Tag Archives: energy

I’m great, I’m terrific

When people ask me how I’m doing, I always tell them, “I’m great,” bare minimum, I’m doing great. You know, you like positivity, right? Well then why settle for anything less? I tell people how great I’m doing and they like it, they appreciate the jolt of good vibes I’m sending their way. I even like to say it aggressively, like, “I’m great!” but short, like a really intense response, I’m staring at you directly in the eye, that hand shake we’re engaged in, doesn’t it hurt? Not a lot, but just a little bit, right? That’s because it’s a great handshake.

But like I said, that’s my bare minimum. So actually, if you ever run into me on the street, and you say, “What’s up Rob? How’s it going?” and I’m telling you that I’m great, well, honestly, I’m not really doing that well. Because that’s my bare minimum, that’s the basest level of interaction I’ll allow myself with another human being. If I’m just great, yeah, I’m glad that I got to maybe spark some positivity with my left hand, as it smacked your right shoulder while we were in the middle of that ultra-firm handshake. But your great, that’s my not-so-great.

And things aren’t usually that bad in my life, I don’t have too much to complain about. Which is why most of my day-to-day interactions will fall more “terrific” on the scale than they will merely “great.” I say it like an affirmation, “I’m terrific, how are you?” with added emphasis on the “rif.” Ter-RIF-ic. I might forgo the handshake for a high-five, not a regular five, OK, my hand is all the way up here for a reason, and if you present an outstretched low open palm, don’t expect that I’m going to come down to make contact. No, I’m going to stand here with my hand all the way up, and if you don’t make a move, eventually I’ll force it, I’ll say, “Come on man, high five!” and then when we make contact, I’m looking for an audible slapping sound, all right, yeah, it might hurt, but it’s not real pain, that’s the feeling of you not having experienced a real high-five in quite some time, so you’ll get used to it, all right? Terrific, I’ll repeat it again after that slap, it was loud enough that everyone around turned their heads in our direction, and I’ll extend that spotlight to you, I’ll say it a little louder, “We’re doing terrific over here.”

And again, I don’t want to get too hung up on levels and scales, my terrific equals your OK. But that’s exactly what it is, if I’m terrific, I’m just OK. And I don’t know about you, but I really hate settling for just OK, no way dude, life’s too short to go around feeling just kind of all right. Which is why, don’t get too hung up on the high-five thing. Yeah, it’s a little aggressive, and definitely loud, but I try not to really let myself get too comfortable feeling simply terrific. I’d say that the majority of people I run into say hi to me, and when they ask how I’m doing, I’ll tell them that, “I’m better than ever.”

Now we’re getting into some genuine good emotions here, some truly positive positives. Just embrace it, I’m not trying to rub it in your face, because, again, don’t read too much into it, all right, this my way of how you would say that you’re doing fine, everything’s fine, I’m fine. But I’m better than ever. Just hop on, there’s plenty of room on my express bus to outstanding good feelings.

Just don’t tell me that you’re doing well. I hate it when I ask someone, “How’s it going?” and they’re like, “I’m well.” I’m just like, man, what a buzz kill. Who says well anyway? Like I know it’s correct, and I know it makes sense to write it out that way. But to say it? In actual conversation? You’re well? You sound like a textbook. And now I’m just of great again. And I won’t even say anything, I think I see my friend Jim over there anyway. Maybe he’s got what I need to recharge the batteries here.

And no, I don’t think it’s disingenuous, trying to come across as better than I actually am. I’m just constantly reaching, like maybe if I tell you that I’m better than ever, maybe you’ll light up a little inside. Maybe I’ll inspire you to a higher level of however it is you’d describe yourself at the moment. And then I look at your eyes widening, I can see all of that positivity weaseling its way inside your head, I think, I did that, that was me. And I get pumped up. So when I said I was better than ever, maybe I wasn’t. But now I might be.

