Stalkings Of An Insanity Clause By The Chimney With Care

Americans are obsessed with fame, which they see as a passport to emotional well being, validation, respect, better tables at restaurants, wealth, improved dating options, and immortality. This perspective is jejune, puerile, naïve, and stupid. Fame is very different than what one imagines, as I have discovered since joining the Healthy Place team and penning my delightful weekly mental health humor blog, “Funny In The Head”.

Prior to joining Healthy Place I was an aspiring poet, novelist, memoirist, cartoonist and Taz Mopulist marooned in obscurity; stitching and unstitching my agonized, overwrought, self-indulgent verbal constructions with the sort of doom and fatalism usually reserved for reading novels by J.P. Sartre. Family members frequently posted my first driver’s license photo on milk cartons with the melancholic question, “Have You Seen Me?” I could have made a tidy sum consulting for the FBI’s Witness Protection Program.

The instant celebrity imposed upon me by my status as a Healthy Place columnist changed all that. Today I cannot go to the post office without a horde of fans and admirers dogging my every step, shrieking like a flock of demented loons. My attempts to outwit these devotees always fail; the other day I went to the dumpster with a bag of trash and two of them popped up suddenly, creating a rather disturbing impression of what a life sized Jack in the box might look like. Privacy, dear reader, is the first casualty of fame, with peace of mind following quickly on its heels.

One curious aspect of being an international celebrity is that people are always asking if you want things; they desperately seek opportunities to do favors. (I find this bizarre since the famous usually have their basic needs well met. It seems to me these well-meaning souls would be better off locating the unknown and forgotten – whose needs are limitless. But I digress.)

Today, while walking my dog through the thick marshes known locally as Moose Hollow, I was ambushed by a fan who, calling down from the top of a white pine, asked what I wanted for Christmas. I thought at length about it on my way back home and realized that there is no material thing I lack. However, there are some events I hope for, some cultural adaptations that would thrill me. So, Santa, without further ado: The Funny In The Head Christmas Gift Wish List:

1. Nobody is allowed to say “awesome” ever again.

2. That little guy from the “gangnam” video needs to vanish, along with all evidence of him.

3. No more talking cats, ever. Cats don’t talk, and if they did, it’s a certainty they wouldn’t have anything interesting to say.

4. Everyone who has ever purchased any sort of “Life Is Good” swag needs to admit that, however one might strive to accept them, there are elements of life that just aren’t that good. Mosquitoes, for example.

5. It is time for all of us to admit publicly that rap is a horrible mistake.

6. Every SUV needs to come equipped with a non-removable bumper sticker that says, “I Don’t Care About The Future Of The Planet”.

7. Quentin Tarantino must apologize for making such repulsive movies.

It’s not much to ask. Merry Christmas everybody!