Easter Sermon

Here I am. On Jesus Resurrected / Bunny Day. At my Happy Place. Spiderhouse. I haven’t been here in weeks due to the demands of my new job. Ask and ye shall receive. Ask for a new, challenging job and receive an overwhelming, all-consuming, kick-you-in-the-ass-60-hour a week job. A job working in television production. A job that I can’t seem to leave when I leave. It sticks with me. And that, simply put, sucks. I was thrown to the lions (CNBC Executives and about 4 other bosses.) I have a huge learning curve that I need to surpass, but it’s seemingly impossible because of the Nascar fast pace of the work environment and the time restrictions of anyone else to guide me. I, ultimately, have to fake it ‘til I make it. But…I’ve never been good at faking it. My face won’t let me. My eyes and expressions are little A & E biographies of what’s going on in my flustered brain. Therefore, faking it is not really an option.

And it’s television. This is what Hunter Thompson says about television: “ The TV business is uglier than most things. It is normally perceived as some kind of cruel and shallow money trench through the heart of the journalism industry, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs, for no good reason.”

So. Yep. As I drunkenly stumble down the plastic hallway of the television industry for reason I have yet to fully embrace, I vow to somehow maintain a tiny morsel of my fluttering, vulnerable jellybean heart. Wish me the perfect balance of gall and humility. Wish me antacid for the synthetic, lingering indigestion in my weak, churning belly of tolerance.