7and8

For three nights in December I wore a costume/mantle, my face and identity hidden. I walked through yards and peaceful neighborhoods on surgically planed missions. At first it was a public service with a benefit of extroverted anonymity. It became something else. As I pretended to be bigger than I am, I wanted to be a convincingly genuine facsimile. That facade seeped inward. I felt the responsibility to the visage, the play became the muse.
Invulnerability is real. I found myself so devout that I didn't care what happened to me. However, this symbol I animated had to remain unblemished. Stand straight, walk tall, exude legend.
Time and toil that surrounded my missions disappeared. Paradoxically, I hoped that I was an unimpeachable liar. If I had deceived then my conscience was clear and the dark, sweaty nights where merely a job well done with the warmth of satisfaction.
Then came gratitude. Those who knew my true identity, thanked me. That was the easy part. Then came gifts, tokens. I was impressed, tempted and indulgent. The aftertaste of this gratitude is guilt. The costume has healthily stained my character. I believe in what this hero stands for I'll turn gratitude leveled at me to yet another's unexpected fortune. People should do good for goodness sake.

Remember that time when my dog threw-up a whole wrapped Reese cup after knocking the Halloween basket off of the counter.......Yeah, that was great.

Call it a guilty pleasure if you must. I see it as comedy writing better than most.

I find 'My name is Earl' hysterical. Last night's two parter (Catalina's rescue) was exceptionally clever. I usually have a favorite line from each show but last night there were just too many good ones.

If you haven't given the show the time of day because it looks dumb then you are missing out. Unless of course your sense of humor is calibrated differently.

I've posted a lot about the New England accent. I've only mocked it a few times. In reality I enjoy it very much. It's neat reminding me that I'm living somewhere I shouldn't take for granted. In the last few weeks my accent has been mentioned to me. For awhile I thought my accent was a matter of not speaking like the locals. These recent conversations mentioned things like droppin' Gs from words ending in 'ing'. I told one where I was from "I was going to guess you were from the south". Those who know me know how amusing this is to me.]

Well I guess I'm not the social chameleon I though I was.