Circumstantial flummery from a would-be spoonbean hustler.

drivetime activities

A lot of my best thinking is done in the car on the way home to work. Sometimes I just do music really loud. Classical music is a lot of fun, because it really pulls the stress out of me and really quickly I start to catch myself relaxing. Also, I love the confusion that occurs when you roll up on a stop light blaring Handel’s Messiah or Beethoven’s 5th. People think an action movie’s about to break out.

Sometimes I work on my impressions. I have a tough time keeping the Joisey in my Bugs Bunny. Repetition helps. This is usually punctuated with me cursing at people that don’t know how to drive. Which is most everyone on the Interstate 40 between 4-7PM. So I end up hurling obscenities in Bugs’ voice. My Bugs isn’t really that good, but I persevere. When I’m not cursing them to the black depths of hell, I do my thinking. If I’m in a good mood I bust out my drumsticks which are tucked under the driver’s side shade and I play along with the music. I don’t actually know how to play drums, and any rhythm I may appear to possess is questionable, but tapping out the lines in ‘La Grange’ is pretty therapeutic.

Lately I’ve been trying to work out some dialogue for N&D- which means I end up talking to myself a lot. The conversations weave in and out of spoken and unspoken. I’ll say something in my head and answer out loud. As long as I’m working on a script, I think this is fine, I have an excuse. My experience with writing problems has shown me that if I’m explaining a problem to someone (even if it is my own fictional character) out loud a solution may present itself.

This is all well and good, because there’s a purpose. But I’m still talking to myself. And sometimes… Sometimes I just have conversations. One of these days you may roll up on me having an argument with Bugs about the pronunciation of hasenpfeffer. But you can’t prove a damn thing.