What others reject, I embrace. I'll dance with the homliest girl at the party, and date her too. If I lived in Chicago, I'd choose the White Sox over the Cubs. When I lived in the Bay Area, I chose the A's over the Giants.
I'd have bought the bumblebee Stiller throwbacks just because so many people hated them. I support Everton when everybody pulls for Liverpool. When the crowd zigs, I zag. Whatever the cool kids flock to, I run from. I hung with the geeks, and those who had no clique to run with in high school. We made our own damn clique.
I celebrate what others turn away from. If I had the cash to buy a Stiller or Penguin jersey, I wouldn't get a Roethlisberger, Brown, Crosby, or Malkin jersey. I'd show love for the obscure players. Those who's name would have never been seen on the back of a fan. I once had a Stiller jersey from Chris Fuamatu-Ma'afala. How obscure is that?
I went to the college that was considered the 5th horse in a 4 horse race among Pittsburgh area D1 colleges. Yes, Robert Morris is a D1 college, as hard as it is for some of yinz to comprehend. I don't do cool. I don't do trendy, anyone who's ever seen the way I dress can attest to that.
Instead of going to some big honking megachurch with a staff listing resembling a Fortune 500 company that used live animals at their Christmas pageant, that pulls in an offering at one service what my church pulls in a year, and where the pastor drives a Bentley, I go to a small, working Episcopal Church in Homewood where the pastor drives a Volkswagen. I don't follow crowds. I take the path less traveled.
The Moonlight Scribbler: Notes and Observations From the Little House in the Ghetto.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Where Others Zig, I Zag.
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