Ramblings From an Apathetic Adult Baby

Mostly rambles, few brambles

Great Question

That’s a great question; I’m happy you asked.

Am I really happy, or am I just saying that? Now, that’s actually a great question, and one I think we all ask ourselves each morning.

If I keep saying I’m happy—such as I’ve politely declared—will I eventually believe that I am, in fact, happy, tickled even, that you’ve chosen to occupy my fleeting time alive on reiterating a trivial point of business, a datum covered five slides ago that you could look up later or, perhaps even, forget entirely?

“I’m the loudest, I’m the loudest!”
Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

Further, does it count as authentic happiness if it was predicated upon something I’d known to be a lie? Was it not true happiness, basking as the dinner-party darling, after my adjective-heavy story about Costco member William Shatner wrestling that beefy child for the last sample?

Have we, also, lowered the threshold for ‘great’ to become another pointless modifier like “must see” or “epic?” Like a “great bunion,” a “great presentation on line-worker fatality trends,” or a “great maybe-fabricated William Shatner story?”

Do we just say something is ‘great” in order to deem it something—anything—and avoid pointing out, instead, that someone’s vacation looked “sweaty,” or “boring,” or “like there was barely any nudity?” Was my Shatner story with the noogies, the made-for-deep-space karate kicks, and the “Wet William” zinger truly “great,” or did the other dinner guests just say that so I would stop talking over everyone?”

Nevertheless, I still felt that very real rush of being the objectively Most Interesting guest, an honor that wasn’t diminished even when I was later asked to leave for guzzling wine too heroically and table dancing too beautifully.

Other, petty guests might say that I’m merely a “great” wine guzzler, a “great” Cupid Shuffler, or just a “great” destroyer of heirloom flatware That evening, though, I believe I arrived at real happiness, even if it was predicated on a fake anecdote about William Shatner power bombing that hefty cherub for the final sixth of a quesadilla.

So, to answer your great, epic question—one that I’m ecstatic that you asked—we are running a cost-benefit analysis on safety nets over the production vats of baked beans. The break-even point seems be at ten annual bean-drownings, as has been stated in multiple slides. Presently we are trending around six to eight ABDs, or Annual Bean Drownings and, hence, business will continue net-free and lean.

I must say, though, you have a bright future here, Son. Would you and your forgetful mind join me tonight for dinner and let me regale you with faux celebrity embarrassment so that you may dine and find me—and me alone—transcendentally captivating?

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