psychobabble

Fast Food and the Weather

Theweatherman_1

“In life, accuracy counts.” – Tagline for The Weatherman

What does it mean to be an adult? Chicago TV weatherman, Dave Spritz, is unhappy to be divorced, unhappy to be recognized on the street, distracted from the needs of his chubby preteen daughter and his naive teenage son, disconcerted when strangers throw things at him, and convinced he’s a failure in the eyes of his father, a successful writer. In response, Dave constantly announces breathless plans to make things better – impractical, unrealistic, juvenile drivel. A job opening in New York, his father’s illness, his ex-wife’s romance, and his children’s problems from growing up too quickly converge on the hapless Dave. Can he step into adulthood? -IMDb Plot Summary

I know for a fact that everyone has a breaking point. And I mean EVERY ONE. Shrinks say that people “on the verge” can sometimes have psychic occurrences. I wonder then if this counts. Over lunch Wednesday, I told a coworker that I am close to my breaking/saturation point. One person can only accomplish SO much, or go SO far. That night I rented The Weather Man, thinking it was some sort of corporate comedy that would somehow defer my Dilbertish train of thoughts. Have you ever had times when you felt that the lyrics of a song or even a poorly conceptualized ad was speaking directly and exclusively to you? Yes, this was one of those times. To sum it up, the movie had me at hello. Nicolas Cage’s first lines (spoken in narration) were “Refreshing. This is refreshing.” As my player ran, I came up with profound (at least to me they are) lines that really got to me, such as:

“Do you know that sometimes the right thing to do and the hardest thing to do are the same?”

“Easy does not enter into adult life.”

“Clowns get hit with pies.”

“The first time I was struck with something, a chicken breast from Kenny Rogers. I was standing next to a garbage pail. I thought it might’ve been an accident, that they were throwing it out. The second time, it hit me square on the chin, a soft taco. Then, pop. A falafel. McNuggets. Always fast food. Fast food. Shit people would rather throw out than finish. It’s easy. It tastes all right, but it doesn’t really provide you any nourishment.”

“In this sh*t life, we need to chuck some things.”

Okay, they might not be the exact lines, but based on my paraphrasing skills acquired from Prof. Isidro’s (zzzzzzzzzz ngork) Comm. II, they come really, really close to ALMOST. Yeah, these are true. I perfectly have every right not to do everything perfectly. Then why should I wear myself out, spread myself thin, reaching too far out to meet that “halfway” with people whose half falls short? Fast food friends, fast food output from colleagues. Why should I resolve to run a race on the treadmill if they’re the ones on “fast food”? Why should I care about giving an accurate forecast when they don’t carry their umbrellas anyway?

Maybe because I always strive for excellence and expect the same effort from others, my coworker advised me to lower my standards/expectations when it comes to people. Hmm, to me that feels like drenching myself in the rain just because everyone’s catching pneumonia.

So I guess I must start drafting my chuck list. Or maybe I should just take up archery like Nick did in the movie.

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