City Highlights (With a Twist)

I love New York City. It is truly the pinnacle of human society, complete with every pleasantry and pitfall one could expect to find. That being said, there are so many exciting and terrible things happening around every turn of the corner. The choices an individual faces on a given night can be literally overwhelming. I once had aspirations to review events and activities and market myself as a media guide. However, I quickly came to realize I don't possess the willpower to travel around and figure out which shithole bars are worth all the tea in china. With that said, there are some entertaining things in and about my fair city that I can point out. For example...

In my neighborhood in New York, there is an ice cream truck and an SUV that plays ice cream truck music. It's like a game show for little kids. What's behind door number two today, Bob? Oh no, creepy pedophile van! It's not an ice cream sandwich anymore. (Watch out, little Billy. Because he's the ice cream in the sandwich now).

This is the sort of thing that interests me about New York City. St. John the Divine is neat, South-Side Seaport is fun, Grant's Tomb is old and creepy, Central Park's castle is awe-inspiring. The buildings are glamorous, the concerts are grungy and hip, the bar scene is diverse, movies in the parks are serene, the museums and libraries here are the epicenter of knowledge. The sites and sounds are truly abundant and wondrous. None of this can be denied. But for me, the heart of this great city lies in an SUV that plays ice cream truck music.

Bad Trevor

A recent CNN headline ran "Authorities kill bear that mauled man at Yellowstone." Representative media of the Greater Grizzly Council ran this counter ad: "Man causes Trevor to maul him at Yellowstone." When asked the whereabouts of the felon bear in question, the elected council had this to say, "Trevor is hibernating indefinitely." (Because he's a fuckin' bear).

That last part was not said aloud, because it's mostly understood.

Writing novels is a little like what I imagine fighting zombies would be like. Eventually, you get to a point where you're tired of running from imminent doom, and fall to your knees to let the motherfuckers eat your brains. If I'm wrong here, please stop me. Because it isn't any outside influence that keeps you from surviving, it's a battle with your inner demons - or, in this case, zombies. Your inner zombies are constantly chasing you throughout your pursuits in life, and sometimes you want let them win. I imagine that one would be very upset after allowing one's brains to be consumed, and that's pretty much my motivation for success; I don't want anyone eating my brains. If this seems irrational to you, I'm sorry. Find your own motivation.

A more concrete model for success I've noted in my time seems to be, in short, secrecy. If you notice, the more prominent figures in our day, be they celebrities or vocational gurus, hold an air of mystery about them. They don't play all of their cards, as the expression goes - used by whom, I'm not sure, and I really don't know where they're getting all these cards. Regardless, I am sometimes challenged to reveal all of my cards and I don't. And those in my circle I'd like to show them to are no longer interested in seeing them. In my case, I am overcome with the urge to overturn my cards only after it's too late. As I see it, this is probably in my favor in the long run. There are only a few tributaries in my life this trait will allow to run dry, which may include among other things, self-satisfaction and genuine happiness.