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Hey folks. BHC here. I would like to spend a little time on this extraordinary day to rant about a philosophy. It’s a philosophy that came to my ears as innocently as a whisper from a good pal, a chum, an amigo as my Latin friends would say. When he said it there was no particular inflection in his voice, nor sinister motive, just the most basic thought ever. Do it till you can’t.
At first I thought it was a quitter of a slogan. It wasn’t as instantly uplifting as “Hang in there, baby” or as motivating as “Just Do It”, but when you take a moment to look at it a little closer it really isn’t about quitting. It simply implies that anything you do should be done until it can no longer be done. Let’s put it in a different context. Playing sports? Do it till you can’t. Doing a crossword puzzle? Do it till you can’t. Running a marathon? Do it till you can’t. Getting your drink on? Do it till you can’t, just don’t drive. Doing the horizontal bobble? DO IT TILL YOU CAN’T!
There are so many places in this wacky world we call life to use this simple philosophy. As I am setting goals for the New Year my main focus will be on getting the BHC Nation to have more members than a certain North Carolina born American Idol runner-up. It’s a daunting task to think of the Nation being over 12,000 strong, but I’m gonna do it till I can’t. Because the bigger the Nation gets, the bigger the food drives get, the bigger the nights out get, the more fun we will all have. And I know you will stand behind me, each of you suggesting the BHC Nation page to all your friends, sharing membership posts, sharing my blogs, helping me to help the world and you all do it till you can’t, and I love you for it.
So, do it till you can’t. If I think this applies to many things, there is one that it should be tied to indefinitely. Love till you can’t. Love with all the desire in your heart. Love with every fiber of your being and then love some more. Love like its oxygen. Love like there is nothing more powerful in the world. Because there isn’t, except Chuck Norris. Love till you can’t and I will do the same.
Love ya Nation,
When the last lady I was serious about told me that if I didn’t want to continue to be disappointed I should stop asking her to do things with me, I was crushed like a bug under a bull dozer. I love her, she loved me. That should have been enough, right? I should have heard the Elton John song swell to a crescendo as we ran into each others arms for a kiss that made the rest of the world disappear. Ever had a kiss like that? It’s magic that Harry Potter only wishes he could pull off. But love wasn’t enough. I thought it was. I still do. I think John Lennon was so right on the money, “All you need is love.” I think that when I look into a women’s eyes and see the reflection of my soul there is nothing that can tear us apart. Sadly, thinking something, no matter how great a thought, doesn’t make it true. There’s a million things that can tear two loving people asunder. And if both people don’t respect the rareness of two people who can see into each others hearts, then it’s doomed. But even in doom, I still love.
So, how do I define something that has filled my heart with both joy and pain? Love is the feeling of yourself in another. Love is the miracle that proves the soul exists. Love is not something to be taken lightly, but should be given generously. Love is wanting to come home just to look at that special someone in their comfy clothes. Love is permanent, yet disappears without tending. Love is laughter, tears, whispers, and screams. Love is elusive, yet all around. Love is blind, but looks through you. But if I had to choose one simple definition for something I think is so complicated I would say this: Love is all you need.
Thanks John. Well said.
When you enter it’s a world of wonder. Your eyes big trying to take it all in. There are brilliant colors, costumed characters, and a feeling that around each corner magic awaits. You don’t hold too tightly to your grasp on reality. It’s all imagination and anything can happen optimism.
Soon you enter the kiddie rides. It’s cute as a button time for you as your picture is taken with great enthusiasm by everyone around you. These followers will coo and pinch cheeks while filling you with fairy tales and cotton candy. It’s the greatest time of your life and its too soon taken from you as you are placed in a 12 year waiting line. Sure, you’ll learn some vital skills like dodgeball and cursing, but a lot of what you take in will later be used only to impress people with your quasi logic.
There are some interesting rides that wait for you in that line. You may stop in at the Tunnel of Love. Know this, if you’re lucky enough you will visit this attraction a few more times during your visit. It’s a thrilling two person ride that involves hand holding, nicknames, and carpal tunnel from texting. But as that ride comes to an end you will find yourself standing directly in front of the House of Mirrors.
Chances are you’re not going to like your reflection much, but sadly, this too will be a frequent stopping place. But getting back in line you start to get a glimpse at what lies ahead. The Roller Coaster. It will be there in the distance for a while. Next stop, the Bumper Cars.
Single rider only cars careening into one another under an electrified ceiling. Its fun. There’s laughter and a feeling of being out of control. It’s a short, bumpy ride that leaves you with a few aches and pains, but hopefully no permanent damage. From here you take in the blender-like Mixer or Tilt-A-Whirl. There will be some dizziness and perhaps a lot of vomiting. Don’t worry. It’s completely normal. Again, the line awaits, but you are about to reach the end of kiddie-land. Because you all too soon find yourself standing in front of the Roller Coaster.
There are precautions about this ride. Keep your hands and arms inside at all times. A rule you will soon flagrantly break by raising your hands at every peak. It starts with a steep climb. At the peak of which you are both empowered and frightened. And then you drop. Your stomach rises to your throat. You are scared. Your heart races. And you scream as loud as you can. The process then repeats in a never-ending cycle. Rise and fall. The ride lasts decades. It’s awesome. It’s scary. It’s the one ride you will wish you could go on again, but you can’t. You only get one ticket.
When it’s over you find yourself standing in front of the Hall of Terror. Or worse, the exit. Either way, it will feel like the ride went by too fast.
Me, I love being in the amusement park. It’s nice here. The lawns are manicured, the food is fattening and overpriced, and the people who work here pretend to like me. It’s a great place. So, yeah, I spend my life riding. And I hope that I get back to the Tunnel of Love as often as possible.
Bruno Mars is not my regular cup of Sleepy Time, but this stupid, silly song sticks out for one reason and one reason only, I understand what he’s talking about. I understand the desire to be rich as heck. I would never be on the cover of Forbes Magazine with Oprah and the Queen, but I could be on the cover of Tiger Beat. Maybe there could be a love triangle between Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, and me, BHC. That would be something for TMZ to talk about, wouldn’t it? Imagine the face of Harvey Levin, standing in front of the dry erase board with a smug look on his face as Max, the long haired blonde kid holds up a photo of yours truly. “I’ve got a bobblehead that’s such a pimp, Lindsay and Britney are fighting over him.” Harvey’s head would explode. And that would be good television.
How on Earth can a bobblehead, even one with the charisma +6, get to be a millionaire? Well that’s the question. The answer? Beats the crap out of me. Right now, I’m certainly happy to continue with the good vibes. I am happy to flirt, to chat, to ask a question or two. I am stoked that I’m getting more popular just by being the best bobblehead that I can be. It’s a crazy world that we live in and there seemed to be a void in basic human kindness. I’m trying to fill that emptiness with a good word, a quick compliment, a birthday wish.
I wanna be a millionaire, that’s no lie. But what I want more than that is to close the lid on my Patron box each night knowing that I made at least one person smile everyday. That’s the gold in the stone. The smiles, the love, the way that the BHC Nation is making people that would never know each other friends. I’m loving you all, and that’s worth a million bucks.
But if any of you happen to have a million bucks that you wanna toss at my feet, imagine the fun I would have with it. So many motorboats to be done in so many lands. It’s a great dream. Until it comes true, keep on nodding, Nation.