Never too Late...Always, Always too Soon

We all know it's never too late for a blog entry, for a last-minute wedding gift, or for an impulsive drive to Mexico for authentic tacos. But what most of us don't know is that's it's always, always too soon to say, do, or act in any way, shape, or form that might resemble, invoke, or call to question the relevancy, importance, or seriousness of a recent turn of events, activities, or breaking news. If you think I like to type in lists of threes- first of all, you're correct. Second of all, you may be wondering: how can something be too soon? And finally, to answer your question: I won't.  I am merely the gateway- the provoker- the teaser- of thoughts, ideas, and emotions. Think about it though. Most of the stuff you say will, within minutes- even seconds!- becomes too soon to have even thought or said it. And I'm not talking about your typical Michael Jackson reference. Have some class, people. I'm talking about any sickness, health discovery, birthday, anniversary, sentence, grocery store trip, celery stick, yoga session, congratulatory remark, mistake, swimming pool adventure, or failed math test. Basically, all of life is too soon. Once it happens, POOF it's out there! Out where? There. We're not ready for it. We just aren't.

To most of you who don't know me (aka zero, because who reads this anyway?) you will demand that my argument makes NO sense. None! What does she mean "all life is too soon?" What is the premise of this claim? More importantly, soon compared to what? On time? Perhaps. But when nothing is on time- when is it too late? Starting with the observation that everything will always be too soon (because, let's face it, things are unfolding at a rapid pace, even Steven Hawking can't keep up)- then by default, it can never, ever be too late. You can always make up a missed opportunity, a high five, a meal, a workout-- in fact, we have to capitalize on Things Never Being Too Late because, as we learned above, it will always be too soon to do, say, conclude anything. So, with no choice but to jump on the train after-the-fact, you simply wait for the 'too-soon' moment to leave (it will... give it time!), and then do whatever it was you were supposed to do. As a result, "Too late" becomes "On time," and because the present moment is Always Too Soon, it simply fades to dusk (copyright dashboard confessional lyric). The stakes? Well, us robot-humanoids have no choice but to surrender to the limbo-land of recycled time and elastic deadlines, constantly on edge, but on the edge of nothing. Hmm?

I wouldn't trust anything I type if I were you. Do you want some reality-speak? I have a month more to go in this amazing city called Nueva York, and know that I will return eventually. So while the leaves rustle change, and the homeless man asks for change,  I think that it's about time to compose some nonsense. To begin, when nonsense can also be sense, what is right? More importantly, do you tie your scarf in a knot, or wrap it around your neck loosely? These are pressing issues that you will have to answer at some point in your life. Gain detergent comes in regular wash, AND fabric softener- which do you choose? Diet snapple, or regular? Would you want to risk the extra 110 calories to know that you've lowered your chances of getting cancer from Aspartame?

Alright, let me ask you a serious question. Since when does Pandora play a commercial every time- EVERY time- you switch channels? It's beyond me. I'm gonna stop paying them. 

Don't you just sigh a nice sigh of relief when you hear "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robot?" I do. It speaks of young, youthful times- carefree times. Nothing like it. Where was I -- ah yes, the sun setting. I think that's why some feel it's necessary to go out and soak it all up in the winter, because it'll just be gone in a couple hours. I might stay inside all day though. It's tempting. Speaking of tempting, a dream of mine is to interview a series of top executives or Very Important People and ask them their views on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. In terms of happiness, do they have it? Know it? Feel it? 

Let's talk about love for a second or two. Nietzche-- oy, Nietzsche! Would you get a load of this guy? "For the most part, [love is when] two beasts find each other." But even your best love is merely an ecstatic parable and a painful ardor. It is a torch that should light up higher paths for you. Over and beyond yourselves you shall love one day. Thus, LEARN first to love. And for that you have to drain the bitter cup of your love. Bitterness lies in the cup of even the best love. 

Sip.

I have a dream. I have a dream that one day I will speak solely in a newscaster's voice, going about the trivialities (is that a word?) of my day, but making them seem 10x more important by adding dramatic intonations to every word, exclamation, and observation that comes out of my mouth. Passersby will be intrigued when they overhear my chatter in the clothing store; the bus driver will be on the edge of his seat when I double-check the fare: "$2.50? For ONE ride? Well, you heard it from the source, it's not 1929 anymore, and I in fact, need a job to continue to afford this absurdity." 

I'm almost 99% sure that if people took whatever was in their brains and splattered it out onto paper, half of the finished product would be stupid society-induced stresses, and the other half would be pure genius. I just noticed a leaf floating outside very slowly- I wonder if it has a driver: maybe a small bear navigating it safely toward the ground or on top of a man's hat. 

The muted trumpet is a very, very good tactic to evoke an old-city feel on a low budget. Then again, I'm not sure how much a trumpet costs, or a muter for that matter-- or lessons to learn how to play it. But I'm sure it can be done. 

Do you feel guilty for staying inside? Do you ever feel like there is a world full of eager people "enjoying the day" outside and you must do the same? If this sounds like you, you may be suffering from seasonal holiday guilt, caused by images of people in pea coats, laughing with their pets and holding starbucks cups as they stroll down the street below you. But fear not, there is a cure! Just remind yourselves that they're cold, or tired, or experiencing fleeting happiness that will soon turn into hunger, relieved by a trip inside a restaurant. So just order in! Cut out the middle man and go outside tomorrow. You'll be fine. 

Ok I'm convinced that NO ONE has read until the end of this, so I'll just stop now. What am I thankful for you ask? Here it is, my Thanksgiving list, in order of importance:

1. Bears

2. Friendly Bears

3. Goats

4. McGoats

5. Goats in Coats

6. Soymilk Lattes from places that aren't Starbucks

7. The opening scene of Woody Allen's "Manhattan"

8. Father and Mother

9. Brother, when I see him

10. Peanut Butter Puffins 

11. Free food at work

12. Andy Samberg (he would be at #1 if I met him, but for now he is just a part of my imagination)

13. Zabar's 

14. kick-ass Pilates classes

15. Throwback 90s songs

16. Running by the Hudson River

17. Bear-Goats with Labrador Retriever Faces 

18. The sound of Music (not the movie, but the actual sound)

19. Getting my back cracked and/or massaged

20. Making little kids laugh (this should not be interpreted as creepy, pls) 

And with that, I'm out. Speak to you all soon, but maybe not, because long-form blogging is on its way out and you probably prefer "the twitter," am I right?

PAYCE