she looks like) as the rest of the distracted class poorly sings “Arabian Nights” in the background … is a moment that just happened to me.
There’s a special place in hell for those who order every last remaining everything bagel from Noah’s by phone, whereas here I am in person, looking at them all, unable to grasp, settling for another. This place in hell I speak of is full of only the plainest bagels to be found; unfortunately Jews don’t believe in hell, and as an Agnostic Jew I don’t believe in anything.
Eating breakfast at a local restaurant in my hometown of Vallejo yesterday. Someone walks past the table and says, “Matt?” I look up. “Matt Larson?” Yeah…? “You do the comedy shows! I’ve been to a few of them. Thanks so much for bringing good shows to town. I’ve also been reading your restaurant reviews every Thursday.” Hey! Yeah! Thanks! Working on one right now! Hahha. We laugh, life goes on—THEN, after the moment passed, he comes back later with two mimosas, one for me and mum, and says “I finally saw your COIT commercial too!” Wow! Thanks! And I didn’t even recognize the guy. It was the most famous I’ve ever felt. And now? Now I’m back in LA…unknown….and all alone……
Telemarketers have begun purchasing local phone numbers to call you from, disguising themselves as a neighbor to increase the odds that you’ll answer the phone. I used to enjoy answering calls from unknown numbers. I’d think, “Wow, it could be anyone! Even Eddie Murphy with a wrong number!!!…” But now, that excitement has devolved to surprise (from the phone ringing) to temptation (noticing the number is *gasp!* unknown!) to reluctance (answering the phone anyway against your best interest) to disappointment (hearing a telemarketer on the other line) to immediate retaliation (explaining this “local number” system to the telemarketer before he has a chance to get a word in) to intentional annoyance (continuing the discussion without pausing for discourse while being fully aware that he was not interested in what I was saying nor was he aware that’s what’s been happening nor did he care it was happening yes he did care to hang up no he couldn’t because that’s bad customer service yes I was aware of this and kept going anyway yes he probably agreed with me no he didn’t admit it yes he begrudgingly sped through his closing “hope i helped answer your questions call ***-***-**** have a lovely day” and such and yes I felt like I wasted his time and yes I’d do it again as he wasted my time first and that’s how you America). #XMRadio
Preschool. And me. Together. For the first time in… 26 years?
Age range was between 4 and 5. I thought I could handle it. I thought right. However some of the things the regular teachers had to do were definitely out of my comfort zone (i.e. underwear full of shit and … just that, really).
Fortunately I was one of three teachers in the room and really just supervised throughout the day.
As soon as I sat down when the day began a little girl walked over to me with a smile only bigger than her outstretched arms and exclaimed in the most trusting and gleeful manner possible: “Can I have a hug?” as she was walking toward me. It was hardly a question. It was GOING to happen, according to her. My first impulse: Don’t touch the children! My second impulse: Don’t make them feel unaccepted!! We hugged. Then I got arrested. Noticing her hug a young boy followed her lead and approached me the same way. I hugged him as well then got arrested a second time.
Kids are nice. I realized that kids at this age are probably the nicest version of people that we as a species have to present. Thus far, generally, people have been nice to them their entire life. Wherever they go they’re often met with smiles and positivity from strangers, and usually only exposed to happy things on TV. But they see people as a collectively nice group of animals (which is not at all true, thought I like to think most of us are and it’s just the meanies that get all the news media attention making us nicies think we’re outnumbered when we’re not, how mean of them!!). But to kids? We’re all pretty nice. Think about making eye contact with a random child out in the world. In many cases you’ll smile or make a funny face if you have a soul that is. Now think about making eye contact with a random stranger out in the world. Usually we look away immediately, pretend it didn’t happen or sometimes give a slight head not to communicate “I’m not afraid of you please don’t kill me”… my mother always told me “Just smile.” Yeah, easy for her to say. I, unfortunately, am not a lovely lady. A smile from me to a criminal-type would definitely be perceived as a threat of some kind.
These kids have yet to be exposed to how rude and mean people can be to each other; they have no concept of race and are completely free from prejudice. Makes me wonder when that all officially changes.. history class? The People’s History version that is.. a book which I’ve yet to get through the first two chapters of as 1. it’s so awful what “morals” this country is founded upon and 2. reading is hard. I need to make time for it. I have plenty of time to read, never do. My bookshelf embarrasses me every time I look at it. fuck my bookshelf. I hate it. For now. Until I read everything on it which at this rate will be in 600 years. C’moooon science. Keep me alive ’til then.
