Late Night Reflection (It's not supposed to make sense is it?)

When I was a kid I used to love "smoking" stick pretzels.
(Such a cool thing to do, right? But I never had an interest
in real smoking.)

When I was a kid I used to love calling root beer, "beer."
My grandmother suggested I call it "root" instead.
(What fun is there in that?)

When I was a kid I said something about being a "bastard,"
and it made my grandmother really unhappy.  "But," I asked,
"isn't that a child whose parents aren't married?"  By definition,
that was what I was/am.  A bastard.

At times, some would call me a bitch.

Where am I going with this?

I really don't know.  I just started thinking about some of the
things I used to do that probably drove my grandmother crazy.

I have always liked to
play with words.

I have always paid
attention to words.

And even though bastard has a negative connotation, I don't
think at the young age I was (5th grade?) I saw it as a bad
thing.  I don't think I saw it as anything but something that
suited a definition.

I remember someone once said that the things you got into
trouble for as a kid are likely the things you are best at, and
you should be doing something with as an adult.  I got into
trouble for talking a lot.

What do I do as an adult?

Write.
Have a radio show.
Do videos.

I guess I do have a bit of talking to do.

I also got into trouble for trying to look at a world by the
definitions around me, but not necessarily seeing the inherent
"bad" of the labels.  I liked things off center.  I liked not
going the places people expected me to go.

Oddly, I also had a drive to "fit in."  So many things I wanted
what the "other kids" had but we couldn't afford.  I guess I
wanted to be unique on my own terms.

I am not sure any of this is making any sense.  But I think
there is something in this for me.  I am just not sure what,
or why I started down this path.

But wherever it is I am supposed to get,
I may already be there.