Tell Me When

Billy was an inspiration,
positive and kind
Until he let confusion
Overcome his youthful mind

I sometimes marvel at my own dual nature. On the one hand, if given 10 minutes, two lemon drops and a half percocet, I can pull the words from deep within and command them to paper. I can tell Alex those things she needs to hear.

On the other hand, if you take away my keyboard and force me to look her in the eye and say those things out loud, I am only able to stare at her boobies and make grunty noises and high pitched wheezes that attract the feral cats to our yard.

On the one hand, I love speaking to large groups of people, and voluntarily do so. Last year I brought 800 people to raucous applause at the Seattle Center and got a wink and a nod from our former governor.

On the other hand, if I am asked to speak to a single person, my natural defenses kick in, the defenses of a banana slug, who secretes a hefty portion of ooze so the birds won’t eat it. I sweat profusely until the other person gets the message and flees the room screaming ‘Ebola!’.

On the one hand, I peek at my wife when she’s not looking, astonished at how beautiful she is, and snickering at how I was able to trick her into marriage.

On the other hand, I never tell her this, choosing instead to keep her down to earth, close enough to hold within my grasp, dropping the occasional ‘suggestion’ which often sounds suspiciously like a put down.

On the one hand, I dream of feeding the hungry, curing the sick and otherwise saving the world.

On the other hand, I just spent the last two hours trying to memorize the differences between the Red-Breasted Nuthatch and the White-Breasted Nuthatch on enature.com.