January 16, 2013
One less novice at the altar of the Western Canon

There I was, itching in anticipation, pens at the ready, wit honed, waiting for the starter’s gun, ready and eager to begin my novel. It was going to be based on Dante’s ditty, La Commedia. I was then going to adapt it for the Broadway stage. If a musical about an Argentinean hooker can run for 30 years this could go for a century.

Alas, it was not to be. Perhaps “Curses! Foiled again” will do.

I was at the critical, toes on the line, “I am born” moment when I learned that Al Roker shit in his pants in the White House.

The after-action report might read “Incontinent bowel in Federal building” but that doesn’t change the fact that Al Roker, America’s favorite non-threatening Negro weatherman, shit in his pants in the White House.

Al, having had a 40 year regimen of endless carbs, lard IV, crème brulee mouth wash, pizza is a food group, Big Mac shampoos, had bariatric lap band surgery.

It worked so well that he shit in his pants in the White House.

Honest.

I hope he was wearing a dark suit. That way, when you shit in your pants in the White House, it will feel good for a while before anyone notices that you shit in your pants in the White House.

There is a certain euphony to the line “I shit in my pants in the White House” that is not to be found “I shit in my pants in the Bada Bing Club”, no?

Someone who shits in his pants at the beginning of a 3 hour plane ride is a man,
literally, to step aside for/from.

But someone who shits in his pants in the White House indeed is a man for all seasons. Finally, the line “as welcome as a fart in church” has been topped.

But then comes word of a New York City subway rider who fell to his death as he was passing between cars because he – You guessed it! – was trying NOT to shit in his pants.

“Halfway through my journey I found myself in the dark wood of error.” That is why I put down my still-born fiction pen’

Yeats was right.

“Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold…
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world…
The ceremony of innocence is drowned.”

Pity.

I had a great idea about a one-legged guy and a whale. Also, uno viejo fishing by himself and a green light across the pond and a….

Who knows where they could have gone?




Kevin Smith
WARRIORBARDIT@BELLSOUTH.NET