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DUMBER THAN A CAN OF HAIR

I like to think of myself as quite intelligent. I am able to process a good many ideas and express opinion/thought on a number of topics (excluding sports) — However, if you know me. And, really, you should. I can be somewhat — well, absent minded. I am the person who can dismantle a film or a book or a philosophy and offer up various essays on what the art means. I am also the person who can mediate between two disgruntled people. I am the person who can creatively come up with solutions to hard to solve problems (excluding sport strategy) …I am also the person who will ask you if you know where I left my hat and be reminded that I am wearing it. I am the person who gets lost. …in his own home. I am the person who buys the proto-cylo of popcorn which is impossible for a village to consume because it is only fifty cents more than the regular-one-person-size popcorn — and I will then complain about it for an hour or feel the need to explain why I paid for such a large amount of popcorn which I have to discard upon exiting the cinema. And, I am the one who of how to spell “decide” or “receipt”

…the other day someone teased me after I had made a really stupid error. This person said, “You know, when you get down to it Matty is dumber than a can of hair.”

This really made me laugh and I wish I could make claim to having had even made up the concept of a can of hair. Which, we all know, would be quite dumb indeed. I mean, can there be anything dumber than a can of hair (excluding the Landers Sisters of course)

This is a picture of me taken during my fumbled and confused senior year of high school. I was a mess. At the time my plan was to meet “Ginger” at the Greyhound bus station in Beaumont, Texas the day after graduation with my most fave things in a zipp’d up travel bag. We were going to get a one way ticket to Manhattan. She was going to become a serious actress and I was aspiring to be a comic. I fell out of bed after a night of stoned confusion where “Betty” and I ended up spending over an hour stuck in one of those car wash things — I kept just missing the mark and having to put it in reverse. Too out of fit to drive into a car wash garage — I opted to finally just reverse out. This ended up banging my poor car into all manner of things. And, after landing halfway in a ditch — “Betty” and I giggled for a quite a while when we realized that the 5 minutes spent attempting to drive thru the car wash machine had actually been 40 minutes — after we stopped laughing, “Betty” got annoyed that we had filled my tank to get the excitement of driving thru the car wash and hadn’t been able to do so she stormed to the cashier’s box to demand a refund. …And, promptly walked directly into the booth before she could say anything. I think she thought there was a door there. Anyway, I remember pulling her up and back into the car. We slept a few hours in the parking lot at Denny’s. I got home with a massive headache at about 5am. I made my way to Greyhound at about 11AM. “Ginger” showed up half an hour later in her full McDonald’s costumary. Thru heavy tears she told me she couldn’t do it and that I should just go without her. I thought about it. But, I ended up calling “Betty” and “Betty” told me that I had to go to university with her and that I would be majoring in English. I would teach and all would be happy, I did as “Betty” instructed but opted out of teaching when I discovered that the Powers That Be’d in Texas wanted me to discipline kids and not teach them. And, I hate the silly rules of grammar. I know them. I simply choose to reject them. Not good for a teacher. And no one liked my idea of using Hip Hop to get to some of the kids. That was shot down.

At this time I also believed that there was a chemical, a person and a job that would provide me with what I felt I really needed: 24 hour/365 days a year of absolute bliss. I just knew that could be mine if I searched hard enough. I remember also thinking that the only two people on the planet we could really trust and respect were Woody Allen and Yoko Ono. See? In many ways I’ve always been dumber than a can of hair. Fast forward some 23 years later from my 17 year old self and I know this all to be quite silly. However, a part of me still pretends than a purchase can make my day or an extra bit of chocolate can save a bad moment — but I am much more grounded now. I am in love. I have a couple of GREAT friends. Life is good.

And, tho I may not always be able to find my way to the kitchen if I am fast in thought — I am quite intelligent. This is a picture of me in my standard uniform at the age of 9.

Oh, and from my 423 Reasons I Love Living in San Francisco: Reason # 117: I love that my waiter is a guy who wears a leather skirt, a form-fitted shirt imprinted with a silk screened black and white photo of hairy balls and semi erect penis, has his nose, ears, forehead and other things pierced and is apt to pat me on the back and chat with me before taking my order. Love that. And, I suspect I will only find that here in lovely San Francisco! I figure that there is no better city for person who wore Barbra Streisand on his tshirts when he was 9 years old. Sort of fitting, don’t ya think?

If you’ve noticed me missing from Blog Land — I’ve been working hard at moving all my stuff in with B. We’ve taken the Big Plunge. It is very exciting and fun. It is also a bit scary and stress-inducing. But, I should be getting settled in by mid week. I’ll be catching up on my blogging soon! Kisses!

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September 30, 2006. Uncategorized.