And so I’ll correct myself, I’ll add something like, “You know what? This is one of the best days of my life!” (emphasis on that life.) And then a high-five isn’t going to do, OK, I need something better, maybe I’ll get up real close and I’ll shadow box, like I’ll give you two or three fake punches to the gut before letting out a really intense laugh, “ha HA!” and then sidle up next to you, my left arm wrapping around your neck, like a noogie without the actual noogie part, and with my right hand, I’ll pat you on the gut, like we’re brothers, like we’re two guys just horsing around, reveling in the unlimited potential of our out-of-this-world dispositions. Hey come on, let’s go get some ice cream. Yeah, the ice cream place two blocks down, come on, I’ll race you! Let’s go! Ha HA!

Human photosynthesis

Scientists are working on all of the wrong things. Well, maybe not everything they’re doing is wrong. Like trying to cure cancer, that’s definitely something that I hope they figure out sooner rather than later. But scientists, come on, there is so much more that you could be doing, I’m talking big picture, beneficial to humanity type stuff.

Like, what about photosynthesis? Why can’t you make photosynthesis happen for human beings? If plants can do it, I really don’t see what the problem is in making it happen for us. Just figure out how they do it, and then come up with some sort of a gene therapy or a medication or something that makes it work for us.

I’m not suggesting that we change our method of processing energy entirely, it would just be nice to have a photosynthesis option, as a supplement. Like a hybrid car, we could be hybrid people. Obviously, I don’t want to give up eating. Given the choice between eating and photosynthesis, I’m always going to go for a snack.

But what about when there aren’t any snacks readily available? Like what if I’m on a really long car trip and there’s not another Arby’s rest stop for like a hundred and twenty miles? What then? The obvious solution should be, nothing. Just sit back and let human photosynthesis take care of the rest.

And that’s just my own very limited ideas about how photosynthesis would benefit me, personally. Imagine photosynthesis on a global scale. You wouldn’t have to worry about anybody starving. “Just go outside!” we could have aid workers tell all of the poor people around the world, “Your bodies are now capable of turning sunlight directly into food!”

Problem solved. And then we wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about all of the food we waste over here. So many times I feel like I’m just shoveling food in my face because it’s better that I clean my plate than to let anything go to waste. But once the scientists finally get their priorities together and make this photosynthesis thing happen for real, I’ll eat, or I won’t eat, whatever I want.

“Give me the biggest plate of food you have,” I’ll tell the waiter when I go out to eat. And he might be like, “Sir, the biggest plate we have is a family style tasting menu. It feeds six adults.”

“Bring it,” and I’ll eat a bite, whatever, I’ll eat a little more. “You want me to wrap everything up for you?” They’ll ask me as they clear the mostly full plates from the table. And I’ll say, “No, just throw it all away, dump it straight in the trash.”

No longer will I feel like I’m being guilted into wrapping up my leftovers, making a big show of taking them home with me, looking for a trashcan a few blocks down, waiting for an opportune time where nobody’s watching me, judging me for throwing out the remnants of a perfectly good meal. “Just toss it,” I’ll repeat.

And scientists, while you’re at it, can’t you figure out some way to give human beings the ability to dig themselves into the ground and start drawing additional nutrients right from the soil? Again, I’m not saying that I’d prefer to literally start making roots into the earth, but big picture, think about all of the homeless people out there.

It costs money to house them in shelters, and most of the time, they’re out back on the streets in no time. Why not just plant them in the ground? We could use this technology at prisons also. “Just dig yourselves in, fellas,” the warden would announce as they all filed in for prison orientation. It would cut down on violence. And taxpayer money. We wouldn’t have to spend a dime, we could just make sure they get some water every now and then, direct access to sunlight.

Let’s do it. We’re at a point in human history where these types of technologies should be commonplace. If I had tons of money to spend of research, that’s what I’d be doing with it. But I don’t have any money. So all I can do is continue to urge the scientific community, let’s make it happen. Come on.

Wow, I’m feeling really great today

I’m feeling great today. I’m feeling super energetic. Everything’s just on. Does that make any sense? Like a switch. Like there are a bunch of switches and all of them are in the on position. I’m just going with it. I’m just going in general. I’ve never felt better. I’ve never felt more capable of doing anything. Seriously.

