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| "Let's see how my TOYS R US stocks are doing..." |
So it begins...I am pleased to announce that I have received my first rejection email for my most recent attempt to pose as a writer. I have already made my way through four of the seven stages of grief. Since this is MY blog and however you decided to get here you are now along for the ride and have the opportunity to feel my pains.
STEP 1: Denial- This was actually an easy one to get through. I am the definition of Amateur. I have only used writing for silly things like mailing letters, labeling personal property and constructing dirty poetry.
STEP 2: Pain & Guilt- This is where the $#*! hit the *&#! I didn't realize my heart had slowly snuck onto my sleeve as I read the rejection letter from an agent. The worst part was that it was well written! Jerk.
STEP 3: Anger & Bargaining- Who does she think she is? What could she possibly know about writing anyway? I wrote the agents name on a list of people who wouldn't get any holiday cheer from me and began telling myself she must not have read my well crafted and original synopsis in the proper lighting, or maybe her coffee was cold. yeah, that HAD to be it...poopface.
STEP 4: Depression- Ahh, my favorite. As an artist and, more recently, a self proclaimed writer, I spend a lot of my creative time here. As more artist will agree we find our solace here and as we dredge along the bottom of the seemingly endless bottom of despair we find a sludgy layer of inspiration.
STEP 5: The Upward Turn- This took longer simply because I tend to enjoy the comfort of the depression zone. I read the rejection letter again and realized I was not gonna give up just because the first person rejected me...I had to get married THREE times before I found the right match. This old bag of an agent didn't know what she was passing up. Suess, Disney, Rowling, Lincoln...They all failed before they succeeded...or were shot in the head. I can't give up!
STEP 6: Reconstruction- Simple...screw the agent...
STEP 7: Acceptance & hope- This is the step I am still working on. And by "working on", I mean waiting for a refill of my Prozac...ha, just kidding I don't take Prozac...Why would I when Peyote is so much more fun?
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| This film had to be slowed down 90% to capture simon sitting still |
On the same morning I witnessed the little reincarnation of Steve Jobs, we had decided to go with my aunt and uncle to Zions National Park. we tucked Simon between my wife and I in the back seat of my uncle's Tundra and we were off. The drive was quick and before we knew it we had traveled through two magical gateways called Hurricane (Hur-kin) and Laverkin and arrived in Zions. Instead of the hustle and bustle of crowds and stores we chose to wander the easy path to the mouth of the Narrows. Simon was soo excited to see lots Indians on the path traveling in bright colors. That is not the politically correct way to identify Native Americans, you say. And I simply respond they were Indians from India dressed in full hiking suits for the hike up the river. Simon doesn't need to know the difference yet. The weather, hike, and company were perfect. Thank God for nature. (My non-religious friends are mad now)
He loved the outdoors and was truly happy until we had to intervene and tell him he couldn't take the giant stick home. "It belongs to everyone, Simon. It has to stay here."
Simon: "No, everyone can live without it."
...so, we ALMOST avoided the craziness of Black Friday
Don't worry when we returned to civilization we did it in style. The 2 story Hammacher Schlemmer reindeer was the first of many obnoxious odes to tradition and the never ending search for nostalgia. So the 4yr old CEO I saw is probably giggling while sipping on the nipple of his third eggnog, because he had just purchased Hammacher Schlemmer in a merger deal and I helped him buy a new convertible big wheel. Oh well, at least Simon now knows who the Indians are when he calls the computer support line. (Yes, that was an insensitive stereotype)
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| Eat your heart out Griswalds |
