Ever since I can remember, my mother has blamed me for the death of my father. I honestly could not tell you why. I was just four months old when he fell down a manhole. I guess maybe she thought I crawled all the way from my crib in Queens to downtown Brooklyn in rush hour traffic and gave Pops the ol’ heave-ho while he was on the job. I suppose that is possible (I was an exceptionally good crawler for my age), although I can’t imagine that I had enough upper body strength to physically thrust my father to his tragic demise. My therapist says it’s likely not a literal blame and more of a side effect of undiagnosed trauma on my mom’s end, and to that I say, to each their own.
In any case, my father’s death and my mom’s icy feelings towards me have taught me three important lessons: 1) life is short 2) never let other people get in the way of your own happiness 3) always follow the rule of threes, even when you don’t have a third thing to add.
In keeping with the first lesson, I have done a lot of living in my thirty-three years on this big blue marble. And, in keeping with the second lesson, I have done it all on my own terms. While I have been out and about doing all of this living, I have decided to write a few things down that I have picked up along the way. It is not an exhaustive list, by any means, and I plan to add more to it over the years, Odin willing.
Call them whatever you like: observations, maxim, pure and utter nonsense. Heed them, choose not to heed them, laugh at them. Hell, don’t even read them, if you don’t feel like it. I had fun writing them and even more fun making the decisions that led to their ideation, so do with them what you will.
Joseph’s List of Things and Such (Working Title)
1. The funniest thing you can do is fart at a funeral.
2. The second funniest thing you can do is fall down the stairs while wearing an oversized cowboy hat.
3. Never talk politics or religion at the dinner table. But, if you must, finish each point with “Well, that’s what Veronica told me, and she’s dead, so you do the math.”
4. Keep a running list of enemies and come up with a comprehensive plan to bring about their downfall. So far, my list includes my fifth-grade nemesis Arthur Pembleton, anyone who has ever said the phrase “for all intents and purposes,” and seagulls.
5. Beer before liquor, never been sicker. Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear. Acid before your second cousin’s baptism, never get invited to another family function.
6. Good friends will put up with your absurdity. Great friends will participate in your absurdity. Best friends will let you get on their shoulders to form a giant trench coat person at the Running of the Bulls.
7. Uncomfortable and prolonged eye contact will get you out of almost any physical confrontation. *
8. There is such a thing as “wolverine tranquilizer,” and it is also very effective on humans, especially on an empty stomach.
9. George Lazenby is the best James Bond. This is not based on any sort of personal experience, it’s simply a point of fact. I can’t tell you how much hate mail I’ve gotten about this, but I’m sticking to it for as long as I live.
10. Always tip people who provide you with a service, whether it be a car wash attendant, a server, a valet, a barber, or a flamethrower salesman who tosses in a bonus machete free of charge because he likes the cut of your jib.
11. Falling out of an airplane without a parachute doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as you think it does.
12. Falling off a train into a river filled with loose metals while wearing nothing but a pair of swim goggles hurts worse than you can possibly imagine.
13. Heckling the Pope, while not a criminal offense, is largely frowned upon.
14. Most medical professionals, be they general physicians, optometrists, or dentists, tend to not like it when you theatrically shriek at the top of your lungs before an important procedure.
15. If you ever get pulled over, never tell a police officer that “these crimes ain’t gonna commit themselves” before speeding off in your 2004 Honda Accord.
16. Winning a small-town mayoral campaign with zero political experience is remarkably easy.
17. Winning a gubernatorial campaign with minimal political experience, while more challenging than running for mayor, is extremely doable.
18. There is a distinct smell that one emits while running away from a stampede of buffalo that I can only describe as “beefy.”
19. If you’re going to get a job as a circus performer, make sure you have a discernible talent or defining feature. While you can get by with calling yourself a “worm whisperer,” having unintelligible conversations with the dirt, and relaying back completely fabricated messages to your audience, that act will only last you a couple days at most.
20. There are exactly four types people who you want to have with you during a volcanic eruption. I will not tell you who these types of people are. The volcano community is extremely tight-lipped when it comes to the ins and outs of eruption protocol, and as a card-carrying member of that community, I must abide by their regulations.
21. People, despite what you put them through, are generally good. Remember that from time to time. Don’t change for anyone. Be kind, not nice, but always do something to pay it forward when you can. Try to listen more than you talk. And, above all, stay true to yourself.
*If your would-be assailant is blind, and also extremely skilled with a pair of nunchucks, this technique will not work.
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3 comments
Good life advice is always welcome. I'm considering #14 for my annual checkup appointment next week. And I have added a general rule of my own to avoid people with nunchucks. Thanks for the great read!
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For all intents and purposes, the seagulls, Arthur and I really enjoyed your writing. I will be using the eye contact hint and avoiding anyone with nunchucks!
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Thanks for this — it was a lot of fun.
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