shredded beef doesn't belong in burritos
I think that I have at long last discovered the perfect analogy for California.
I don't know why, but I love analogies. I find them to be a splendidly effective communication tool. I think this is because analogies save you the trouble of having to form fully coherent thoughts before you go around sharing them with unsuspecting passers-by. With an analogy, I'm causing you to rumage through your unconscious to find your personal connotations of that to which I am comparing, and forcing your mammalian brain to do all of the actual work with respect to fully developing whatever rant I've just provided you with, regardless of whether I choose to do so verbally, in writing, or as a free-style rap.
Case in point, my sermon this Sunday. The Zamboni analogy. Instead of having to put forth all of the effort to cogently explain something about God to you, I just say, "God is/is not like a Zamboni." And you say, "Ooohhh... that's deep."
So here is my analogy for The Sunshine State:
California is like that one friend that you had in high school. You know, the one who always "forgot" his wallet, who always needed a ride somewhere, who always ate all of your food and drank all of your Crystal Pepsi. Or Fresca. Or whatever. He had absolutely no innate sense of personal, financial, or scholastic responsibility, and seemed to exist in a vaccum of parental supervision. This friend always had the newest music and bought the latest video games, despite having no discernible source of income whatsoever.
And this friend, despite being not only completely frustrating, but also eternally unable to grasp why anyone would every consider him to be so frustrating, is also the most fun person you know. And in those rare moments when you're not having to try your utmost to keep from strangling him, you're having the time of your life. Because after all, nobody else's parents would let you get away with near as much as you can get away with at his house.
And so California, in this my sixth month on your golden shores, I salute you. You're a pain in the ass, but somehow endearing. Like a Zamboni.
I don't know why, but I love analogies. I find them to be a splendidly effective communication tool. I think this is because analogies save you the trouble of having to form fully coherent thoughts before you go around sharing them with unsuspecting passers-by. With an analogy, I'm causing you to rumage through your unconscious to find your personal connotations of that to which I am comparing, and forcing your mammalian brain to do all of the actual work with respect to fully developing whatever rant I've just provided you with, regardless of whether I choose to do so verbally, in writing, or as a free-style rap.
Case in point, my sermon this Sunday. The Zamboni analogy. Instead of having to put forth all of the effort to cogently explain something about God to you, I just say, "God is/is not like a Zamboni." And you say, "Ooohhh... that's deep."
So here is my analogy for The Sunshine State:
California is like that one friend that you had in high school. You know, the one who always "forgot" his wallet, who always needed a ride somewhere, who always ate all of your food and drank all of your Crystal Pepsi. Or Fresca. Or whatever. He had absolutely no innate sense of personal, financial, or scholastic responsibility, and seemed to exist in a vaccum of parental supervision. This friend always had the newest music and bought the latest video games, despite having no discernible source of income whatsoever.
And this friend, despite being not only completely frustrating, but also eternally unable to grasp why anyone would every consider him to be so frustrating, is also the most fun person you know. And in those rare moments when you're not having to try your utmost to keep from strangling him, you're having the time of your life. Because after all, nobody else's parents would let you get away with near as much as you can get away with at his house.
And so California, in this my sixth month on your golden shores, I salute you. You're a pain in the ass, but somehow endearing. Like a Zamboni.
posted by hoov, esq at 11:08 PM
<< Home