Talking slow

I’ve decided that when I grow up I’d like to be an old man who talks very slow.

I’ve noticed I tend to speak very quickly, probably because I’m nervous or afraid of being interrupted before I say what I need to say. But then you look at old guys, who treat a sentence like a long dirt road and just sort of meander down the way. “Well,” they’ll say, pausing for three years while considering their words, “I sure like ice cream.” And even though it takes them a while to say it, you end up DAMN sure that they enjoy ice cream.

I wish I had that sort of confidence, to just speak real slooow because, you know what, what I have to say is IMPORTANT and I’m going to take my damn time and you — yeah, YOU — you’re gonna sit there and shut up and LISTEN. That would be awesome. The only people who really do it are old guys, though.

One day I hope to be one of those old guys.

Wes Anderson’s “BOTTLE ROCKET” is on CityTV Wednesday Night this week. Your homework assignment is to watch this damn movie. I love The Royal Tenenbaums and Rushmore to bits, but Bottle Rocket is still my favourite. Why? Because I’m fucking innocent.

I’ll be back later. I have to go practice being an old guy.