Hello. It’s Friday. It’s time for the musings of our friend, ID Collection’s Jim Williamson. I am trying my best to muster up some happy. Can’t you just feel the excitement building? It’s almost like watching slugs race. Let’s face facts: no one is happy every day. Not even the dog is happy all the time. (He would be except for his extreme fear of thunder—and the extreme fear of the Thunder Vest. Side question: does McQueen make a Thunder Vest?) Me, I try very hard to be happy most days—although at times it is really hard to suppress my inner Giudice.
In keeping with trying to be happy, the other day an old friend happened to stop by the showroom. My first thought was, “This visit is going to make me happy.” Five minutes into a very one-sided conversation, I thought, “This is making me sad.” By the time she had said her 25th “I,” “me,” and “my,” my focus definitely changed from wondering how she was doing to how I was going to word the latest blind item on CDAN.
We all have this sort of friend. The person who says stuff like, “I did this, and I was amazing. Then I did that, and it was a good thing I had this idea all myself because I think it is so amazing. I was so thrilled with myself that I wanted to take me out for a drink to celebrate how fabulous I am.” At one point, I did consider that perhaps the stars did shine only for her because she made them from scratch with nothing more than a Dior pump, a support bra, a glue gun, and some glitter. But then I remembered a little thing called “physics” and the many reasons we stopped hanging out.
As she spoke, I could hear the voice of Mrs. Marilyn, a woman from my small southern farming town of fewer than 10,000 people. “Sweet baby, it isn’t proper to be boastful. Not everyone has had the advantages you have had in life. Whether or not you think those advantages have been good enough or not is beside the point. The point is others might be worried about paying their mortgage or finding a job or taking care of an ill relative. Try and be thoughtful and polite. I know it’s difficult for you but don’t be braggart.”
After listening to my friend wax on and on about how wonderful she thought she was, I had a vision of the true joys in life: fermented grapes, a good book, and a sound-proof room. I was kind of patting myself on the back about how different I am than my friend. Then I counted the number of times I used “I”, “me”, and “my” in this blog post. Don’t you hate it when self-realization backfires? I guess I will need to take a few dips in the dumpster pool at the Dallas Contemporary on Saturday and give this whole thing more thought.
Next week, we’ll talk about “emotional furniture.” It’s not what you think, although I have seen some furniture that made me cry. Until then, go out and find you some happy.