You're born. Helpless as all get out; sucking on a teat; half blind, bald, noisy and useless. A few years later, you have hair. You're still noisy and useless, but at least that off-putting soft spot is smothered in something more substantial than baby smell. (You're also likely off the tit. If not, way to go, fella.) End of Chapter One.
Chapter Two. You're in school, probably for the next twenty years. By the time this chapter is writ & over, you won't even recall being helpless and noisy. But you will still be nearly useless. (That is nature's way. Don't blame me.)
Chapter Three sees you embark on a wondrous journey through marriage, procreation, divorce and depression -- not necessarily in that order. These will not be the best years of your life. (Spoiler alert: you've already spent those happy bucks back in Chapter Two. You were simply too young -- getting high, getting fucked, laughing and carrying on -- to realize that the good times were about to come to a screeching halt.)
Chapter Four is basically the same as Chapter Three... except that now you can smell yourself, despite the frequent showers. Oh, yeah: this is also when people you know begin to drop dead with alarming frequency. With any luck, you've put away a bob or two for Chapter Five.
Chapter Five looks long, but that is because your eyes are nearly kaput. Chapter Five is really quite short. As is your breathing. And your dwindling physical stature. Your mind is no longer suited for the rigors of daily work. Instead, you spend most of your waking hours attempting to recall your name. Your prostate is the size of a canned ham; you have managed to misplace your teeth, likely for the fifth time in twenty-four hours; and that ringing in your ears? Why, it's the school bell! And you are in Grade Seven again, sporting a chubby for Mary Lou Plumtree. (Did I mention that the only people you interact with on a consistent basis are medical personnel, paramedics, and the hosts of TV game shows? Yes, I did, you forgetful old bastard.)
From this point on, it is all Epilogue. In some books, you might be reincarnated. Lucky you.
Next time, we will examine satire, sarcasm and tone of voice.
2 comments:
Hef seems to be doing his own version of chapter 5 at the Playboy mansion, but I'm not convinced he's finding it any more enjoyable.
I sometimes wish my own book would have ended, tragically yet heroically (and with a decent buzz on), near the end of Chapter Two.
Now I'm clinging to the book's dust jacket, thinking of soup.
Post a Comment