People that know me are aware I suffer from low self-esteem, which is a hard throw for someone expected to pitch 600 words over home plate every week about the state of our union and those “aha!” moments we all share in life. I do it in the hopes you’ll be moved to take out your BIC lighter and wave it as a light against the darkness or help someone save a stitch in time or join a village and raise a child--- all of which I can’t do because I lack the confidence.
It is February, the month in which the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born. He wrote “Evangeline” which contains a beautiful line that describes Evangeline as she walks by-- “When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.” Recently I gave a speech in a nearby city and a man came up to me and said “Thanks for coming. It’s just hard to get a good speaker on a week night”. Which made me wince, as though the music didn’t cease so much as maybe I killed it.
Perhaps they’d tried to get Newt Gingrich to come and throw down a handful of bones and tell the future of America but they failed and got me. I like to think that even if Longfellow showed up to speak they’d have said, “Thanks, Henry. We tried to get Tom Brokaw but he wanted a boatload of money and a hotel suite. Can you believe that—a hotel suite for God’s sake!? ”
My speech was entitled “ The Greatest Tree House There Ever Was” which has baseball, sex, cigarettes and a little piano playing in it but at 45 minutes it’s a bit long. However the people were real troopers and no one threw anything at me but could you blame them if they did? The economy is sagging like my jowls and you see men in white shirts and ties throwing dice in back alleys and front yards have FOR SALE signs in them and you feel so much pain for these people. You want to stop and hug them but no one wants a short guy with self-esteem problems putting his arms around you in the driveway unless he’s a buyer with approved credit carrying a check book.
I almost spoke on “A Problem---Low Self-Esteem” but I know people with high self-esteem and they’re like a biblical plague. They swarm in malls, airports and government buildings screaming into their cell phones, they have less self-doubt than a male moose during a rut, all stomping around and rattling their antlers for show.
I wish I’d written that line “When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.” That is such a beautiful thought and what has Joe Biden ever said in twelve words that moved you so deeply you heard soothing music, remembered beautiful women and imagined yourself a wonderful lover though you actually had the moves of a woodchuck.
Out of suffering comes beauty and Longfellow had his share with losing two wives unexpectedly and dying a painful death from severe inflammation of his stomach. Nevertheless he was brilliant and wrote “Hiawatha” the first poem I ever read.
So you can sit around in sorrow and worry about the economy or you can ponder the idea of lovely women, wonderful music and the future of Newt Gingrich. As for me, I’m thinking about changing my show with a new speech “Find Fulfillment in Chinchilla Farming”. I’m open right now to bookings in March through June. Fees are negotiable and I can sleep in the car.
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