Here’s the deal. In a couple weeks, I’m gonna turn 50 years old. To add insult to injury, my wife and I will also become an empty nesters in the next few days. My mind says that I’m off by a decade, and I’m really turning 40. My body says, nope it’s real – deal with it. So, I’ve started having these thoughts (delusions, really) that if I cleanse my soul, lay bare my sins for the world, I’ll earn some magical karma points and will somehow stave off this ticking clock in my head that seems to be getting louder and louder by the day. This alternate-universe line of thinking led me to create the following confessions.
Confession #1. I spend more time than I should trying to arrange the small amount of hair follicles on the top of my head. The hairline is retreating. I should face it in a mature, matter-of-fact manner, but I’m not. I cringe when the 27-year-old “styles” my hair, because I watch her in the mirror trying very hard to be polite as she carefully cuts and arranges the hair up top. She makes it look presentable. The next day, I make it look like David Letterman on a windy day.
Confession #2. I say the word “fuck” way too frequently. Recently, in a presentation to a group of creative folks, I bet I let it slip at least eight fucking times. That’s probably seven times more than I should have. I should see someone with the letters Ph.D. after their name. I only know one guy with that much education, and he tells me it’s “not a big fucking deal.”
Confession #3. I am a lousy speller. I almost lost my first job as an editor of a community newspaper because I could not spell accommodate. Even now, if it wasn’t for “auto-correct” that word would be a butchered mess. I also struggle with its v. it’s. It’s just too complicated of a rule for my limited mind. I will spell “receive” correctly, maybe 50% of the time. (Just now the computer fixed that word for me.) Sometimes, I’m so far off on a word that even the computer can’t help. It’s like the computer is telling me, I have no idea where you’re going with that word … get a dictionary you stupid idiot.
Confession #4. I lie about what I eat. When I tell my wife that I had a “turkey pita” for lunch, that’s code for the fact that I snuck down to Lafayette Coney Island and had “two with everything, heavy chili and light onions”. Then I spend the afternoon brushing my teeth, crunching on mints and trying to hide my culinary indiscretions. I don’t think I’m fooling her. I know I’m not fooling the scale.
Confession #5. I have a bias against people who put the letter “s” where it does not belong. This little condition started when I was very young, and my best friend would tell me that his dad worked at “Fords”. I would tell him, there was only one Ford Motor Company. He would reply that he would ask his dad that when he got home from shopping at “K-Marts”. Today, I have the same reaction when I get a letter or email from someone telling me how much they love the work of Skidmore Studios. As much as I want to have multiple locations, or get a movie production house, Skidmore is a one-of-a-kind joint, and we are a studio. No “s” on the end. I have people here who stop me from going ballistic when that happens. (And don’t get me started on the whole “agency vs. studio” debate.
Confession #6. I’m a recovering “story upper” guy. I know I’ve lost friends, and ended conversations prematurely because I have a tendency to want to be that guy with a better story than you’ve got. You hiked to the top of a 10,000 foot summit in Colorado? I’ll retort with a hike I made to a 11,000 foot summit in Montana. Around the office they call it “humble bragging” and I am the king. It’s not a crown I wear proudly. But seriously, it was an awesome hike, and let me tell you about my kids … and my TV – I bet it has a bigger screen.
Confession #7. I’m a Geek. I still sneak into my basement TV room and play Gears of War and Call of Duty on my XBox. I watch original Star Trek episodes and spend way too much time configuring the newest electronic gadget. I have LED screen, multi-function remote controls I plug into my computer. I can watch in real-time the amount of megawatts I save with my new Nest thermostat, while I watch the latest episode of House of Cards on my iPad from a rest stop in West Branch.
So, there you have it. My darkest secrets exposed for all to see. Now, hopefully my planets will align and the retro-grade crap will melt away. I’m guessing it won’t stop the loss of hair or my kids from leaving for college … but maybe I’ll sleep better. Or maybe, like Joel in Risky Business I should just say; “What the fuck.”
- Tim
@smithcastle