It seems to me the world is caught in a monkey trap. We want our oil, we know it’s bad for the environment but don’t want to invest in new forms of alternative energy. We know our government only works if Republicans and Democrats work together and compromise but both parties are just holding on tight to this notion that there’s only one direction to turn, left or right. Everyone agrees that the foundation of the future has to be poured and set in the present but nobody’s willing to pay for.
Monkey traps, monkey traps, monkey traps. I think it’s time to let go of the bait and start using our heads. Remember, the monkey that discovers the key to the trap is to remove your hand and turn the coconut upside down not only lives but gets a free meal.
When I’m not writing I’m working the day job, the one that pays the bills. I’ve owned a widow cleaning company for more years than I care to admit. It’s actually not a bad job although I freeze in the winter, burn in the summer and some mornings I’m so sore from spending countless hours on a ladder that I can barely move. But like I said, it’s a job and it pays the bills and most importantly it’s a job that doesn’t require a great deal of thought so I’m free to think about my writing projects. Unlike at other jobs my mind is my own; it’s not filled with other people’s numbers or spent trying to talk someone into something they really don’t want. It’s just me and my crew, a squeegee, a bucket, a ladder and a head full of daydreams and book ideas.
But maybe I’m caught in a monkey trap. Maybe I should let go of that bait and look for a different way of getting that treat out of the coconut. It’s worth giving some thought to. I think on some level we’re all reaching into that monkey trap.
In this day of the Internet and readily available information I’ve recently become the recipient of a lot of emails trying to sell me on the idea of expanding my residential window cleaning operation to include high-rise buildings. Quite frankly that idea terrifies me. Lowering myself over the side of a twenty-story building isn’t something I would consider doing unless someone held a gun to my head and even then I might consider the bullet to be preferable.
But it’s a thought, maybe a bad one but a thought of something different. Unfortunately I don’t believe it’s something that would work for me or my crew of misfits. We’re not very disciplined, we enjoy a good practical joke and spend far too much time laughing. I imagine if we undertook such an endeavor it would transpire very much like this. (Note: Despite the beginning, this is not porn.) Enjoy.