Some Days You’re Bocephus, Other Days You’re the Bear

My day kicked my ass.  Left, right, up, down.  Just done.

I have a hard time sometimes differentiating between when people are just fretting and questioning what they want to feel certain about and when they’re suggesting that I don’t know how to do my job.  And I spent most of my day trying to explain a bunch of different things to a bunch of different folks and coordinating eighty million things and feeling like I’ve been given a couple of tasks no one trusts me to actually do and having to explain that just because someone uses “complex” in a sentence doesn’t mean they’re trustworthy.

I mean, seriously, folks.  I was almost forced to do business with a company that has a system for making Universal PDFs ™ until I explained that I also have a system for making universal PDFs.  It’s called opening my damn Adobe Acrobat and pushing the motherfucking save button.

I’m going to start trademarking activities–like B’s Universal System for Opening Gas Caps ™ and my Universal System for Faking a Supportive Smile when You’re Sure Your Eyes are Screaming “This is Insanity!” ™ and then I’m going to charge people $30 a pop to do what they could do for free.  It’s going to be great fun.  If you’re interested, please use my Universal System for Typing Things into Comment Sections on Blogs ™ to let me know and then pay me $30 for utilizing my patented universal system.

So, then I had a meeting downtown, which was interrupted repeatedly by the ringing of my cell phone, which I could not get to just be silent, so I was mortified and I never did get to drink my pop, which was sad.

But I did go to the Hank, Hank, Hank, and Family exhibit down to the Hall of Fame, which is amazing.  But there is a giant dead bear towards the part where they feature Hank Jr’s kids and I’m no animal rights activist or anything, but something about that bear just made me want to cry.

What a fucking waste.  You’re Hank Williams Jr.  You have money and women and whatever you want out the butt.  You can do whatever you want.  Lead whatever kind of life you want.  And all you can think to do is shoot a bear?  A bear who’s never done anything to you?  A bear whose meat you don’t need to feed your family?

I don’t know.  I’m reading into it, I know.  But it just felt like such a stunning failure of imagination that I couldn’t go on.

So, I tried to go back to the office, but I just couldn’t.

So I came home instead and wrote this post and now here we are.  You and me.  You sitting there reading this.  Me, just having finished typing it.

I don’t know what you’re thinking about.  I’m kind of dwelling on how there’s a real strain of “Well, I’ll Show You” running through every branch of the Williams family and wondering what that does to folks.

Feeling like I can guess what it does to folks.