The Ice Cold Inner Ring

During my first year of college, my adventurous roommate and I caught wind of a toga party that we weren’t exactly sure was ok for us to attend.

So we decided to definitely go.

We donned our absolute best white sheets with carefully placed safety pins and our whitest underwear (as best I can recall, anyway).

After a long walk, we approached a couple of log cabins tucked away in the dark woods, speakers blaring and beer flowing. We trudged over the sawdust covered floors to check the scene.

It became grossly obvious that it was a (probably unauthorized) frat party when the hastily sheet-wrapped skinny kid with glasses and curly hair began to sing “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It” by REM.

You could tell he had practiced. Dude knew EVERY WORD.

It was impressive.

But, I found out later, it wasn’t impressive enough to get him into whatever Inner Ring he was auditioning for.

We all knew he wouldn’t make it.

They had razzed him just for the hell of it.

Ah, exclusivity.

I’ve spent SO much time and energy trying to fit in and I’m mostly, completely done at this point.  I’ve been the nerd memorizing REM songs.

We are all the same, social creatures and we want very much to belong. To feel understood.

But at what cost?

I am more interested in real connection.

Eventually, I got me some friends who don’t mind that I screw up punchlines and misquote the lyrics to “Hey Ya.”

But as C.S. Lewis points out in this ridiculously obtuse lecture, all that really matters is that you become exceptionally good at your craft; the rest is unfortunately bullshit.

I want to write, so here I am. And I want to make your life better with the stuff that I make.

Do you have any ideas about how I could do that? Please find a way to let me know.

May Your Lyrics Flow Freely !

p.s. What’s cooler than being cool? ….