Live at Cause

Some voice has been telling me to live at cause and not to live at effect. That is, among things that happen to me, I should try to increase the ratio of things I cause to things that I do not cause. My deepest thanks to whatever self-help guru thought up these terms because they have become my favorite rationalization of illicit, indecent, and illegal behavior.

I am living at cause when I walk down the westbound shoulder of Lawrence Avenue at midnight drinking a tall-boy Old Style, unashamed. I am living at cause when I open all the blinds and flip my wang at the Korean (side to side), Arab (spiral up), and Yuppie (pointing, accusatory) passerby. I am living at cause when I compliment the spitting, cursing homeless lady on her choice of loose fitting pants and then slip her a twenty for some over-the-clothes analingus (where I am the lingus until beaten senseless). Self-help, indeed. Tell that to my dentist, who sends me home with a roll of toilet paper rather than a toothbrush.