“Say what you wanna say and let the words fall out. Honestly I wanna see you be brave with what you want to say” – Brave/Sara Bareilles
I am a quiet person. I’m not particularly outgoing.
That may surprise some of you considering the stories I’ve told and the job I’m doing. It’s all an act. It’s my job. Similar to what I do when I’m cast in a play, I perform. I have a script so I know what to say. Give me the words and an audience, and I will accomplish the mission. With Lady Liberty I have no script, so I keep my mouth shut. I can’t even bring myself to cheer at a sporting event. I stood on the boardwalk a few weeks ago to support a friend in the Shamrock 8K. I held a sign. I had spent the previous week jumping and waving and dancing on the side of the street. Why then did I not have the courage to shout out to the runners or do anything more than shake my sign and jog in place to keep warm?
I listen to some great songs through my ipod on the street. My natural desire is to sing along, but I resist. I only do so in my head. In private, I’ve been known to dance through the house and burst into song as if my life were a Broadway musical. On the street I remain silent.
The funny thing is I have a lot to say, but the dialogue stays in my head. Yep -I just admitted to talking to myself. It’s not so crazy if I don’t do it out loud, right?
But what if I did? What if I said what I thought and let the words fall out?
It might go something like this:
To the Blue Bunny Ice Cream Truck: You have driven by me way too many times not to share. I deserve a tip and I’ll take it in ice cream sandwiches.
To about 20% of the drivers passing by: Stop texting! Just stop. You’re scaring me.
To Bobby: I like them too!
To the woman in the black Range Rover: You cannot eat a burrito, talk on the phone and drive all at the same time…not safely. No, you can’t.
To the man who spit on my stage: Spewing your slimy D.N.A in public is a revolting habit. And you did it in my work space! How would you like it if I peed on your desk? Maybe vomit on your living room floor? Flick a wet booger on your computer keyboard? Pop a zit on your phone? Should any of these ideas seem inappropriate to you or perhaps disgusting, I urge you to never, ever, ever purposely discharge your bodily fluids on any sidewalk, grassy area or parking lot. As for all you habitual loogie-hockers who cry, “What am I supposed to do with it?” I only have one word: SWALLOW.
To all the drivers who give me thumbs up, honk, wave and smile, especially my faithful school bus drivers and the HRT driver who always places his hand over his heart: Thank you. Be safe!
To my Station 4 Firefighters: I love you, but your horn startles me every time!
To the Tastykake delivery truck driver: I’m working hard here. Give a lady a cupcake. Please. Pretty please… with chocolate frosting on top?
To the pick-up truck driver with the “Butt Buffer” business label: Huh? I really want to know what that’s all about. Next time you come by, please drive on my side of the street. I have a new dance move I’ve dedicated to you.
To whoever left the box of “Sexual Peak Performance Tablets” on the sidewalk’s manhole (also known as my spotlight): Thank you for the kind gesture, but it seems someone got to it before I arrived at work. The pack was completely empty. That’s okay. My Acai Blueberry Energy drink mix is providing just the right amount of kick to keep my street performance at its peak. May I suggest a box of chocolates next time?
To all the cute kids in the back seats who smile and wave at Lady Liberty: Stay in school, work hard and pursue your passion, and some day you too can be flipping a sign on the street corner!
“Doesn’t matter if you’re short or squat… Cerebrally challenged, completely shot. You might have it or might not. All you really have to do is… shine. Give ’em that old razzle dazzle and shine!”-Billy Elliot the Musical