The question is this: Do we, The Unbelievables, each of us individually ... do we really need some measure of therapy?
When you're in a position of authority as we are, doling out justice and common sense to the senseless as we often do, when you find yourself in a sometimes precarious and delicate decision-making mode, the answer is yes ... yes we do. On occasion. Much as we might not want to admit it to ourselves.
After all, as Clark mentioned earlier this week, no matter the kind of reader you may be of our adventures (and non-adventures) we have recurring themes.
Mine? Duh. Pantslessness. As if you didn't already know.
Personally, I've never had a problem with it. But when my two cohorts and I first purchased and modified and, finally, housed ourselves permanently at our Unbelieva-Base in Stiletto Flats, Nevada it was, well ... a bit of an "issue" for them.
I'll spare you the details but it came down to this: "Michael ... Jeff and I have buried our pride long enough to session with the brilliant Dr. Quinton Quitit. We think it's time you had a chat with him as well ..."
Understand, I love the guys. So, to keep the camaraderie high and continuous, I relented. It was off to Bedrest, New Hampshire for "a talk."
It went a bit like this (which, you might recognize, was uncannily similar to Clark's original session visit):
QQ: Hello Michael. It's nice to see you. I'm told you are here because of a bit too little pants wearing, yes?
ME: You betcher bippy, doc. Freedom! What can I say? Ease of movement! It's not like I have defenestration issues like Clark or I find the need to shave a spud or two and concoct a murphy dish several times a week. And really ... who am I hurting? Besides ... the Unbelieva-Babes dig the cut of my jib, despite how little of a jib there may be to see*.
QQ: *heh heh heh* As it is to us all, Michael.
ME: Really? It's not just me? You enjoy below the waist freedom as well?
QQ: Of course! Doesn't everyone? Why, it's as natural as eating, sleeping and making love.
ME: Whew! That's a relief!
QQ: The key is moderation. If you do too much of anything, it is bad. Very, very bad! Too much eating? Bad. Too much sleeping? Bad. Too much with the making of the love ... well, maybe not as bad. Ha ha! I am kidding. But ... restraint. And common sense. They're the keys to this proclivity you have, you understand. My point is this: It's like Goldilocks and The Three Bears, which very few people realize is a true story; you have to find the "just right" fit between too much and not enough.
ME: But how, Doc? How?? I really want all of us to be happy and get along but I know they're not completely on board with me running around in my skivvies 24/7 ...
QQ: You'll see soon enough. Now ... let's get you fitted for some electric nipple clamps and a pair of goggles ...
Afterward, I couldn't see or wear a shirt for a week. But I also didn't kick anyone out of windows either. (Because I don't have a problem with kicking people out of windows like Clark.)
But what I did notice was I acquired a heightened sense of awareness for actually wearing things.
For example, my love and devotion to the fantastic and stylish Lobster Rage Fist. Especially while outfitted in a tie, vest and - you guessed it - trousers.
All I have to say is this: Thanks, Dr. Quinton Quitit. You're one swell guy ...
"You're welcome."
*I wondered if he caught the not-so-subtle pants reference. He did as it turned out.
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