“Would you like to swing on a star?

Carry Moonbeams home in a jar?

And be better off than you are?

Or would you rather be a mule?”

            The ability to learn is the most important part of being human. It is inherent, built into our framework. If you do not learn, you are destined to repeat. For those who wallow in their own crapulence, life does the same. The reality is that the process of life is nothing more than a learning curve, and then you die. If there wasn’t teaching, and studying, and recognition, there would be no growth, no change and no evolution. Life would be static and seemingly unmoveable. Some people are born limited. They struggle with their own ignorance regardless of how many years of education any one person might have acquired. Higher learning requires one to actually learn. Some people remain as simple as a woodchuck. An education does not automatically negate the lasting effects on those stupefied by the very act of their genetics. You cannot be a little bit pregnant. Sometimes it comes right down to Stupid is as stupid does. I should polish up my political correctness. I could choose my words with moderation. This would not take away from the fact that some people just don’t have a clue.

“A mule is an animal with long, funny ears

He kicks up at anything he hears

His back is brawny and his brain is weak

He’s just plain stupid with a stubborn streak

And, by the way, if you hate to go to school

You may grow up to be a mule”

            He was stunning and I appreciated that. While I was security on one side, he was bartender on the other. We became friends, at least in a casual sense. He sure was pretty. His solid muscular body, his very handsome face and his general demeanour made him the star attraction in many a gay man’s night. Management was right to put him behind the bar. Sex sells, after all. The entire package of him was what another co-worker called rather “yummy.” I agreed with her completely. Good always comes with the not so good. There is always a price to pay. James was dumber than a tree knot. We had to explain to him how ice was made. He could mix drinks for 10 people, all at the same time, but he couldn’t manage to put his shoes on the right feet. I am unsure if James was aware of his limitations. He struck me as the sort of man who didn’t stop to do anything but brush his teeth. He was shallow and I am sure not only because he was vain. It was like talking to an empty vessel. He was 26, at the time, and he somehow managed to get through a quarter century of existence. You would think that journey might have rubbed off on him. In the end, he was a dull light bulb ready to be changed. He only lasted a few months then the exhibit closed for good. He was gone but so was his beauty. He didn’t leave because he found another job. He didn’t leave to improve himself with an education or training in an apprenticeship. James, an innocent child it seems, left because he was afraid that by working in a gay bar, the gay would rub off on him. I asked him when he shared his fate, “Aren’t you gay?” He replied from outer space, from his otherland.

“Or would you like to swing on a star?

Carry moonbeams home in a jar?

And be better off than you are?

Or would you rather be a pig?

A pig is an animal with dirt on his face

His shoes are a terrible disgrace

He’s got no manners when he eats his food

He’s fat and lazy and extremely rude

But if you don’t care a feather or a fig

You may grow up to be a pig”

            Without some semblance of decorum, we are nothing but animals.  Tell that to my late friend Tammy. She died a few years ago yet somehow the odour remains. She was a hoarder, and a rather dirty one at that. For the 20 years that I knew her, I rarely ever went over to her place. She was embarrassed, humiliated and yet did nothing to rectify the situation. Her home was a pigsty. I have known several other hoarders, including a family member, and their chaos was nothing compared to Tammy’s. It wasn’t just too much furniture, too much stuff. Garbage and filth were everywhere. It got worse every time I climbed over what used to be her living room. At least she didn’t seem to collect her own feces or urine, although I could never be sure what laid under all those piles of debris. I am not sure why I never said anything to her about her quality of living. I suppose, in a clear sense, I was just as embarrassed for her as she was for herself. It was heartbreaking to venture into her world. I never knew what might crawl out of the piles of trash that literally littered the place. At one visit, I thought the floor was moving but it was only a combination of ants and roaches that tricked my senses. The longer her rampage went on, the harder it was to breathe in her place. I suppose the black mould on almost every wall was the culprit. Eventually, any invitation I had to return to the scene met with distance and excuses and disinterest. I still cared for my friend but I could not just keep going, condoning her behaviour and her lifestyle. She definitely needed the help I could not give. Even if she had a mental condition that caused the behaviour, she had other options besides ruminating in her own mess. She had no shame, no sense of pride. I’m not sure if this detachment was the problem or if she was. All I know is that her death was just as messy as her life had been. Her body, like her kitchen floor, filled with foreign invaders. Cancer still grows in a crowded house.

“Or would you like to swing on a star?

Carry moonbeams home in a jar?

And be better off than you are?

Or would you rather be a fish?

A fish won’t do anything but swim in a brook

He can’t write his name or read a book

To fool all the people is his only thought

Though he’s slippery, he still gets caught

But then if that sort of life is what you wish

You may grow up to be a fish

A new kind of jumped-up slippery fish”

            Every word out of his mouth was a complete fabrication. He was a falsehood, even to himself. Throughout the last decade I knew him, he managed to create one drama after another. Always trying, it seemed, to weave something out of nothing. I never really understood to what end. I had no idea why a person would need to do that. Any deduction I made was irrelevant. I could not believe a word that came out of his mouth. One day he had a disease and the next he was getting married. He won money then lost it the very same day. Someone got hurt. Someone always got hurt. Every day of contact with him seemed riddled with bullshit. This happened or that happened, all the while his claims of suffering fell upon deaf ears. I have lost contact with him over the years. The truth is, it was a conscious choice not to continue to associate with him. There can be no relationship without trust. I do not trust him, not in the least. Everybody lies. It matters little whether you care to admit just that, we all do it. There is something to be said for moderation. My old friend did not seem to understand the simplicity of the term. When people believe you are a liar, it doesn’t matter what  you say or what you do, there will always be that absence. I remember one incident, while I was still in contact with him, when he claimed to have had surgery. Of course, it was quite serious but he managed to get home at the end of that day. There were no scars, no bandages, no anything but a million excuses and a million more reasons. It’s hard to have faith in someone who doesn’t seem to understand the meaning of truth and honesty. At least, I try not to make it a personal priority to fill the air with nothing but prevarications. I’m not above a good lie here and there, but when it’s all you give, it’s all you get.

“And all the monkeys aren’t in a zoo

Every day you meet quite a few

So you see, it’s all up to you

You can be better than you are

You could be swingin’ on a star”

(Swinging On A Star, Bing Crosby 1944)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CDs067081E

            I don’t believe in fate or serendipity. God’s Will is all good and well but I doubt very much that the idea is anything more than just that. While I do not entertain notions like destiny and “meant to be,” I do believe there are lessons implanted throughout our lives, lessons we must learn or face repeating. This is why learning is so very important for a person who wishes to move past their own folly. If we don’t learn then we don’t move forward, we don’t evolve and we become stagnant. Some people like to rummage around in their lives. Staying in the same place is comfortable and easy. It takes no effort at all. You can always do better. If you are stupid, study. If you are dirty, take a bath. If no one believes you, try the truth. Regardless of our limitations, each one of us has choices and those choices will dictate who we will turn out to be.