I feel like I could climb a mountain. I’d just get to the base and start climbing. And I’d keep going and I’d get to the top and I’d look around at everything and say to myself, “That was it?” because I’ll still be so pumped, that climbing a mountain wouldn’t have even made a dent in my energy reserves. You might be saying to yourself, well, maybe it wasn’t that big of a mountain. Rob, don’t you live in New York? Even if you go upstate, it’s not like the mountains are that big. And so I would say to that, touché, bring me a bigger mountain. Let’s go to the Rockies. Let’s go to Katmandu. Is that a mountain? I don’t think so but, whatever, I didn’t want to say Kilimanjaro or Everest, because they both sound too cliché. But I’ll climb all of them, one stacked on top of the next. Make a ladder out of mountains so I can climb all the way to those super mountains on Mars. I can’t be stopped. Not today.

I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. But instead of simply coursing through my body for merely a fraction of a second, this lighting bolt is constant, like it’s just going up and down my spine, trillions upon gajillions of gigawatts of energy. Yeah, I know, lightning bolts are really hot, like surface of the sun hot. But for some reason the energy isn’t melting the flesh off of my bones. It’s like I’ve harnessed it, I’m somehow in control of it. And my hair isn’t singeing either. And my clothes are fine too. It’s not real fire is what I’m trying to say. But that’s what it feels like.

It feels like I can run an ultra-marathon. It feels like I could swim down the eastern seaboard to Florida. It feels like I could write a whole novel in a day. But it wouldn’t just be words, not merely length. It would be quality work. Like masterpiece caliber material. And it would make all other writing seem terrible by comparison. Which maybe I don’t actually want to do because, should the bar really be set that high? Isn’t that kind of too high?

But then again I’m feeling so energetic, so full of just, everything, that I’m seeing that bar, like I’m visualizing an actual bar that I’ve actually set so high, like I reached as deep as could to set it that high, and then I come back down and I look at that bar and I’m like, wait a second, that doesn’t seem too high. I don’t feel like I even used any energy at all. I’m still so jazzed up and jacked up and I dig even deeper and I reset the bar, even higher than before, and it makes the first setting seem like I didn’t even bother to pick the bar up off the ground, and then I come back down and repeat the same process over and over again, so the bar just keeps getting set exponentially higher and higher each time, and then I say to myself, wow Rob, it must be getting pretty late, all of this bar setting must have taken a while, but I look at my watch and I’m shocked, just floored, because all of this will have been done in like ten seconds, I’m moving so fast, over the top energy just pouring out of the core of my very being, and it’s all working up an incredibly oversized appetite.

Yeah, I didn’t even realize it, but I’m starving. I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been in my life. I feel like I could eat a whole steak, a giant porterhouse, two perfectly cooked roast prime ribs, a whole cow, really every single fiber of meat, I could lick it clean off the bone, washing it all down with gallons and gallons of water, so refreshing, I could drink an entire ocean, obviously it would have to be desalinated, I didn’t mean actual ocean water, I was talking about volume, just trying to give you an idea of what it would take to quench my thirst, and now that I’m thinking about it, one cow wouldn’t be enough, especially compared with a whole ocean of water, and while I’m waxing aquatic, I think I could eat a whole whale, a whole family of whales, a giant plate of whale T-bone steaks, and I wouldn’t even need a fork or a knife, I’m just that hungry.

I could do anything right now. I think I could run a two minute mile. I feel like I could uproot a tree right out of the ground with my bare hands. My fists are telling me that I’d have no problem punching multiple holes right through the walls. Right through the sidewalk. That barbwire fence doesn’t look so dangerous. Why shouldn’t I be able to touch those livewires? How much you want to bet I could throw this football over them mountains?

Seriously, you can’t stop me. I can do anything. I could solve the world’s energy problem, just hook me into the system, jack me in, put me on a treadmill, attach the treadmill to some generators, call up the President, tell him the energy crisis is over, tell him not to thank me, there’s no time for me to say you’re welcome, I’m too busy, I’m too going, I’m too on, I’m just, way too on.