(no subject)
"Make something up," says smille. I know it was just his gently self-effacing way, but it particularly struck me because I look at this guy, the all-American ad executive, living in the Midwest with his lovely wife and passel of absolutely gorgeous kids (kids so cute they should clearly be rationed one to a family) in a cozy little house, passing the collection plate on Sundays (or whatever it is that young church elders do) and I think that he did make it up. I don't mean it's a lie, not at all. But I think that somewhere, sometime, way back when Scott was taking a walk or lying in bed and he decided, "This is the road I am going to take, the man I am going to be." Most people go through life blindly, looking no further than the dust scuffed up by their toes. I think he is not one of them.
Of course, I could be completely wrong about that. Here is what I do know for sure. While I have a number of clever and amusing friends here, smille is the only one who ever made me spit diet Coke all over my computer screen. I think he was coming up with ad ideas for an absorbent bra, after I had a girl-meets-drink episode at the deli. He called me once, at work, completely out of the blue, and I thought it was an old friend of mine. Just a trick of intonation, and yet it fits with the way I feel about him in general. He's not an old friend of mine. It just feels that way.
Of course, I could be completely wrong about that. Here is what I do know for sure. While I have a number of clever and amusing friends here, smille is the only one who ever made me spit diet Coke all over my computer screen. I think he was coming up with ad ideas for an absorbent bra, after I had a girl-meets-drink episode at the deli. He called me once, at work, completely out of the blue, and I thought it was an old friend of mine. Just a trick of intonation, and yet it fits with the way I feel about him in general. He's not an old friend of mine. It just feels that way.