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.