On with the cut and pasted memo...
> It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now
> and then to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to
> another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.
> I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself but I knew it
> wasn't true.
> Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was
> thinking all the time. That was when things began to sour at home.
> One evening, I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the
> meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
> I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
> don't mix but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at
> lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the
> office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly that we
> are doing here?"
> One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it
> hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem.
> If you don't stop thinking on the job, I'm going to have to let you
> go."
> This gave me a lot to think about.
> I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
> confessed, "I've been thinking..."
> "I know you've been thinking," she said, "Again! I want a divorce!"
> "But Honey, it's not that serious."
> "It is too serious!" she said, her lower lip aquiver. "You think as
> much as a college professor and they don't make any money! I refuse
> to let you do that to me!"
> "That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
> She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood
> to deal with the drama. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I
> stomped out the door.
> I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared
> into the parking lot with NPR blaring on the radio and ran up to
> the big glass doors. But they wouldn't open. The library was closed.
> To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me
> that night. As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling
> glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend,
> is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it read. You probably
> recognize that line. It comes from Thinkers Anonymous. Which is why
> I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
> I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-
> educational video. Last week it was "Porky's." Then we share
> experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I
> still have my job, and things are a lot better at home.
> Life just seems... easier, somehow, now that I've stopped thinking.
> I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
> In fact, today I registered to vote Republican.
I hope to be back to you all in full form very soon...much love...danny...
ps: it's a little old...but i hope that you enjoy the picture...I played santa for a friend of mine...it's his old lady...
