The Insignificant Champion of the World

The Insignificant Champion of the World

Dear Diary …

Over the weekend I went to the Starcade, that’s a retro video arcade with all the old school games. So … while I was there I played Ms. Pacman. Kids … if you’re unfamiliar with Ms. Pacman, it’s just like Fortnite except that it’s absolutely nothing like Fortnite and the graphics are bad and the game is goofy. But when I was kid, it was the best we had and we were freakin’ thrilled to play it.

And Diary … let me just say … I was really flippin’ good at Ms. Pacman back in the day. I’m talking put one quarter in, play for a half hour and destroy the high score (whatever it was). At one point in my life, any time I was in an airport, I would find the random corner where they had a Ms. Pacman video game.

For whatever reason, pretty much every airport had a Ms. Pacman game. So I’d find it on my layover, sit there and crush the high score, and then go on my merry way. I’m dead serious … Philly, Charlotte, Pittsburgh, Boston, Chicago, New York City … your boy Zack Jackson had the high score in all of em.

So I played it again over the weekend … hadn’t really played in years. And let me just say … I am still pretty freakin’ awesome at Ms. Pacman. Didn’t even play my best game and still beat the high score by 100,000 points.

So here’s my question … what the heck, God? This? THIS is my talent? Tom Brady plays football like it’s a symphony. Adele has the voice of an angel. Leo DiCaprio is an amazing actor who creates masterful movies. And here I am … [[MUNCH MUNCH MUCH]] … gobblin’ up little white pellets on an old ass computer screen from an obsolete game from 1984. Whoopity doo!!!

I mean God forbid I have that skill be applied to like … oh I don’t know … managing my financial portfolio. Or at the very least something useful like how to fix the stupid water dispenser on my fridge that’s broken right now. Nahhh … [[MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH]]

And furthermore … why is it that 30 years later my brain can still remember how to crush a game of Ms. Pacman but I can’t remember pick my kid up from school on time without setting an alarm? You know … for an organ that claims to be the smartest one in our body … the brain really is a stupid squishy blob of idiot a lot of the time.

This is why I drink. Not because it does my brain any good … but if that thing isn’t going to apply itself anyway and use any of the available brain cells, who really cares if I kill them with a few gin and tonics? Thanks for nothing brain!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

Cutting Tall People Down to Size

Cutting Tall People Down to Size

Dear Diary …

I’ve had it with tall people. Y’all gots to go.

And I know what you’re gonna say …

[high pitched and whiny] “WHY???? We can’t control it”

Actually … let me give it more of a tall people voice …

[deeper] “Why? We can’t control it”

That might be the case … but I don’t see any of y’all crouching down to get out of the way either.

Because what I see instead when I go to a concert … and specifically I’m talking about a concert with no seats … you’re all just in there together … fighting for position …

All I see … Is your head. Your big ol’ head … rising above everybody else’s …

And typically that head is located directly in front of me. I don’t know what it is … these gigantors always seem to find me and plop their Abominable Snowman selves right in front of me.

And I know we’re all about inclusion and accepting everybody … so fine … I accept you … ridiculously tall person … but you’re gonna just need to have your own area. You don’t get to hang out with the rest of us regular sized people … because you don’t operate with any “gigantor awareness.”

Like why you standing right in the middle of the crowd and up at the front? You’re blocking at least a hundred people behind you with your skull. Ain’t there a wall somewhere you can stand up against? You don’t need to be that close … you can see just fine a little further back … you know … like a giant bird on a perch or whatever.

But noooooo …. You gotta stand there in the way, “I wanna stand here.” No crouchin’ … no slouchin’ … just towering over everyone else. And usually rubbin’ it in … last show I went to … trapped behind a woman who was at least 6’2” or 6’3” … AND … she had big thick boots on that added a couple more inches … AND … was standing on her tiptoes … AND jumping up and down as high as she could … over and over again.

Sorry all you Groots out there … you need your own “tall people section” or something … cuz the rest of us are sick of the back of your head.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye