Portrait Of A Blogger As A Young Man

Okay:

So, maybe you were wondering what I was like when I was a kid. Maybe you weren't, but if you were, that's what today's blog is going to be about.

According to my sister I was "the sweetest, cutest little boy" but I was also "very sad."

I'm constantly telling people that my childhood is a big blur. And it was, to a certain extent. I don't remember my first anything. The only things I remember vividly are moments of extreme discomfort.

Those times my sister remembers me looking sad, I was probably just uncomfortable.

Nothing made me more uncomfortable than being asked to participate in sports.

I just could not make myself give a damn what happened to the ball. It was a game. So by definition, it's nothing to get terribly excited about. There was nothing tangible to again by winning. If you won, the most you got was a fleeting sense of pride. Then it was over. Thanks, but I'll pass. Masturbating is far more productive. At least you have something to show for your efforts when you're finished and you don't have to listen to all that goddamn positive encouragement.

This diatribe makes me wonder what it would have been like to have my old gym teacher, Mr. Patty, as a masturbation coach. "Come on, son! You can do it! STROKE!"

My daughter is the same way. No competitive spirit whatsoever. We had her in soccer last spring. Every time the coach put her in the game I was reminded of myself. The other kids, and we're talking about first graders here, instinctively were invested in the outcome of the game. But not my kid. You could almost hear her thinking, "Wow. Everyone is so excited. This is really intense."

Then she would invariably get distracted by a flower or a bumblebee.

"Go get the ball, honey!" I would scream from the sidelines.

"But that other little girl is playing with it right now, daddy!" she would say.

Everyone else thought it was hilarious, but it made perfect sense to me. Why would she want to infringe on her happiness when she was perfectly happy where she was?

But, truly, it was torture for me as a kid. Little boys always want to play sports. It's their default social activity. And I never wanted to be exposed. So I learned some clever little coping techniques like, you guessed it, making people laugh.

Imagine if you lived in a society where the thing you were worst at was the sole measure of your worth.

What are you really bad at? Cooking?

Imagine if when you were a kid all anybody ever wanted to do was cook. Cook, cook, cook, cook, cook all the live long fucking day. And when the other kids discovered that you didn't know how to crack an egg properly or your pie crust was too dry or you kept burning the fucking goddamn biscuits or whatever, they treated you like a leper.

I was, however, relieved to learn later that there were other socially acceptable activities like drugs and sex. So, I spent most of high school getting really good at those things.

So, that was me a kid.

It kind of sucked.


Thanks for reading.

GOBAMA!

LISTEN TO MY MUSIC AND WATCH VIDEOS AT
http://www.blackbroadway-online.com

Factoid: I was pretty good at dodgeball though. I got to throw things at all the people I hated. Now there was a game. Did you know that there is a national movement to eliminate dodgeball from gym class? We're turning into a nation of sucker-for-love-ass tricks.