Pausenblog: Kevin Probably saves the world – Half a show

Pause & Blog, Personal Journey

Jason Ritter, Kevin probably saves the worldOne of the interesting side effects along the path to choosing crazy has been the ability to watch TV shows in two parts, often a week apart. It happens with frequency (when I’m high)…

Pausenblog: Kevin Probably saves the world – Half a show

Jason Ritter, Kevin probably saves the worldOne of the interesting side effects along the path to choosing crazy has been the ability to watch TV shows in two parts, often a week apart. It happens with frequency (when I’m high) that shows build up some anxiety as I anticipate the emotions coming up in a storyline. As I watch the opening acts of the show, it could be any show. Today’s Pausenblog show is Kevin probably saves the world. I’ve found myself pausing it around the 20-minute mark several times over the last few months.

Kevin’s task in life is to be nicer and help people, but he screws it up almost every episode first, to be later resolved… mostly. The middle section of the show frequently has people becoming quite upset at Kevin. This stresses me out because my magical power to feed off the emotions of others is enhanced when I get high to the point that the emotional stress of scripted characters on TV bothers me. Also, because in many ways I identify with Kevin. He is trying to be perfect in a world where he was raised less so. Kevin is impulsive and it doesn’t work out until he reevaluates and does the smart thing.


I don’t want to save the world but … no, I take that back. Why not say that I do.  Perhaps not save it, but help to make it a better world.

I’ve been struggling a bit mentally to fit this new realization that I am, and always have been clumsy, uncoordinated and prone to fail My first five years were filled with stories of my injuries. Epic stories which included hospital visits and multiple scars that remain today. The weird thing is, most of the stories put no blame on me. Things just seem to happen to me… at least the way my Mom would tell the stories. Eventually, she moved us out to the country and the accidents stopped.

I don’t remember the origin of how it hit me. Since I’ve started trying to pay attention, it seems they just pop into my head spontaneously while I’m focused on Television. I can’t say they are always related. It’s not always something that triggers the moment. Of course, it’s different every time. Suddenly I thought to myself; I’m one of those people.

I have talked many times about the phenomenon that some people, and we all know one or three, are just good at everything. It can be quite humorous if you take a closer look, because it often carries over through almost anything they try, even if they’ve never done it before. THeir skill isn’t always coordination or balance based. It can be downright spooky. My grandfather was one such man. He rose through ranks to almost be on two professional sports teams but played minors for a while. Anything I ever saw him do, he did well. I remember word got around through the polite channels he didn’t like playing pool with me. We had a pool table in our basement, but not a great one. He really didn’t enjoy losing… ever. Even though our table was warped and had weak banks, my grandfather would probably have cleared the table in one of two turns if he was playing alone, and it frustrated him to have to play poorly.

In the movie Unbreakable, Samual L Jackson explains to Hudson Hawk, The universe balances itself out, and for every superhuman, the opposite must exist. I am the anti-good at everything guy. The one we see in the movies, exaggerated with broken glasses and other nerdy stereotypes to make him not be exactly like the people in the audience who can relate. The nerds who liked Star Trek and were laughed at for still being virgins living in their parents’ basements. Chosen last for every sporting even possible.

I never noticed it while I lived it. I’m amazed that all my stories seem to remember me as not depressed back then. I suspect it’s a little of the reality and the memory versions differing as I age and remember the good stories over the bad. My memory silently redacting certain memories that were never converted to stories.

So I’ve been dedicating at least some of my stoned thinking time to figure out how much of that is behavior that can be changed, and how much is just that weird cosmic recipe between Mom and Dad’s ingredients. As I started blogging about the KEVIN character I started to see… it’s the impulsive behavior that causes many of the accidents and blunders. I’d always heard the word impulsive of course, and agreed that I like instant satisfaction. In my universe, NOW is where it’s at, and if I can make my NOW better, I’ll worry about later when it becomes NOW. Experts may agree this is not a healthy way to live, but I argue that it’s healthy NOW, and loop back to say that’s what I am doing. It is, however, worth noting that this blog is written while high, and when I’m high, it’s always about the NOW. That’s why drugs exist. They enhance the NOW and let you worry about the THEN when you’re not high. Orange Jeff puts all the bad stuff off for regular Jeff to deal with.

The evolution of the lightbulb moment. It is the impulsiveness that causes many if not all of my mishaps. I jump first or blurt first before thinking. Before I look for a second option. The idea is imagined and acted upon almost in real time. I might say I react at the speed of thought. I flash through a number of memories of classic blunders and each if the could have been avoided if I’d taken an extra second to see what I was about to do.

but wait… that’s who I am, and have always been. It’s a part of the thing that makes me Orange Jeff. My nemesis, labeled as mental illness. It may be a significant part of the A.DD diagnosis, or it may just be another strand to add to my low self-worth, lack of confidence and OCD.  Some of these I can link back to my first five years, or my general upbringing environment. My mother was bipolar, my father was OCD. I do not, however, know how to stop that thing where I react before the second voice has a chance to review and stop me. I’m almost like a rebellious kid with an internal confidence that is always being told no, or wrong or fail by my own brain, so I don’t wait for it.

breath. Clear. This is the point where I would usually sit back and eat 4 Hershey’s kisses, a Tootsie Roll Fruit Chew, and some water.

Maybe I’ll have a roast beef sandwich with Havartis slice instead.

I consciously decided to pass on the mad dash to Bulk Barn buy more Hershey’s kisses and Tootsie Roll Fruit Chews for the week. I hesitate to say the word need, but I certainly have not tried to live without them more than a day in what seems like forever. More than just munchy food for when I toke, the chewies keep my mouth moist and the kisses are just designed for portion control. They’re just so mildly inconvenient to open that I’ll grab 4 and go. Grabbing 5 or more is hard with one hand.

end of part 1




%d bloggers like this: