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It amazes me the ways people can make money. By no means, am I money obsessed. I like having money though. I love watching those shows about how rich people got rich it just amazes me. They always get rich doing or making good use of the everyday
Like pay parking lots. It’s ridiculous to pay $8-$20 for a parking spot. It’s crazy! We’ve all done it and we’ll do it again, sadly. Just like burial plots. You invest in real estate you can’t build on. I think today I’m going to have a tool shed or a dog house built on my plot. You bought it! All 6x4 feet belongs to you! It may be a narrow shed, but it would be a good place for some shovels, literally. The way people manage to make money astounds me. Like the Big Bopper’s family for example. They have an XL slightly used casket for sale on eBay. I may think about buying a slightly used car not a slightly used casket. The Big Bopper died in 1959. His family wanted to make sure he was really dead so they dug him up. Surprise, surprise he was dead! They bought him a new casket. The old one is steel with slight water damage and they’ve thrown in Big Bopper juice for free. That’s just nasty. Slightly Used Casket for Sale
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I have joined the weigh station again. That’s what I now call Weight Watchers. I have to face the fact that, that is my support group. I just wished we’d sit in a circle and say, “Hello, my name is Charlie.” Then the group responds, “Hello, Charlie!” Each week I go in to seek approval from the scales.
I have told myself again that this time I sticking with it. You’d think I’d figure out that I’m a liar. I have done well. I have eaten a lot of 0 point foods. (If you don’t know about Weight Watchers everything has a point. If you get the most points you don’t win it just means you’re fatter and need points to live.) I have been drinking at least ½ gallon of water a day. I’ve burned a tremendous amount of calories looking for bathrooms. This evening I went to the gym. You can tell it’s important to me because I forgot my number. I spent 20 minutes trying to look cool at the keypad by the door secretly hoping someone would come out so I could slip in. Of course they didn’t. I spotted a free treadmill and got it cranking. I notice home girl across the gym running on hers sideways, and the sweaty red headed man beside her running like I do at 4:59 at the all-you-can-eat-buffet to get the supper menu for the lunch price. My fear was just getting out down by a senior citizen. I think I’m going to bed and have Ben and Jerry Dreams. Is it just me or does anyone else hate the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” people still ask me that. I think it’s because I have a baby face. Whenever I was asked that question I felt like I was obligated to a stupendous answer. My answer should be tailored to suit some moral cause like. When I grow up I want to be a doctor. What if you answered that question honestly as a kid? When I grow up I want to be a bum! When I grow up I want to pump gas for a living, have two ex-wives, and consider a 1974 airstream travel trailer a retirement investment. Really, if we all became doctors, like we said we were, free healthcare wouldn’t be a debate.
I have been wondering lately if dreams really come true. Is there a dream too big? What constitutes a quality dream? Why are we so quick to look at people funny with lofty dreams? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, but I think they’re good questions. When I was little… (Let me say younger here because I was never little) I wanted to be a movie star. (Stop laughing! It’s not that funny!) I did want to be a movie star. I wanted the red carpet and the academy award. Really, it wasn’t about the acting just the recognition. Then, I came to my senses, and I wanted to be a country singer. That’s a dream that’s always stuck with me. I would love to be a country singer. I would be an old school country singer. I would have clothes that looked like they should be battery operated. I would sing true to life honky tonk songs about lost loves and dead dogs. I think that would be awesome! Somewhere in there that doesn’t seem so realistic. Maybe because I really can’t sing, I have guitar and a mandolin, and a stack of books, two DVDs on how to play them and it still takes me 20 minutes to find “G.” My grandmother always wanted me to be a preacher, teacher, or missionary. She would quiz me by asking that ill fated question often, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I think I want to joine the circus! She would say, “No you don’t! Only homeless people join the circus!” When I mentioned country singer she would pucker and whisper, “No you don’t! That would mean you have a drinking problem. Pick again.” I would think. You know, being a psychologist would be neat. Her reply, “Lord God, you know psychologist don’t love Jesus.” What was I to dream? The more I think about dreams I think about the American spirit. Tocqueville said that the American lives in the land of wonders. It was filled with wonders because people dared to dream. The reality of tomorrow is based on someone’s dream today. The one thing about dreams, however, is nowhere does it say pursuing them will be easy. Dare to dream because people don’t always know what they’re talking about! |
AuthorCharlie McCoin is an actor, comedian and writer from Nashville, Tennessee. He brings his unique style of comedy to the stage using clever wit and southern charm. He's performed all over the country from Nashville to Chicago to Los Angeles and a few living rooms in between. He's also an accomplished actor, which means he's auditioned a lot. ArchivesCategories
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