Oh oh…just fifty two days…that’s one thousand forty hours or nearly four million seven hundred thousand single tick tocks on a clock away from 2010. It has to happen! Harley Davidson, Ford, Black and Decker and Crest toothpaste have already unveiled their hot new line beyond two double oh nine.
Not my favorite time of year!
Like leaves on a tree, humans are expected to brighten up their limbs and stems in blinding yellows, outrageous oranges and unforgettable reds then suddenly become dry leaving hordes of bad habits behind on the ground—which usually ends up being tightly shoved into a 36 inch by 24 inch plastic box with a nifty lid that clicks like Tupperware…then poof…life is back to being good.
I am a bill collector. I never throw away statements and or expectations. Doctors, dentists, mall stores, veterinarians, credit card and cable television companies are in business to do one thing…rip people off. By collecting every white storm sent via snail mail, I have a fighting chance to prove that every agreement was met. As neatly as I place them in their proper folders then protect them from possible damage in a plastic box…those finger slicing business envelopes resemble the basement of a freaky library where the dusty books dating back a billion years are stacked to the ceiling with barely a ray of light available to feed starving vegetation on the Appalachian Trail…
It would be incredibly easy to scan the statements then store them in digital form on disc drives they swear can’t be filled—only to hear the other side of my Cancer driven personality when it wakes at two, three and five, “I forgot to back up the system!” One fear feeds another and that’s not a safe place to be.
My mother gave me the wrong name at birth. What in God’s name is an Arroe compared to a nice solid Para Noid Collins. Names should paint your personality. That’s another one of my bad habits—I’ll sit staring at you wondering where along the time line someone felt you were to grow up and become a Billy, Freddi or Michael Thomas III. Louis VIII must have been totally torched. “I could’ve been Sha-meeka! Why didn’t someone call me Kanye?”
Bad Habit Arroe would’ve been quite fitting. Each year we’re blessed with three hundred sixty five days to pull from the center of our budding roses a situation that’s become darkened by the elements that which make up a habit. Problem is there are some pretty cool habits you just can’t dump—the only reason why I put ink into the veins of a clean sheet of white paper every morning before sunrise has nothing to do with writing books…it’s a fifteen year old habit. I’m a firm believer that being a martial artist for most has a lot to do with a walk of life…not me, too many popcorn balls and desires not to eat bushels of carrots and celery…I feel horribly guilty when I’m not drugging my body with human made endorphins…if the mind, body and soul aren’t getting their daily rush…the habit takes over...chocolate.
What the heck is the best way to drown a bad habit?
It begins with a willingness to change. Not an attempt to restrain but a full fledged give it all you’ve got eyes in the mirror agreement that says, “Um…dude, like can we do a little communicating?”
Dieters gain their weight back. In the new People Magazine Tim McGraw tells readers in the same sentence, “I’ve never smoked before in my life…but when I drank alcohol I’d smoke a few.” Make up your mind!
The will to change is a commanding effort that allows experimenting with change acceptable. Not only is it difficult but it features more backsliding than hitting the tracks backwards on Thunder Road at Carowinds. The best way to get up and over a wall is to deflect your attention from the habit.
I do something horribly illegal during the deflection period. After ten to twelve hours within the deep hallowed halls of radio these size eleven feet go totally bare in a class filled with others chasing Tae Kwon Do aspirations. You can always tell when I don’t want to be there…I pick fights…not with students but class leaders. The challenge against them deflects my need to bolt. While they shove evil empire chi energy toward my presentation, I turn around and use it as a match to spark a new flame. Once I’m up…life is great! Very bad habit. Nothing new…been upsetting the masses since the mother figure brought me into a family of eight. Survival is everything at the kitchen table. If need be, I’d take on the dog for a little action to stimulate my crashing willingness to be anything but down. Bad habit!
And now…the reason why I drink so much water! Drum roll please!
An old trick taught by Dr. William J Knaus—drinking water takes the urge to perform a bad habit and makes it totally invisible. When you feel a habit coming on, take two sips of ice cold water and it totally wipes out the feeling of stepping off the path.
Before doctors had high prices and plenty of drugs to calm your nerves…we fended for ourselves, in some cases, those who challenged the beast became famous. Actor Jim Carrey couldn’t have said it better last week on Conan O’Brian, “If doctors would have diagnosed him with having A.D.D. as a child, he wouldn’t be the Jim we know today.”
The funniest people on earth from Robin Williams to Rosanne Barr no longer hide behind walls of discouragement fed by ample rivers of depression and addiction. They took their bad habits and turned them into outlets of creative flow.
I often wonder how many perfectly designed garages or front yard flower gardens are created by an open agreement to feed the roots of a very bad habit. Those perfected front lawns or clothing styles we wear are in essence an outlet to break free from something bad happening.
Habits are like opinions and bums…we all have one. Sadly, you can get away with having several habits and opinions but the second you develop another bum which looks nothing like your birth bum…now we have a million bum reasons to create more bad habits.
Can you win this war? Depends on if you truly are willing to change. We can start today or wait fifty two days…that’s one thousand forty hours or nearly four million seven hundred thousand single tick tocks on a clock until 2010.
Getting back to living…steal my art.
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
No comments:
Post a Comment