An Inner Monologue

I've decided to write about the question that you've all asked me. Ok, maybe none of you asked me this, but I know you are wondering and are simply to lazy to take the time and share your question with me. Or ask me how my trip was. Or tell me what's new in your life. I get it, I'm not that important to you anymore. You've moved on. I'll get over it one day, until you call, and I light up and hate myself for letting you back in. Damn you all for toying with my emotions. But ANYWAYS...there was a question many have had for me.

Where did your title come from?

Funny you should (not) ask me that question. Here's what happened. It all occured during a conversation I had with myself. Conversation with yourself you say? Why yes, I do talk to myself, finding that I am quite an excellent conversationalist becuase not only do I never cut myself off, but I really get me. And that's a special thing that is worth holding onto in a friend.

So anyways, here is how the conversion between me and myself went. To avoid confusion we will refer to me as Rob and myself as Hamed. Please do not read anything into this dual personality, as myself is not Muslim (not that there's anything wrong with that), simply that myself is open to the differences between cultures and feels that Hamed (while not a name I plan to use for my children) is an excellent and proper way to address the sensitivity and maturity that me (Rob) lacks.

R-So what should I name this book?
H-Isn't it a bit premature to title the book before it's finished? Like putting that manueur before the horse?
R-It's cart before the horse.
H-What?
R-The phrase is cart before the horse.
H-Oh.
R- And thank you for referring to my book as shit.
H-Actually if what you say is true, then it was your title that I was saying was shit.
R-True, but I don't have a title.
H-I thought that's what we were doing here.
R-Doesn't look that way right now, does it?
H- True, how about naming it Robert's Story.
R- Not sure it would sell. My name doesn't really mean much yet.
H- I bet a lot of Robert's would buy it.
R- Maybe, but I feel like I would be closing it off to a whole market of Jasons, Tims, Marys, and Gertudes.
H- Perhaps, what about naming it the Beatles' Story.
R- That definitely would appeal to a lot more people I suppose.
H- Millions I would assume.
R- You are definitely right. Unfortunately, since the story is not about the Beatles, its sort of misleading. A lot of people might buy it and be turned off immediately when they notice its not about the Beatles. Plus, I want to make sure the book is classified properly and not placed in the music section near any Neil Diamond books. For obvious reasons.
H- Hadn't thought about that.
R- No, you usually avoid that issue. I'm the only one who obsesses about it.
H - You know you really need to get past that. People will always play Sweet Caroline when they get drunk. It's a fact of life.
R- I know, I know. I don't have to like it though.
H- How about something that begins with an A, so it gets placed first alphabetically?
R- Like Answers for Questions I Once Asked?
H- That's a great title to describe the book, but actually I was thinking like AA or AAA, so its way at the front.
R- Oh I see.
H- Well?
R- Sort of the same problem. AA is alcoholics anonymous and while there is a lot of drinking in the story, I don't want people to get the wrong impression. And AAA is an emergency roadside service. If people bought the book expecting travel tips I imagine they would also be sorely disappointed.
H- You are very particualr about this title you know?
R - Well its important to me.
H- I think you are obsessing again. And its not healthy.
R- Again? When was I obsessing recently?
H- Is there another person in the room right now?
R- No.
H- Are you talking to yourself again?
R- Yes.
H- I rest my case.
R- Ok, fine.
H- How about Untitled?
R- Interesting. So you mean to make a parallel between how this story tells the tale of a person whose life only begins with sadness and whose story has yet to be written.
H- Um, yeah. Sure.
R- Was that not what you were going for? Did you mean something else?
H- Sort of.
R- Well what did you mean?
H- That your book wasn't titled yet.
R- Oh.
H- But your thing works too.
R- Nah, not anymore it doesn't.
H- Sorry.
R- I need you to take this seriously and give me real, honest titles.
H- Ok, I can do that.
R- Really?
H- Absolutely. How about Even the North Star Changes?
R- Nah, too pretentious.
H- A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius?
R- Been used before.
H- Bros before hos?
R- Too alienating.
H- Brothers before Women Who Come Between Them?
R- Too condescending.
H- Cunning Lingusits?
R- No, Hamed.
H- Caution: Things May Be Closer Than They Appear?
R- What?
H- No, You Hang Up. No You Hang Up?
R- Sweet Jesus.
H- The Truth Ends in Masturbation
R- No.
H- Vegetarians don't like Lambskin?
R- No.
H- A Big Glass of Calm the Fuck Down?
R- No.
H- Harshing My Mellow?
R- No. No. No.
H- What?
R- None of this is good. None of this gets across the humor of the sadness. The irony of the endless loop. The absurdity of all the situations.
H- Don't worry, we'll find something.
R- Will we?
H- Sure we will. I mean, it's a title, not a cure for cancer. Besides you have bigger thinsg to worry about these days. I mean you really need to get on the ball interms of finding a house. Then there's the fact that your freelancing is hardly a long term solution. Plus, Kate's not gonna wait forever for kids you know.
R- Gee thanks. I feel so much better now.
H- All I'm saying is cheer up, things could always get worse.
R- What did you say?
H- What about the kids thing? I mean you've been married a while, i assume the kids thing...
R- No, the cheer up thing.
H- Oh, I was just saying to cheer up, that things could always get worse.
R- That's it.
H- That's what.
R- My title. Cheer Up, Things Could Always Get Worse.
H- Oh, cool. So we're done yeah? Can we go watch Fight Club again?

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Sure this isn't about naming a book, but naming is naming, right? And writing a book is sort of like giving birth in a way...you know with mental anguish taking the place of a something the size of a watermellon being pushed out something the size of an egg.

The Ox Bellows