There are two kinds of history... the 2 years of an old friend’s life story in 3 minutes as we're both late for something else kind of history... short... sweet... walls firmly up... ‘nothing much’ jumps out innapropriately somewhere in the beginning of the first sentence... covered in a spotless sheer of decency and good manners... of big events... of buying houses... of worst movies... must reads... generalities... results...
... nothing too hard... make no waves... the truth really is too much effort... and way too scary... normality is the key... the things we all have in common are best... they make sense... the Blue Jays... the weather... Seinfeld re-runs... bullit points on the high school history text book of your lives... control... the ugly messiness now packaged all together to resemble something of a Disney script... where good guys win... bad guys lose... single events really can change history... where Franz Ferdinand really did start a war... George Bush really did cause the recession... freedom really is a reality... and slavery really has been abolished forever...
... where things just seemed to happen in life... irregardless of details... the downtime... the day-to-day living... the program you’ve created... the habits... sub-conscious reactions... values... bias... education... relationships... overlooked and largely skipped over... but in so doing you skip over the only true story... what you really did... where your life is actually heading...
... knowing full well it has nothing to do with the story, the easiest and most believable explanation is... we went to a Steak House... mini-golfing... karaoke... casino... and got in at 4... ... ... the shell... the surface... the saran wrap you peal off a steak... sole purpose of holding it together at a supermarket... but inedible... no meat... you do not go to Vegas and stay in your hotel room the whole night... you do not spend the day eating candy floss at Six Flags... The Mona Lisa has nothing to do with a day in Paris... and even the dullest shell contains at least some odd-shaped pearl if you can only move from... ‘well, if you only knew so-and-so’... to... ‘well, you DO know what so-and-so is like so’...
... Problem is I didn't know any of those guys... you wouldn't know any of those guys... the closest I can come is to have you remember something of your own story when you were wild and crazy and let loose on an unsuspecting Niagara Falls Thursday night...
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