10 Comments

  1. Metalchick replied:

    Hi Matt,
    I’ve been busy too. I am now catching up with as many people as I can while I have free time.
    I’m glad that you’re happy with where you live. I hate where I live, I can’t wait to get out of here!

    Good talking to you again.

    Take care.

  2. ginab replied:

    Matty,

    We had the same haircut at age 9!

    A can of hair…well…it’s an image. Kind of blech-clever, but you are sharp damnit. I cannot imagine … unless the retort had something to do with wasting fifty cents on too much popcorn… well I still cannot imagine.

    Yeah to Tanneil (or however the Captain’s babe’s name is spelled)!

    -ginab

  3. ing replied:

    I, too, get lost in my own home. I’m often five minutes late for work because I can’t for the life of me remember where I parked my car.

    I heard today from a customer named “Brooklyn” (who has a five o’clock shadow and wears polka-dot bobby sox & hairpins) that in the south, it’s okay to call someone a name as long as you precede or follow it with the words “bless her/his heart.” As in, “She’s a tramp, bless her heart.”

    Maybe haircan dumb is the new smart.

  4. Matt replied:

    Matty, I hope your move has been smooth, labor-wise and mentally–it’s such a huge leap forward for both of you. How ’bout a house-warming for you? 🙂

  5. Tim replied:

    Fabulous pictures Matty! And I’m simply gobsmacked by that t-shirt at age 9!!!! I bet you wish you still had it now ;-p

    Hope the move is going well; moving is stressful enough at the best of times, but moving in with a partner for the first time is extra-stressful, especially when you’re moving your stuff into their place – you kinda feel like you’re ‘invading their space’, so to speak. Good luck. Peace!

  6. Kalvin replied:

    OH MY! Congratulations on taking the big plunge. It should be both revealing and exciting. And I love that you were wearing that t-shirt. And I do really stupid things. And I am a grammar nazi, but then I don’t use correct grammar either…hmm…

  7. Lubin replied:

    Congrats on moving in! Tell us all about it. I think I still have that same hairstyle!

  8. Brookelina replied:

    You rule!!

  9. matt replied:

    Metalchick! Hi! Hang in there — it will all come together! It’s been busy here, too. I feel so out of touch with my blogging and reading all of my fave blogs! …but, I’m going to be catching up soon!!!!

    Gina! LOL! You know, I think many of us had that haircut! But we soon found better styles!!! What about the new Who single!?!?!? I need to get myself to your site!!!

    Ing — Can I meet “Brooklyn”? Sounds like Zippy The Pin Head. But, you know — I don’t think that is true. At least, not in Texas. Growing up there people would and could be mean to you — but only behind your back when you were out of hearing distance. Oh, and if one was speaking to someone 15 or more years older and you didn’t know that person’s last name you simply acted like his/her first name was her/his last — ex: “Hi Miss Betty” or “Bye Mr. Ted” …strange.

    Matt! It has been a lot of work but we should be done by end of this coming weekend! It is looking really cool! Can’t wait to show you! And, yes — there shall be a housewarming party! Ing has volunteered to cook for us! Yay!

    (shhhhhh — I don’t think she knows this, but it is true! she is so cute/hot in her little pink cooking apron!)

    Tim — Hope the temp job is going well! Yeah, I was so proud of my shirt. Odd thing is so many other kids in my class started wearing it that I felt it lost some of it’s magic appeal. Babs was hitting her mainstream bigtime. Ah, yes. If only I still had it. You know, I had it till about 1978 — My Grandmother turned it into a pillow. It was odd but kind of cool. Wish I still had it. She also turned my Led Zep tshirt into a pillow.

    Kalvin! Yes! The Big Plunge — it is really pretty exciting to me. Tho, I think it freaks Byron out a bit. Still, if one is living with me it would most likely always freak one out a bit. I think I have odd things. I think I gave him a panic attack when I showed him my collection of Roger Daltrey Liztomania stuff! But, he seemed to calm as I put it all back in the box. Of course, he had another little panic moment when I opened up another box and pulled out my Cher stuff.

    Lubin – Oh! You are such a little tease! We’ve seen your pictures! You are so hot it isn’t even fair. I keep telling you — you have that classic late 1940’s Hollywood hunk look thing goin’ on! …Your hubby is most lucky! (and, thank you!)

    Brooke! No! You rule!!!!

  10. Karyn replied:

    You. Are so. Stinking. CUTE.

    In every picture! From age nine up to that Mass License – too damn cute!

    Oh, and whoever said you were of a mental capacity on par with a can of hair should get their head out of their ass; you’re interesting and maybe have a flaky moment (the best of us always do!) here and there, but never, ever, dumb.

    Even if they meant it in a funny way, that is just a shit ass thing to say about someone.

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