I’ve been reading all my life. Literally since I was 3 1/2. My love affair with words and reading ultimately transferred to a love of writing. But what if life was different? What if I didn’t have to consider phobias, limitations or lack of training? What would I be?
I have a very healthy respect for life and the living, but sometimes, people get outta pocket and they gotta go. I’d be totally high end and have my own code of ethics. No kids under any circumstances. I’d also want to handle my business up close and personal as often as possible. None of that sniping from a rooftop jazz. And my assassins kit would make Batman envious. My most prized possession would be a grappling hook. The two drawbacks to being an assassin: 1. Thanks to pesky advancements in DNA matching, I’d probably have to get rid of the fro; and 2. I’d never be able to tell anyone about all the dope stuff I did. “Son…SON…they were in the middle of dinner, and I dropped from the ceiling!”
Few activities put the raw power of nature on display like surfing does. To be fair, I can’t think of anything that displays nature’s force and man’s insignificance at that magnitude. When I see someone shoot the curl, I’m awestruck. They’re being embraced by a miracle. Mr. Fowler, my 7th grade Life Science teacher and crush, was a surfer and told this amazing story about a giant sea turtle coming up for air next to him. He explained how awe-inspiring the experience was and how he realized how small he was in the grand scheme of things. I would love to surrender to such a powerful element on a regular basis. I can’t imagine you’d view life the same afterward.
I can’t tell you how much I want to run in a room screaming “WHERE BROOKLYN AT? WHERE BROOKLYN AT? WHERE BROOKLYN AT? WHERE BROOKLYN AT?” How does a job get better than that? You run in, make people happy, get them amped and encourage your people performing. Hype men don’t even have to have bars. Just energy. You get to dance and make ill scrunch faces and go mostly everywhere your far more popular cohort does. Win-win.
Feeding people is one of my favorite hobbies. That’s not what I mean. I’m referring to people who take food and create art; something that appeals to the palate, as well as aesthetically. It would be dope to create dishes which look more like organic sculpture than something you eat. Being delicious would be what sends my creations over the top. I tweet a lot, and we joke about what people call “struggle plates.” I would have a picture gallery that looked like the Edible Louvre.
Sometimes, you need to go in the cage and get it all off your chest. A well placed punch is a thing of beauty. The same thing can be said for a punch that is well received. Weird? Watch a person take a punch and remain standing. It’s a testament of will. I’d be totally scrappy. I’m pretty sure my cage name would be something simian…Spider Monkey? Just wiry, flexible and in your face. Kicking your ass.
When I was about 12, long before it was a cool thing for girls in the hood to do, I had a board. I also had no coordination. Needless to say, I wasn’t an avid skater. But on the rare occasions that I got it right…magic. Wind in my hair, swerving ever so slightly, my whole body working in harmony to keep me balanced, the pit bull that barked at me causing me to miss the rock in the path of my wheel…pure magic before that, though. However cliche it may be that kids have adopted being skaters, it’s an awesome hobby.
Harley is my favorite character in the Gotham Universe, outside of The Bat himself. Of course Harley is a fictitious creature, but this is my blog, homie. I have a little mayhem buried deep in my soul (or…maybe not so deep, depending on your point of view). Though Harley seems like the Joker’s pawn, beneath the surface, she’s bright, capable and a willing partner in his schemes. Do you know how awesome my life would be if I could solve 30% of my problems with a giant mallett? On top of that, I’d be able to knock out another 30% with gas. I could dispatch with 20% using my superior intellect and grappling hook (yes…I would have a grappling hook here too). The other 20%, I could easily maneuver around. Who couldn’t be happy when 80% of their problems are gone? Every girl has a little hell raiser in her soul. I’d just let mine out of the box more often. Practically always, really.
But after all is said and done, I couldn’t imagine doing any of this awesomeness without penning a memoir near the end of it. I guess writing is my destiny after all.