Some of the kids were mean to each other without realizing it. Saying someone couldn’t play with them because, “He never listens to the rules!” or “I’m Elsa and she’s the other one and there’s no more princesses she can be!” which are legitimate reasons to exclude, but to which I responded “If you’re playing a game where not everyone in your group can participate then you need to find a way to include everyone or pick a different game”—a moment that certainly changed all their lives for the better. A life lesson they’ll never forget. Yes I’m sure of it.
I get why people teach. Especially at this age. So much love that goes around. I found myself wanting for the kids acceptance. When I didn’t get it, like, when I come back into the room after taking my lunch and they all don’t go “YAAAY!!” yeah, it hurt a little. Reminded me of when I was actually in preschool……..at time at which I have no memories because I obviously blocked them out. Wait. One memory. Naps. Ahhh naptime.. I was wishing for that today. Jobs should have naps. 30 minute napbreak after 60 minute lunch. ThAt’s how life should be.. I mean, we’re all still children, really. Just look at Congress.
Strangest quote of the day: While swinging (on the swing (at recess)) a kid said to the next kid waiting, “Do you want me to peel my skin off???” He said it about a dozen times. Finally some other kid responded, “If you really want to..” while looking down, playing in the sand. That was weird. and graphic.
Also I went to get lunch and saw this storefront, as pictured below. Yeah free country and all, but the school’s been there for 36 years. This place seemed rather newish. Not sure how I feel about this being in walking distance of a preschool.. Actually I’m quite sure—I’m against it. Am I gonna do anything about it? Nope. Is anyone? Def not. Are the kids going to be traumatized by it? Pfshh no… Have they seen worse things on YouTube? Probably definitely. Will they get a little taste of culture by looking at this storefront and grow up with a greater sense of acceptance for things they don’t understand? I’d like to think so. Should this store be located in walking distance of a preschool? I’m not against it…
I have over 9,000 unread messages for three reasons:
1. I like to enjoy the illusion that I’m super popular and can’t meet the demand of incoming emails with my supply of outgoing responses.
2. Deleting junk mail is an unnecessary chore, like cleaning my room or washing my car, so the more unread messages I have the more I’m reminded that yes I have a life.
3. If I make the effort and take the time to delete these junk emails, then the spammers win. If I completely ignore them and continue on with my life, then their harassment takes no effect and I come out the winner.
p.s. If you’ve sent me an important email that I haven’t responded to please forgive me and now understand that it must have gotten lost in the ether. Don’t blame me, blame spam email.
p.p.s. On a similar though unrelated note (okay related.. like.. second cousins): If you’re a telemarketer please quit. If all telemarketers quite their job then that would be the end of telemarketing as we know it. Please spread the gospel.
I had a dream! Last night. Dreams never happen for me so it’s really exciting when I get them. Can’t you tell how excited I am?!? I rarely express emotion, so this is me ecstatic. Yyyep. Super stoked.
Since I’ve been home I’ve slept in sister’s bed thrice (she’s not here, she lives in Ireland). All three times I’ve dreamt. SO… now I need to buy a Tempur-Pedic bed. IF.. I wanna dream. And I do, so, damn. Hrmm. Meh, probly won’t buy it, might just steal hers. But my car’s too small to transport such a bed, hrmm. Hrmm. Hrmmmmmmm. (Her bed is Tempur-Pedic by the way in case you didn’t get that from this that I wrote thus far.)
First dream I can’t remember. Though I do recall waking up thinking, “I dreamt! OMG!” Second dream I THINK there were zombies, and I remember thinking in the dream “Kathy Bates should be here soon” and then BOOM: Kathy Bates walks right up to me as her squirrel-selling character in Rat Race, my favorite movie ever (Why? Because it’s great. “It’s a race!…. I’m vinning!” And Smash Mouth is in it.)
Last night I dreamt that I was interviewing people to work for me. Not sure on the job, but I needed to hire someone. For some reason it was a group interview and we were in a bus. One girl decided to drive the bus. She was annoying and didn’t take me seriously because I try to make friends with everyone so she saw me as such, rather than a figure of superiority. I’d tell her how wrong she was driving and she’d snap back with some asshole remark.
Other things happened that I can’t remember.
