Thoughts on Awesomeness, Skateboards, and Hookers

I wish I had learned how to skateboard. That thought occurred to me while cutting up 5th Ave in Brooklyn the other day. "I wish I had learned how to skateboard." Nothing incredibly fancy, it would just be nice to have an alternate form of transport other than fast feet. You see, I never learned how to ride a bike; and though I am a resoundingly fast walker (even faster if I'm listening to The Mars Volta), the idea of being on wheels, of being faster, flashier, more appealing to the opposite sex, and defying to certain enemies, just seems really cool.

In the days leading up to the talk show, I found myself in a state of quiet fanaticism; trying to cover all my bases. You know, because everything had to be perfect. And yet, I've realized that nothing will ever be perfect. Not with this show. Not how I envisioned it to be. That may sound pessimistic, but let me follow-up by stating that the first show was actually a huge success and we'll be posting footage by the end of the week. To top that, I also made a decent profit and nearly sold-out the house. I can now say I've successfully produced a late night talk (suck it, Fallon). But, as I was making a few omelets the next day for myself and the trio of Canadian escorts I slept with, I realized that even what I produced was the best I could do. And, I was actually okay with that.

In a year where I lost my hair, my youth cred, and even a certain amount of my emotional well-being, things have finally seemed to piece together. Through consistent effort - and actually learning to enjoy myself - I pulled something big off. What is weird is that it happened in less than ideal circumstances. But then again, what ever does? Why is that - completely out of left field - we actually figure it out, a bit? It makes me think that it's always fine to dream and hope, but don't close out your options. Similarly, never assume a hooker from Toronto accepts VISA.

So, in the end, whatever seems cool for you may just end up being your toolish ego. Don't think too much about "What if...?" Because "What if...?" will rarely spoon you at the end of the night and make you feel like somebody. Oh, yes, and one last thing: buy American. (hint).