I’ve never had a hot italian beef sandwich

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Idiosyncratic – I wish it just meant being weird and rocking it, and in a way it does, but I guess there are larger implications to the word.

Idiosyncrasy is for breaking through the static, the buzzing, the noise, the pace, the clutter.

To get attention, to stand out. But again, not by joining the never-ending scrolling feeds of avocado toast images or awesome sunset hike or (God Forbid) a corporation’s clumsy attempt to look relevant because they tracked your purchase of a new vacuum cleaner and now they’re sending you images of custom-colored compostable vacuum bags made from soybean shells.

To snap your fingers in front of the sleepwalking citizenry. To make people stop and think. To cause a head shake, even with disdain. It’s to cause a change, even if it’s brief.

Idiosyncratic is driving on Highway 512 and seeing a dilapidated, weathered, ten-foot by ten-foot piece of plywood propped against the border fence of a farm with the words “Windmill For Sale” and a phone number scrawled in 500 point font.

A terrible way to break through the clutter, and likely unintentionally idiosyncratic, but still.

If asked, I think my friends would say I sound idiosyncratic, and then say I’m not their friend and to stop calling and asking for money.

I think my idiosyncrasies involve sounding…

Generally nonsensical.

Overly enthusiastic about inconsequential things (i.e., the windmill ad). Or types of sandwiches I’ve never had.


Overly willing to talk about weird things that happen to me, especially when they are a result of buffoonery on my part. I guess that’s a form of self-deprecation.

Prying for detail and context. (Interrogatory?)


Shoulder grabbing and shaking people and saying “look it doesn’t have to be that bad look at that over there look how funny or stupid or embarrassing or beautiful or out of place or awesome or smart that is and it’s right there in front of us.”

We should all pursue and embrace our idiosyncrasies. The journey is worthwhile because there are amazing things we can see, the most interesting of which are not where all the other tourists are, but rather hidden within the mundane or forgettable or easily pass-by-able. Down that marbled side street with all the closed doors, that’s where the good stuff is, where no one goes.

And as that lifts us up, the excitement and the thrill of telling these stories and showing people how great things can be, it empowers us to help those in need, whether a corporate or business need, or a need for connection and inclusion, or a need for necessities to survive…there’s so many ways we can help.

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Engaging irreverence, occasional coherence, often pointed, mixed with enough indelicate humor as to create a want, a craving for more.