Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Whew. Not to worry, I am just playing on the mood swingset and will refrain from operating heavy machinery. Luckily for everyone the self-pity has left the building. An hour on the elliptical machine at the gym and a few hours of therapy does wonders for your complexion. That and a $20 haircut. Besides, life beckons and giving up is too easy. Times like these I like to find inspiration in various heroes like David Sedaris’ brother, The Rooster.
“‘The Rooster’ is what Paul calls himself when he’s feeling threatened. Asked how he came up with that name, he says only, ‘Certain motherfuckers think they can fuck with my shit, but you can’t kill the Rooster. You might can fuck him up sometimes, but, bitch, nobody kills the motherfucking Rooster. You know what I’m saying?’
…My brother politely ma’ams and sirs all strangers but refers to friends and family, his father included, as either ‘bitch’ or ‘motherfucker’. Friends are appalled at the way he speaks to his only remaining parent. The two of them once visited my sister Amy and me in New York City, and we celebrated with a dinner party. When my father complained about his aching feet, the Rooster set down his two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew and removed a fistful of prime rib from his mouth, saying, ‘Bitch, you need to have them ugly-ass bunions shaved down is what you need to do. But you can’t do shit about it tonight, so lighten up, motherfucker.’”