At the end of the day I thought to my dream self, “I should interview these people first before taking them on a field trip so I don’t get stuck with irritating people. Live and learn.” I thought to my dream self while dreaming in my dream. Then the driver girl started talking about the job as if she’s got it already and I had to tell her that she doesn’t listen and is hard to work with then she threw a fit and started overreacting and I was like “SEE?!? THIS is what I’m talking about..” She was upset, couldn’t take the hint, didn’t get the job, and I felt super important.
I need to hire someone now to feel that way in real life.
I’ve had friends work for me at my comedy show, and I paid them just so that I didn’t feel bad for ordering them around.
I need to hire a stranger, that doesn’t know my personality, and will see me as a boss.
THEN I’ll matter.
I’m not crying.
I’ve just been cutting onions!
I’m not crying.
I’m just thinking about.. someone you don’t know… who is dyin’, that’s right dyin’.
Kanye West is a dick.
Now that’s probably true, but I have… okay now that I remember the Taylor Swift incident, yes definitely true. BUT, I have a feeling that he’s perceived to be much more dickish than he actually is.
Before I lose you, I’m using this as a mere example of why everything you know is wrong and will get to more valid, non-Kanye points later on and yes I know this blog shares the same title as one of Weird Al’s best songs ever.
I read a headline along the lines of “Kanye West demands guest in wheelchair stands up”. Now.. that is generally true, however, after reading the story, it turns out Kanye didn’t know that the person was disabled. People still look over this fact as Kanye was such a dick for stopping the show and demanding that everyone in the arena must stand up before he continues (personally I would have Rosa Parks’ed that demand. I paid YOU money for YOU to sing and dance while I sit here and be comfortable. If I stand I want some financial compensation as now I’m helping Mr. West with his performance… Have I lost you? I’ve lost myself….
Anyway.. based on the headline I thought, “Kanye told someone in a wheelchair to stand up?! Wow.. I totally believe that. What a fucking asshole.” Upon reading the story however, a security guard or posse member or cohort of some kind approached the Rosa Parker and relayed to Kanye the wheelchair message to which Kanye replied “Oh, okay that’s fine!” and he continued his performance. So while yes, Kanye demanded the wheelchair-bound person to stand up, he didn’t know that that was the case when he asked/demanded/ordered. The headline was misleading BUT, since it sounded so absurd, I read the article. SO it was a successful headline, thus: business. marketing. success.
And that’s the point I’d like to make here. Business.
I don’t trust the news. The attitude that I see from most every political pundit is a stern, matter-of-fact, end-of-the-world tone that seems to be pretty consistent every single day.
::Break for a couple hours::
Okay I’m done.. there’s a point I’d like to make eventually about how as long as the news companies keep requiring advertisements to survive, in other words, they NEED high ratings to survive, then you can hardly trust the severity of every single issue they address with such life-threatening concern. 24-hour news should be illegal and should only be governmentally subsidized so they don’t doctor up lame stories to seem more interesting than they actually are and especially so they don’t compete for ratings and therefore might as well state matter-of-fact information without the grandiose emotional manipulation. Does such a place exist? I don’t know, probably, but I’m just not into that sort of thing.
To be continued.
Disc-LAME-r: The views expressed in this blog are of the author’s opinion only, and are not necessarily that of Solano Magazine or its sponsors. So there…
I don’t often do this … but look at that guy. Just look at him! I’ve always felt incredibly inspired by Barack Obama’s character, but not until now have I felt a stronger urge to say so.
LOOK AT THAT PHOTO! He’s our PRESIDENT!
I am not a politician. I do not follow the minute details of government legislation. Has President Obama done a “good job” within his first 100 days? I don’t even care, well, not enough to speculate about it and determine what to expect for the next 1,300-plus days. He is who he is. We voted him in. What’s done is done. It’s outta my hands!!!
What I like about this guy is his attitude. He’s always realistic, considerate, understanding—and he actually seems to give a sh*t about people other than himself. Whether he’s genuine or not, people believe that he is. America has become a very selfish, intimidating environment. NOT everywhere, but that’s how the media generally represents us to the world, and ourselves. If people are told who they are, stereotypically, they may act accordingly. Mindset is the most important change America can ask for; Obama is the role model we need.
My dad once said to me, “In my life, everyone who I’ve met that looked like a scumbag, turned out to be just that:
oooOOOOOooo … controversy. Hit me with your best shot.