A Eulogy For Larry Thomas
LARRY THOMAS not dead |
(A few months back I got a request from Larry King's people to write an eulogy for myself for an upcoming book of his and I wrote one that I thought was pretty clever and I just got a letter the other day saying they were sorry but they weren't going to use it. And I did that for free). |
It was in 1997, when after forty-one years of suffering the constant mind numbing, insomnia causing, teeth gnashing rage of trying to see the world through the eyes of logic, Larry Thomas was given the secret to life. On a warm summer evening he relaxed in his bed on the second floor of his San Fernando Valley condo, trickles of sweat dripping down his face due to the central air conditioning unit being a half a ton too small to actually do it's job. After all if you were building a condo complex and you could get away with putting in the smallest central air units the law allows, wouldn't you? But back to the secret of life: Larry's adorable four year old son entered the room and with the child-like innocence that only children possess he said, "Daddy, pasta is not a hat." At that moment, he saw his whole life pass before his sweat drenched eyes. A life of wondering why? Yes, why, why, why? Why whenever you tried to turn a screw the perfect amount of times it would always break. What would have happened if you hadn't screwed it in enough or even that last revolution before it broke? Why when you are in a hurry on the road everyone in front of you is driving very slowly? Or when you are doing at least ten miles an hour over the speed limit everyone behind you wants to do twenty miles an hour over the speed limit? And why do they think they have the right to flip you off because they want to speed faster than you want to speed? And on top of that why when someone flips you off on the road you always notice it but when you flip someone else off they never look at you, they just look straight ahead like they know you're flipping them off but they won't dignify your righteous indignation of the terrible thing they've done to you! Why whenever you want to be left alone the entire world dials your number? Or when you're lonely and in need of a friend you can't find one anywhere and you end up turning to someone whom you know wants to sell you something? Why when you have a friend who really needs your good advice they're never ready to hear it but they always feel you're ready to hear their good advice? Why when you need to think of something you know or needed to do your mind goes blank but when you try to go to sleep every memory you've ever had comes coursing through your mind as clear as can be. Especially the things you can't do anything about in the middle of the night. Why is it only songs you hate that you can't stop singing and the ones you like that you can't remember the melody. Why does time go double or even triple speed when you're running late but slows down ten fold when you're waiting for something to happen? And why, when you were a teenager and you broke up with a girl, a normal law abiding, somewhat honest citizen, did she feel it was right to steal your favorite record album? And why was that always the one that went out of print when you realized she stole it? These and many other violations of sense and logic always plagued Larry. But now that he had the secret to life right in the palm of his hand...the fact that the world makes no sense at all, and to embrace that fact Larry would live a brand new life of ease and comfort...did he change? Well, that's another one of those things that bug you. Why when you're given the secret of life do you always do the opposite just because you know it can't be that easy? <the end> |