Mundane

So, my question of the week, of the month or of a lifetime is what is with the adage, “look on the bright side” or “look for the beauty in life.” What about the simple, stupid, and banal? If you don’t seek that which is commonplace what luck do you have to recognize anything above it? Look at any issue of Cosmopolitan, one hundred and one ways to love your lover or leave your lover or cook for your lover or something along those lines. I must say that should come after the article entitled, “How to Spot a Clean Man to be Your Lover.” Let’s concentrate on getting one that doesn’t appall us the moment we’re done with the hoochie. This is the practical, and often boring, side of life but an important one. What about navel lint? Should you really date a man with navel lint? Its logical if a man pays attention to that small, unassuming hole located in the lower middle abdominal wall and has no use whatsoever, then he’s going to pay attention to other matters of hygiene. I would also suggest paying careful attention to the toenails, as what part of the male anatomy is going to be looked at least, unless you have a fetish for such things. With practicality comes boredom and a certain irritation for conversations that are as stimulating as watching paint flake. By that measure, we are all in the same boat, kinsmen in a rowing competition across the endless sea of life having nothing more to look forward to than death. I’ll not postulate about the existence of life after death, reincarnation, yin, yang, karma, and nirvana, let’s just stick to death, whether emotional, physical or spiritual, eventually it will happen and you may still be breathing. No one wants to be part of the crowd or normal anymore, that’s why we compete, but in a race that’s going to end the same way, time after time. Imagine though if you were a kernel of corn, nestled tightly in your cob with a hundred other unfortunate blokes and you have been left to plump beyond full, losing your pleasing texture and sweetness, like Great-Aunt Rosemary who really let herself go after she whelped her third brat and now wears polyester and pets her facial hair over the soup. That fuzzy little moustache is going to be the last thing you see before she slams you into her buck teeth, ripping you from your moorings and if you’re lucky, you’ll dribble out of the corner of her mouth, onto her generous bosom, and she’ll remember you as she scrubs away your stain. An ear of corn is a simple concept that can bring about the most banal of exchanges. Do you, for example, eat your corn side to side or around? Who cares? Who cares whether its named Silver Queen, Golden King, Queer Charles or Sister Mary Goldeneye? A farmer, that’s who. A farmer who would carefully explain the differences between the types of corn and why the Silver Queen suddenly developed a “goldeneye” kernel, which would be due to cross-pollination with a Golden King. Hanky-panky in the cornfield, makes me wonder what Indian corn cross-pollinated with. What about the slogan “Dare to be Different?” That’s not really hard to do as we’re all different. How about, “Dare to be Mundane?” Some people would find it difficult to be ordinary and normal, your’s truly included. How would you classify something as “different” anyway? Think hard about what would shock you or you would deem to be “different” from everything else, the norm, if such a thing exists. Is simply being mundane different? Is watching sunsets and reciting the phrase, “red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky in the morning, sailors warning” as mundane or as different as looking for rainbows in oil puddles, playing in the rain or singing in the shower? It seems as though everything has to have a purpose or its not worth doing. I disagree. I’m tired of looking for a forest in a book of matches, a wildfire in a candle flame, and love from a simple smile. I will blow dandelion seeds and expect to see dandelions, play in the rain and expect to be wet. I will find rainbows in oil puddles and recite stupid sayings at sunsets. I will pick ripe corn from the garden, and carve pumpkins at Halloween. I will be boring and simple, commonplace and normal, banal and practical, just like always and the beauty and brightness, the difference it makes, will come with it.