The art of blowing stuff up
Sometimes the status quo can leave you feeling like a decrepit Latin
A tweet from a friend got me to thinking, and we all know how scary that is. Anyway, here’s the tweet.
So a camel, George Carlin and your 19-year-old self walk into a bar …
I have no idea where the joke would go from there, but at some point Carlin would have to ask the camel, “If you took a drama queen to a Dairy Queen, would that make her a dromedary queen?”
(You can almost hear Carlin rolling over in his grave, which is really impressive when you consider that he was cremated. Did you know the cremation rate is over 50% in the U.S. and 95% in places like Japan and Thailand? It’s a little known fact that the guy who played Cliff Clavin on “Cheers” was not cremated. That’s fortunate, since he is still alive.)
We should have blown up the whole thing after “So,” shouldn’t we?
There’s an old saying: “a camel is a horse designed by a committee,” and that’s how ugly things can get if you don’t blow stuff up. If a camel were on Tinder, it would probably use a picture of a horse.
Maybe the answer to Sophia’s question lies in this Carlin routine about our treasured belongings (our “stuff”) and how sometimes they have to compete for space with someone else’s treasures (their “shit”).
If you’re thinking about a radical change in your life, how would you describe it? Are you blowing up stuff — or shit?
While you’re at it, another question: Would you trust your major life decisions to a 19-year-old? Oh, and a followup: Are you sure that’s not what you did?
Lots of 19-year-olds (more or less) either choose a career or a major that leads to a career — and adult friendships. Each year you travel down that path, you’re more dependent on that 19-year-old’s judgment. And it becomes harder to blow stuff up.
Say you’re 25 and have been dating someone for two years. If you break up, it’ll hurt and you might lose some friendships with couples as collateral damage, but you’re only a metaphoric mile from regrouping. Not that being unattached is a joy, either, but you can get back to it relatively simply.
But if you live together, add another mile. Buy a house? Add two miles. Marry? Four miles. Kids? Oy vey. If you’re happy, those are wonderful milestones. If not, they can feel like millstones.
Once you pass a certain age, the “blow stuff up” strategy is mostly to cut your losses — not because you expect things to magically get better. Whether you’re replacing a defective hip or a deceptive spouse, you don’t want to do it unless you’re dealing with an unbearable pain in the ass.
Auguste Rodin walks into the bar and approaches the 19-year-old. “Be a thinker and a sculptor,” he says.
People choose paths because of parental pressure, peer pressure, bad relationships, bad advice. Sometimes they’re running away from something (or someone), but that doesn’t lead them to anything. Rather than blowing stuff up, they’ll spend years trying to rationalize their mistake, following a path that will never make them happy.
After your inner 19-year-old picked your path, how long were you meandering before you questioned it? Two years? Great! Two decades? Great Scott!
A fan of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” walks into the bar and throws a roll of toilet paper.
What if you are a thinker who questioned things every couple of years and didn’t choose a career because of parental pressure or get married out of desperation, but things still don’t feel right?
You might want to blow everything up, but try a little sculpting first. It’s easy to get disillusioned when you’re young and life isn’t exactly rolling out the red carpet for you, but maybe what you’re seeing as a serious problem is just a flying roll of toilet paper.
Suppose you hate your job. Why? If you hate the work and don’t see anything attractive in your company or the industry, by all means blow it up.
But if you just hate your boss, maybe you can sculpt your way out of it. Can you apply for a transfer, get a mentor, develop a skill that makes you the company expert in something? If you work for a smart company, your boss either has some qualities you might learn to appreciate or is an idiot who will get weeded out soon.
Either way, patience might save you from a bunch of shrapnel.
Charles Darwin walks into the bar. What did you expect him to do? Crawl?
Often we need to unlearn things that came from people we respected, like parents and teachers. I’ve known writers who’ve spent decades treating a professor’s guideline as gospel, rather than stopping to think about whether the language has evolved — or they have.
Sometimes evolution means forgiving ourselves, too. Even if you made all the right decisions at the time, they may have turned out wrong because circumstances changed — anything from technology upending an industry to a spouse outgrowing a marriage.
Learn from that. Blowing stuff up might no longer be practical for you, but evolution always is. Just because your primary path has a spouse and a boss and a kid and a talking camel doesn’t mind you can’t still find some lovely vistas that are all your own.
This joke is so long that the 19-year-old is now a 21-year-old, who orders a drink and is immediately hit by a flying object. “Was that shrapnel?!”
“Just toilet paper, kid,” the camel replies. “It comes in real handy if you blow shit up.”
Murphy Slaw
Something old: Movie fans should get a kick out of this thread. I know I did.
Something new: This squirrel couldn’t make it through the column without a drink. Perfectly understandable.
Something borrowed: Sometimes all you need is a good boss.
Something blue: If you can remember only three numbers this weekend, make it these: 988. That’s the shortened phone number for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, starting Saturday. The traditional number — 800-273-TALK (8255) — will remain active indefinitely.