Better life

Life. You live it. I hope you love it. I know I do.

I love life not because of what people think should be satisfying. Popularity, wealth, pimpin’ rides and women are all good, but none of these things bring merit to my heart. I believe that money, notoriety and women will come in their proper seasons. I don’t have to wonder about them because they’re inevitable.

The things I wonder about are moments in my life that are unscripted. It’s like “Behind the Scenes with Brad Basker.” I didn’t induce the awkward moment. I had no way of knowing it was even going to happen.

Everyone has moments like these, whether falling down the stairs or seeing bird crap on a car. There are little pleasures in between the given aspects of our lives that make the trials of growing up much easier.

About a month ago I was going through the same story as everyone. I had bills and my fridge was empty — pretty typical situation. In the midst of all this reality, I get a knock on my door. It was one of my neighbors asking me if I had gotten a visit from the cops. I said no and then she began to explain how I was a suspected assassin.

Apparently, one of the renters in the lot I live in believes that her imprisoned husband hired me as an assassin to kill her. When I sit with my door open playing FIFA Soccer on the PS, she believes I’m cleaning my semi-automatic weapons. To her, my guitars are weapons, gone Desperado-style. You can’t come up with a situation like that.

I couldn’t believe what I had heard. I’ve never fired a gun in my life. I once killed a pigeon with a B.B. gun, though, and that was pretty baller.

So no, I’m not an assassin, but I could be accused of animal cruelty. So maybe I need the SPCA called on me, but I feel that retribution for my animal cruelty has been paid back in full. Not by the authorities, but by the animals!

They do strike back.

Have you ever been getting ready for church and found that your $60 Express shirt had been peed on my a cat called Dr. Feelgood? They were hanging up, and I guess if a cat can get to my hanging clothes to pee on them, then he gets my respect. I haven’t worn those shirts since then.

Basically, I like when random things happen because reality bites. If a man in a chicken suit ran through the mall area it would be satisfying to my soul. I’d like to place a stick in someone’s spokes while their riding a bike. Maybe not by my own doing, but I sure would like to see it done.

Sometimes throwing things is nice. What about that guy who roller skates on campus? I wonder if he’s ever fallen. I heard he even skates in buildings.

If a tree falls in the forest do we hear it? Do we care? I know I don’t unless it was falling on something of value like gingerbread house.

So perhaps I’m guilty of being cruel to animals, of having a desire to see others embarrassed, and wanting to see a huge chicken. But there is one thing I have cleared up. I am not a hired assassin who uses musical instruments as a cover up.

You can judge me all you want, but a bird taking a loaf on my chest while I was tanning in Galveston makes life all the better.

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