In praise of laziness

There is a popular expression about the virtue of staying busy: “Idle hands are the devil’s tools.” I think that’s it. It also may be: “Idle fingers are the devil’s dildos.” I’m not sure. Either way however, the meaning is the same. It is sinful to be slothful.

I wouldn’t always have subscribed to this view. Last year, I was proud of my state of stasis. I spent most of the year trying as hard as I possibly could to stay perfectly still for weeks at a time. I remember one week in particular when I had a piece of potato chip stuck to my face. I finally removed it, by having my beard grow it off. Those were good times.

This year, though, things are a little different. I’m back in school for the first time in what feels like a decade and I rarely have a minute to spare. I’m busier than I’ve been in years. Busier than I thought I could handle, to be quite honest.

It’s mainly my fault. Even though I have assignments coming out my wazoo, I’m still somehow finding time to write songs about bum pimples and write letters to companies complaining about their products only to ask them for jobs in upper management.

I think without those little comforts, I’d go insane. Or, at least more insane …

I even found time this week to write this crappy column you’re reading. But all this doing stuff is definitely taking a toll on me. I realized recently how busy and preoccupied I’ve actually become. It scared the shit out of me.

Last weekend, I was driving down Portage Avenue when I saw something truly awesome. I don’t just mean awesome in the sense that hip young kids are using the word these days, but in the original sense of the word. As in the awesome power of Thor’s Hammer.

Anyway, here’s what was so reminiscent of Thor’s Hammer: I saw an old lady walking down Portage Avenue at about 5 p.m. completely naked.

I quickly filed this under “crazy shit I need to tell everyone I know,” and then completely forgot to mention it to anyone until earlier today, almost a week-and-a-half later!

There is clearly something wrong with me. Last year, something like this would have been on my mind for months. I would not have stopped talking about it for a week. I would have told everyone I know, then about half of the people I don’t know (and there are a lot of those). But now, a year later, I forgot about it completely.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that, if idle hands are the devil’s tools, then busy eyes are the devil’s way of making people forget to tell their friends and families about naked old women. You tell me what’s worse.

I think I need to quit school.

J. Williamez doesn’t want you to forget, no matter how busy you are, that he plays Shannon’s Irish Pub every Wednesday night.

Published in Volume 64, Number 7 of The Uniter (October 15, 2009)

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