“Rage from the Edge” is such an exaggerated title. At my age, I feel neither edgy nor “ragy,” but rather I feel a lot of day to day frustrations with other human beings and the way my course of life brings me into contact with them. I also feel the need to share those frustrations rather than let them build up inside me; I do that in the form of putting words on paper. The title of this group of articles may give the reader a pessimistic view of how I actually deal with those situations, and occasionally I may even sound gloomy when bringing you a report, but I promise you that the overall tone of these stories will be humorous and that the general purpose of them is to entertain. No, I didn’t say they would be packed with jokes, but taken on the whole they should just be considered as stories to read while you are on the john taking a crap that will give you a small grin or while you are waiting a doctor’s reception area that will help you pass the time a bit faster and in a better mood. What I would really like to do with all this is help you see the entertaining (and sometimes downright hilarious) way we all cruise through life.
It is my position that life is full of all sorts of rage, be it petty or significant. It’s how we deal with that rage that is the fun part. Most of us look back on our past “situations” and can have a small laugh at our stupidity and lack of tact. That is the rage I am dealing with here, the kind of dissipated anger that is best when looked at with the benefit of hindsight. From the child who is a spoiled brat and throws a temper tantrum right on up to the old codger who bitches about the consistency of his mashed potatoes at dinner, there are causes for amusement in almost every single action we undertake each day. I know that if I were witnessing those examples, I surely would laugh out loud…and maybe save the memory for later to share with my family or friends. They deserve a laugh as well as anybody.
Sometimes, once in a blue moon, a story or experience will be so funny, so completely amusing that it garners a level of such legendary status with you and your group of associates that it bears repeating several times. I am sure that you have some old yarn that you and your family still discuss every year at the Christmas table, or that you have a laugh over beers with your friends every so often.
You know the one, the part where Bob got nailed in the nuts while he was playing second base at the company picnic softball game. The one where Sally got her dress caught in the department store escalator and boy did the hilariousness escalate from there, ha ha!
Now I am not promising that these tales will be that level of commemoration, but I do think they are funny enough to share over the dinner table when you and your husband/wife sit down together after a long a busy day. I do think they will give you the impetus to spark a real conversation and maybe twist your otherwise normally sarcastic and jaded smiles into something a bit more genuine.
Where does “edge” come in? Edgy content has been a staple of counterculture and within the last fifteen years or so it has found a home within the same counterculture elements on the internet. Since I have always fancied myself a member of the internet, I find that I cross paths with Edge all the time. You might say I am old friends with Edge. But that does not mean that I am Edge; it only means that I can appreciate Edge’s many forms and its many played out dramas. I have seen Edge enough to recognize it and perhaps relate Edge to readers with a bit of skill. It is easy to say that I am sitting over here on the Edge, talking, but that would be cheating the reader. I am only handing down stories…I am too old to be Edge.
So we have established that I am not edgy nor am I chic when it comes to being fashionable. This has the distinct ability to be a good thing for me, and I will tell you why. Since I’m not fashionable, I am not required to be cynical unless it really needs to be that way. I can look at a thing wholly without contempt or derision. I can take a snapshot of an experience without having to run it through a filter of scorn or skepticism. I can just lay it out “as is” without detracting from the overall effect of the image. I am not held to some pre-defined vogue that is popular amongst the kiddies these days. I just “am.” I hope you read these articles in the same vein as they were produced; they’re just here to make a day a little brighter.
So that exaggerated and probably overblown title has been toned down a bit. I have pretty much torn down the idea that I am full of rage and my edge is about as sharp as a rump roast. Why use it at all? First off, I like it. It conveys some sort of “grounded” and street smart attitude towards the bodies of text that fall underneath its bold letters. So even if I may not be stylish, and my writing really isn’t that elegant chic we spoke of, I can at least be honest enough to tell you that certain words strung together can grab a reader. And yes, I liked that set of words when I first put it down on the word processor and so we are both stuck with it.
If, through my own failings, it is faulty advertising, I am sure I will be contacted and readers will let me know in the most certain and unhesitant terms that I am a flake. But that sort of thing is funny too, so I will probably write about that as well.
Secondly, if you have read this far, you have seen how I have attempted to explain the title. I think that my rage mixed with the edge of bringing it to you is quite easily the best way for me to keep my fingers busy and relate. It may just be the best way to keep the rage from doing something stupid, it may just be the way to dissipate it without it hurting anybody, like how Superman deals with exploding atomic bombs in space. Get it?
Finally, I have been asked to write. No, not just by friends or a boss, instead I have been asked by my inner self. I have always been a writer and I have always written. It is in me like a disease, and I can find no better way to describe it. If you ever have done something you have really loved on a daily basis, you may know what I am talking about. There is an actual sensation of “doing something wrong” when you aren’t paying attention to that little voice in your head.
Speaking of that voice, it has neither rage nor edge to it either. Oh boy but it is cloying and nasty if it is neglected or ignored. I can only describe it as being hungry and having a cupboard full of nothing but condiments. Sure, you can fake eating, but it ain’t gonna fill you up or make you healthy.
And that’s it. That is where the title for this series of anecdotes comes from and where it stands. Think of me as a (mostly, but not quite) quiet observer over in the corner of the room, watching the human experience as it flows on and on. Sometimes, with a gratifying grin on my face, I make a check mark next to what I see; denoting that it will need a bit of relating later on.
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