Fate and midget strippers

A strange twist of fate brought me back to Atlanta on a business trip only six weeks after starting my new job. I’m utterly objective and scientific-minded most of the time, but sometimes things are just too uncanny for me to not dwell on them a bit. I mean, how many major cities are there in the US that could have potentially hosted the course I attended?

Some insights have been building over the course of my last few visits back to Atlanta:

1. I have realized who the people are that I did not spend nearly enough time with when I lived in Atlanta. If you’re reading this, chances are you’re one of them. Along the lines of “hindsight is 20:20,” I would say that a little bit of distance often provides the perspective you need to really see things clearly. It’s just a shame you can’t see things that way when they’re right in front of your face.

2. Beer and sleep deprivation have a way of allowing the subconscious to emerge.

3. Planning is good, but flexibility is the ultimate virtue. Nothing will ever work out exactly the way you want it to, but if you’re fluid and open to the possibilities in front of you, the potential for happiness and growth are ever-present. Or, as Mick Jagger likes to say, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.”

4. Midget strippers are more bizarre than they are erotic (and they make Wendy look really tall).

5. The original “Rocky” was a great movie in its day, but it’s pretty lame by today’s standards because screenwriters had not yet mastered the fine art of milking emotions by alternating poignancy with humor repeatedly for the last half-hour of a movie. I mean, the ending felt anti-climactic without the drawn-out dance of “I can’t help but empathize with the protagonist in his/her moment of triumph”/ “That was funnier than it would have been otherwise because I was just crying”/ “I am overcome with emotion because my own life lacks the emotional depth of these characters”/ “That makes me laugh and cry at the same time because it was funny in a touching way,” etc. “ADRIAAAAAAAAAAAAN!” while heart wrenching, doesn’t quite capture the drama of the ending in, say, Shrek 2. (For the record, I laughed my ass off at “I’m a real boooooooooooooooy!”)

OK, so the last realization didn’t come in Atlanta. For presentation’s sake, I threw in an earlier realization to create the Hollywood ending that blends insight and humor. Anyone who caught that in real-time gets a bonus point. (Anyone from Atlanta who is reading this and also caught that in real-time is now up by 2 and can just consider themselves the winner—-barring an intentional foul, two missed free throws, and a buzzer-beating three-pointer.) For those of you who prefer raw reality without the salesmanship, you can just end at “Midget strippers are more bizarre than they are erotic.”