1. Thursday, August 22, 2002

    i know i might come across 

    as a tough guy with no feelings, no heart, no pride, impenetrable, filled with insight and joie de vive with telephones ringing all night so much so that the batteries die forcing the girls to drive to the bachelor pad, use their master key and climb in bed with me in the wee hours startling me and then soothing with a gentle caress and sleep-inducing hug.

    but it’s not like that all the time.

    sometimes i do get hurt and i sleep alone and i don’t pick up the phone and i wake up hot chickless with a saki hangover a sore quadricep and too many radios blaring commercials with only the solace of a tall glass of pulp free minute maid and the promise of a long hot shower to the dulcet sounds of led zeppelins “your time is gonna come” flowing from the sony sports boom box and my tears like the sand of last nights softball game slide down the drain of the yellow painted bathtub collect in the sewers of hollywood and parade into the deep blue pacific where they belong.

    i don’t like to be treated as second best.

    especially when i was always there for you.

    its not easy to live my life and ive been rejected now some half dozen times this summer and im glad its fall.

    all year long i look forward to the summertime but what for when we all live in southern california where it never rains and only the pages turn on the calendar while the weather stays exactly the same.

    i don’t like being said maybe to while they pretend that the maybe part of the maybe actually exists. maybe i’ll get this proposal done this week, maybe i’ll clean up my closets, maybe my dreams will come true, maybe my princess will come.

    maybe is the lie that the devil whispers when you look from the stands at the cheerleader girl who may or may not have a date to the dance and at halftime you build up the courage to approach her next to the grandstands while the marching band plays and you ask her if she’ll go with you.

    maybe is the lie that she tells you.

    and i have no idea why i want to be seen as number one on the lineup card playing shortstop and always given the green light to steal, but i want that and i feel i have earned it and if i haven’t i will steal it back rightfully or i’ll join the yankees and make you wish you’d never dissed me.