Sniffing For Dogs On The Wind...

Legacy. Everyone has one. Or rather, everyone leaves one behind. Hopefully, it is something unique to that person, something defining. Some of the greatest legacies of History's Finest were evident from an early age - everyone knew that these folks were gonna be something BIG. Like, say, Mozart. Child prodigy extraordinaire. And that one guy in the Guiness Book of World Records, who eventually became The World's Tallest Man -- he came outta the womb at something like 6 ft 10... you pretty much knew his claim to fame was pre-destined. Other geniuses and artists didn't really come into their own until the latter part of their lives. OK, so I can't think of anyone right now -- but trust me on this one. We're talkin' some of THE biggies.

Offspring is probably the best kind of legacy; unless, of course, you were Herr & Frau Hitler -- they probably shoulda tried for the Tallest Man thing. But, unless fate has a 'Sleepless In Seattle' moment in store for me, it's pretty much a done deal that my gene pool is going to go the way of the Brontosaurus. Not a bad fate, as fates go -- I mean, I kinda dug the Flintstones, and Dino was pretty kewl. So, I'm OK w/that. And speaking of the Flintstones, I wouldn't mind if when I walked, everyone around me would hear a funky Bass sound -- like when Stoney Curtis walked. Now that would be a Flintstones Legacy I could really be proud of. (Ooooo... Ann Marg-rock in that orange fur w/black spots! Yabba-dabba-do)!

I guess that at this point, I haven't really done or achieved anything super noteworthy. Or even remotely noteworthy. Nor is it terribly likely. I mean, building a Toilet Paper Pyramid last summer on my kitchen table, out of 18 rolls of double-ply, won't even get me a footnote in The Big Book of Life. (It did look hella impressive, tho)!

I'm positively obsessed with counting and quantifying and listing things. I can tell you at this moment how many cans of Campbell's Soup, and what variety, I have in my cupboard. I can tell you how many pairs of levis I have. How many spare razors. How many plastic cups. How many eggs. But the one thing I've never even tried to count up, would be the time I've completely wasted on the internet. I swear, if I had put all of that time to better use, I'm sure I could've single-handedly solved the energy problem... yes, it's because of my web surfing that none of us are driving around in cars powered by cheap, renewable fuel. I haven't wasted so much time because of an electronic gadget since Tetris. This is part of the reason for this blog... at least some of the time spent on here actually produces something.

It's pretty much a given that I'm not ever gonna be a famous artist. Or Statesman. Or athlete. Or dancer. Sure, I can fake my way thru a slow dance if I have to, but that's about it. Not really my fault that I never acquired that skill... afterall, I did reach that 'learn to dance' age during the Disco Era. True, I can't fast dance to save my soul; but I can drop to the floor & do pushups to the beat like there's no tomorrow. Yes, I admit, it woulda been hella kewl to be able to move like Elvis (Ooooo ... especially when he got to dance with Ann Margaret, when she wore that orange turtle-neck sweater & the black leotards... Yabba-dabba-do!), but that ain't in the cards.

Off the top of my head, about the only really unique claim to fame I can think of, is coming up with the phrase: "sniffing for dogs on the wind". As far as I know - and please don't tell me if it isn't an original! - I am the creator of that little phrase. It means 'looking for trouble'. It came from watching The Beloved Doggy point his nose up into the air, sniffing in every direction, for other dogs. That was his stupid way of trying to find trouble to get into. Like I said, if somehow that isn't my own creation, I really don't wanna know... otherwise, I'd have to fall back to the Toilet Paper Pyramid thing, as my one claim to fame.

... it really was hella impressive, tho...

Maybe I'll be one of those late bloomers? But I think I'm gonna stock up on double-ply, just in case.