Did Free to Be You and Me have an impact?
Maybe it was because I had to watch Brian’s Song five hundred times?
I could go all astrology and blame my swimming fishes or say it has something to do with living up to the meaning of my first name, or believe Shrinky’s theory that psychobabble knowledge has wormed its way into my psyche, but somehow I reckon it has more to do with recognising outcasty things within myself. I Like to think everyone has felt out of place at some point in their life, even if it was for two minutes in a dentist’s chair or Gyno’s office, and I must ooze that somehow I can relate, or offer some kind of support, to the downtrodden.
Which brings me to this.
This person I occasionally work with has incredible BO–the kind that make your eyes water and nose crave a sinus infection. Since I’m a person who can actually talk to ‘Stinky’, the general consensus in my office is I should be able to tell ‘Stinky’ about the odour that lingers heavily long after the body departs the room. I can get as far as telling ‘Stinky’ there’s a crusty one hanging out of the cliff dwelling and hand over a tissue, but as far as mentioning the words Speed Stick or Lynx, I generally just open a window.
My co-workers have suggested, since I have this so-called Paul Youngish love of the common people, I should be the one to tell ‘Stinky’ he stinks.
Just HOW does one mention or suggest this tactfully? This wasn’t part of any After School Special I saw. There was no School House Rock for this. Judy Blume didn’t write a book covering this topic. What would Flipper, Lassie or Skippy the Bush Kangaroo do? Why does my mind revert to Pop culture?
I am totally unprepared and I feel strangely like an outcast…Maybe I should embrace morning TV?
One thought on “Living the Love of the Common People…”
I suggest an anonymous bar of soap and can of Right Guard delivered by Fed Ex.