Soulful exercises in futility

Somebody, somewhere, said confession is good for the soul. I think that dude was kind of a jerk.

Just exactly what is it supposed to do for my soul that is so beneficial? I just don’t buy that it is the equivalent of eating some green vegetables every day. My soul doesn’t need an aerobic exercise for its benefit.  My personal experience is that confession is good for some public humiliation. Basically, you are saying “here is something embarrassing you did not realize about me. Feel free to judge!” to people of varying intimacy in your life. Then mockery ensues. (The mockery may be immediate, or it may be timed delayed, but make no mistake, it is coming. It can take many forms or tones, likely dependent on each individual. One thing I feel is certain, is the mocking involves a May Pole. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t make the rules. The very phrase May pole is bad in and of itself.) How exactly is that beneficial to my soul? I think a more accurate description would be confession is good for keeping your ego in check, or, as we say knee deep in the Ozark, good for making sure you are not too big for your britches. (The phrases that have been absorbed by my vocabulary due to growing up in southwest Missouri are quite a collection. Honestly, how else am I going to be familiar with the term britches? Another favorite: Your barn door is open, when you fly is unzipped. The connotations of this are staggering.)

 Having said that, I am open to trying new things. Let’s be honest, by soul could use some upkeep. Ok, it could use some bleaching, dry cleaning, and possibly sand blasting. After 41 years, it is looking a little rough around the edges. If I could just replace it, I would, but I have been told there is not much action in the soul market right now. If replacement is not an option, I am willing to give confession try. Cue the mood music:

 

Well, that was dramatic. None the less, my soul is wearing it leg warmers and ready for a work out! Let the confessing commence.

-I don’t think the original Star Wars movies are very good.

I just made age 30-45 men’s heads spin right off their shoulders. I get it, I worshipped at the altar of George Lucas for my entire childhood too, but let me ask you this: Have you actually watched these movies lately? Each one is the longest two hours of my life. Wooden acting, horrible dialogue, and the most ridiculous names you will ever hear aren’t even the biggest problems. That would be the enormous amount of boredom. Just like every other all-American boy of that time period, I bought in completely. Every penny I had, much to my father’s chagrin, went into all the toys and all of the other crap. But looking back, I think I enjoyed the toys much more than the movies. Which seems pretty reasonable for an 8 to 10 year old boy…which seems to be the exact audience these movies play too. Which is fine! Just take off your nostalgia colored glasses when you try to tell me they are the best movies ever made.

-For a portion of my adult life, I was a Kansas City Royals fan.

This is a tough one. I have mentioned before how late in life I arrived at baseball, and when I did, I was all in on the Royals. I had shirts, jersey, baseballs, and possibly a tattoo (By tattoo I mean a blue KC I drew on my calf in a fit of boredom). In my defense, the tickets for their games where much, much cheaper than the team on the east part of the state. I was also just coming out of my NBA induced coma and didn’t really get the history of the game. Another not small factor, everybody I knew was a Cardinal fan and I am by a natural contrarian. I feel so dirty. I am sure there are pictures of me out there sporting Royals merchandise; I would ask you to kindly destroy them.

-I once put 25 fireball jaw breakers in my mouth at once for $1.

The confession here isn’t so much the act itself as much as it is one of my most proud accomplishments. Here are some details you should know: 1-Fireball isn’t a clever name because they are red and round candy; these buggers are hot.  2-With 25 of these in my mouth I look remarkably like Dale the chipmunk from the Disney cartoons. 3-The most obvious side effect of this endeavor is pink tinted drool. A lot of it. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

-In a mock election in 4^th grade, I voted for Ronald Reagan.

This was the only time in my short life I have voted Republican on a presidential ticket. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I am pretty sure I thought this would lead to more pizza days in the cafeteria.

Those are the biggies. Both Usher and I feel much better. I will give my soul some cool down time, and then march it onto a scale and we will see just how good this was for it.