I have a 45-minute daily commute and I am not above having conversations with myself out loud. In fact, if there’s one overriding benefit of this age of cellular networks, it’s that people no longer look at me funny. They think I’m on the phone.
Thursday driving home I heard a review of some war movie, and thought about my days as an army brat, lessons about ‘honor, duty, country,’ and thought, ‘Pfft. I could write a war movie script. And my hero would be totally different. None of this machismo crap. Real soldiers aren’t about bulging muscles and testosterone. It’s all about honor. Real heroes are made of pure honor. In fact, when I finish writing the script, that’s what I’ll call it: Made of Honor.’
Last Tuesday, the radio station ran some piece about the upcoming elections and the first thought that popped into my head was, ‘The best thing about our system of government is that you can participate if you want to, but like you totally DON'T have to.’ And it reminded me of saying that at a barbecue and some guy was like, ‘Hey buddy, freedom isn’t free,’ and I totally agreed because I thought he was referring to income taxes, which might explain the strange look on his face when I answered, ‘Damn straight, unless you make less than $6,000 a year.’
Friday on my way home, I heard a commercial, and for some reason it reminded me of a Milan Kundera quote that I can’t find, which referred to the window women of Amsterdam as fat cats, and I was like, ‘Now those are some girls who could use better advertising, so I repeated all the famous slogans I knew out loud:
• "You could pay more, but why?"
• “Kid tested. Mother approved.”
• "I’m not gonna pay a lot for this muffler."
I imagine none of these, however, would work very well for prostitutes.
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