Me!! (Possibly).

I’m not entirely sure if it’s out of genuine concern or our seemingly inherent nature to love a train wreck, but some of my friends have started asking if I’m afraid my parents will find out I lost my job through this blog. I laugh every time, and I can’t help but laugh for two reasons. The first is that the idea of either one of my parents accessing a blog is simply comical and second, that what I write 3000 miles away from my former home would somehow make it to their IP address. Now, I fully understand how the Internet works and that anyone can read this anywhere in the world and that distance has zero bearing on the ability for this to occur. But I just can’t fathom how the two would conceivably connect in this instance. 15 years and 3000 miles equates to pretty small odds if you ask me, because other than my parents living in Allentown, yes like the Billy Joel song, and my sister, I have no other connections to my former life whatsoever. Zip. Zero. Zilch.

So, it makes me laugh — and in some bizarre way also challenges me. I mean, think about it. If my parents were to find out through this blog that I have a whole new lease on life due to my new found “freedom,” that would mean people are actually reading this and inviting others to read it (which is amazing) and each new reader puts me one step closer to “the One” who could expose me. I would cross a country and cross generations with my words, which in the end is the ultimate goal I suppose, and true testament to how connected we are, really. It’s kinda like a twisted version of 7 degrees of Kevin Bacon, or Russian Roulette. I can’t decide (but I think I want to play?).

Either way, I’m pretty confident my secret is safe. And this has zero to do with their intelligence or a lack of know how when it comes to computers, my dad is way ahead of most on the tech curve in just about every aspect except one, social media. Which makes blogs pretty much non existent his consciousness and I know my mom’s not reading blogs either. If she were, my sister would have defiantly enlightened me so we could once more be intrigued by how our parents are “evolving.”

In short, let me put it to you this way, for my parents to find out, outside of me informing them, I will either need to be the answer to a question on Jeopardy, and I’m hoping a daily double — or Oprah will tell them, like I’ve previously explained. I just don’t think it’s plausible. But let me walk you through this with me just to be sure and lets start with Alex.

My parents love Jeopardy. Love it. In fact the last time they came to visit me, they went to a taping here in Culver City. I’m sure it was the highlight of their trip but they’d never admit it, the wonderful grandparents that they are. But I could tell they were genuinely excited to experience what was a favorite habit and nightly ritual for as long as I can remember. And I was excited for them. It was like Alex was inviting them over for dinner instead of the other way around per their usual.

You see, Alex, like Oprah (who shared an after school snack with us each and every weekday), had dinner with us just about every night. It was the routine in our house. And believe it or not, it never got old, the conversation was always stimulating and Alex always had a new set of friends he’d introduce us to. My dad still did most of the talking, however. Along with Alex of course, but that was to be expected, they had so much in common. Oh how they loved to go back and forth with one another like a game o f wits. Alex would recall some minute detail of a topic he found himself immersed in for the moment and my dad would pretend to sound skeptical as he dutifully answer correctly, every time. Alex’s friends du jour would often comment from topic to topic but we never paid much attention, they didn’t seem to hang around long, Alex enjoyed mixing it up. And just like clockwork, I’d hear a friendly wager being placed and as dinner wrapped up, Alex searching for one final morsel of information followed by my dad bashfully responding, correctly? He’d then count his winnings and they’d say goodnight — until tomorrow.

Those were good dinners for me, I look back on them fondly. And for my parents, it’s still a standing reservation and my dad still controls the board according to my mom. I don’t doubt it. He literally knows something about everything, it’s fascinating and comes in very handy I might add. The only time he slips up is when it comes to pop culture and that’s where my mom shines. I shine when the category is cereal, true story. Which brings me back to the blog, it would be considered pop culture and avoided at all costs.

My Dad: I’ll take Euphemisms for 2000, Alex

(daily double noise noise noise)

Alex: And this is the daily double, Bill. What’s your wager?

My Dad: I’ll bet 3200 Alex

Alex: For the Daily Double Bill, this daughter of your daughters was recently handed her pink slip.

He’d answer correctly of course, I only have one sister (and a brother) and she’s an amazing stay at home mom, there are no pink slips.

But all kidding aside, maybe I’m on to something here, not with Alex, but with Oprah? I’ve already explained how I would really rather let my new pen pal Oprah break the news to my parents because I’m sure she would deliver the most eloquent ‘your daughter got the axe but it’s a good thing’ speech ever conceived. Angels would appear with Kleenex, you know, the good ones with the lotion inside. And then I’d be golden, for life I think, if Oprah backed me up and encouraged my decision and applauded my courage. How could I ever be discouraged again? Because seriously, imagine that, imagine the immense joy that would come my way and yours if somehow, someway some staffer at OWN did catch a glimpse of this blog or hear a whisper about it while standing in line for coffee? And because of someone reading now or a friend of a friend of a friend who told their friend, I did receive an encouraging embrace from Oprah? Or a Skype or a tweet — a simple email to keep dreaming?

Now I know how incredibly silly this may seem on the surface. I know I don’t need any one’s help, and no, I’m not looking to be validated by anyone either, I just think it would make for a much more palatable experience for everyone should the occasion for me to come clean arise and my parents believe I’ve been swallowed whole by a cult. I’m conversely asking for the best possible scenario in the best possible version of this dream. Because technically it is possible (except for the angels I suppose) and I am asking why not a hell of a lot these days. And that’s really what’s at the core of this, the power of why not, for everyone, the ability to go for it, no matter how big or how small you perceive it, and know you deserve it. It’s a reminder that dreams don’t judge, people do, so surrounded yourself with the good ones.

If you’re still playing along, I imagine it like a game of telephone (email), and that it’s probably more likely that Gayle gets a hold of the info first and passes it on to Oprah for me. Don’t you agree? I could be like those kids in high school who ask Taylor Swift or Kate Upton to the prom via the Internet and in turn receive a soundbite for their bravery on Good Morning America, or CBS This Morning (cause that’s the one Gayle is on). And from that soundbite the pr machines attached to those “unattainables” get wind of it all and the following day those kids still don’t have prom dates but they do have personal messages and well wishes from their ultimate celebrity crushes! My guess is that on day 3 the dates probably come, in droves, which is what they really wanted in the first, right? And because they dared to go big, they succeeded.

“Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you’ll still end up amount the stars.”

So my point is this, there are countless examples of this “impossible” occurring, everyday, everywhere. So honestly, why not? Why not expect to cross the globe with my blog, and not stop with just the country, why not call in a little favor from a guy who knows a guy who knows a gal whose aunt once sat next to Oprah’s friend Gayle in a restaurant, and ask this be passed on. Because you never know, in the end, it may be me who’s actually daring Oprah into action!

I think I just had an Ah-ha moment!