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October 11th, 2005

I was riding my bike back home along the beach yesterday and stopped to watch the surfers for a minute. Four or five out of the six or seven had wetsuits on. I swam last week without feeling cold (once I got in there, anyway). I totally wanted to get into surfing once I stopped drinking and smoking and I’ve lurked around the shops a little but I just have too much to do and too little money and with it getting cooler it just seems like not the right decision right now, but it’s agonizing to be so close to the beach and not learning to surf. I guess learning to live my life responsibly should be enough for now.

Also, I’m really getting into ribs lately. “It’s just a phase I’m going through,” I say in my sighing parental voice. Ribs have been had in the following chain locations:

• Applebees
• Outback
• Texas Roadhouse
• Lone Star

Ribs have not been had at the following chain locations:

• Hooters

I ate a box of frozen asparagus today. That shit was good. Only, my urine has stunk something fierce all day. Hoo-boy!

I saw Two For The Money tonight. Gambling relapse after 18 years. Hoo-boy!

Now a couple thoughts on the validity of dental flossing as an improved life model
I had some dental work done a few years ago by a bad dentist. I wanted to like him, wanted to find reasons why his dental work sucked–it was me, I blamed myself; it was a tough job; that’s just how these things go–but I guess, in the end, he was just a bad dentist, one whose legacy I feel most especially when I eat meat, in the gap he left after he put that crown in. Ever since he put that crown in, there’s been a food-magnetized space between the crowned king molar and it’s bitter neighbor. They’ve grown distant by the operation. Something snooty implied in the procedure’s nomenclature, I guess, something provoking envy and bitterness, a turning away and a growing apart. It was a good thing in away because it’s what really made the flossing habit stick for me. Before that little slot canyon in my mouth existed, I might floss the day after a dentist appointment and the day before a hot date and maybe as part of a new health and exercise regimen every six months, but never on a regular basis. PC [post-crown], however, I almost started carrying a boxed roll of floss with me in my pocket everywhere I went, so uncomfortable was I with an impaction of dead stuff in my mouth. Suddenly, my mouth had the same post meal distension as my stomach. And one was enough. I had to get that shit out of there. A little plaque, whatever. You can ignore that for a day or two. Roadkill between your tooth and gum, no. So, I’d get in there with a piece of string and root around a couple times until the crap was all over the bathroom mirror, in double vision, instead of well hidden inside my mouth. And while I was at it, I might as well have run through the other teeth, too. And so I became a flosser. A bit of a self-righteous one, too. A portable flossing gadget falls out of my backpack while I’m fishing around for change and if anybody makes a remark, I’m all like, “Of course, I’ve got my floss with me! What, you don’t floss? I’ve got to floss, or I’d die. I’m like a flossing maniac.” But everytime I go in there to do the dirty work, I get in touch with my flossing roots, and remember what brought me there in the first place; I go right for the gap. And since I’m in there anyway, I might as well get the other teeth too while I’m at it. This is very unlike the way I live the rest of my life and I was thinking it might make a better strategy in my pursuit of success in this world. See, with virtually everything else, the most important thing gets saved for last, meaning it often doesn’t get done at all. I’m a low-lying fruit picker (not a low-lying picker of fruit or a low-lying, fruity picker or a low picking lying fruit); get the little things out of the way first. That way you score some easy, confidence boosting wins leaving no worries or distractions while you concentrate the rest of your time to The Big Item. This makes sense to me. But as I’ve already alluded, doesn’t always work. In my mouth, things go swimmingly, however. I get The Big Item taken care of, and then it doesn’t even matter if I slag off. But I never do. And I never get so bogged down in the other teething spaces that I don’t get The Big Item. Thus my epiphany that flossing might be the better model, my life metaphor. But like all metaphors, it’s a nice idea broadly–on the surface it shimmers and shines–but take a closer look and it begins to break down. I mean, all you’ve got to do is realize that with teeth spaces, The Big Item takes no more planning, effort, practice, time, energy or expertise than anything else in there, but you can’t make that claim for life. The Big Item is the big item for a reason. Usually. And so, damn, I couldn’t make it easy. No quick fixes to my procrastination tonight. Think I’ll sleep on it and take it up again in the morning.

Entry Filed under: Lifin