When you’re watching wildlife at the wildlife sanctuary

 More from the desk of Doctor B. D. Septive -  the most self-helpiest of all self-help gurus

            So, who are you?  Are you that ape named Evelyn?  You’re a lot closer to being her than you are to being any other animal on the planet.  And I’m not so sure you can ride a bike any better than she can.  Are you the elephant with the big, floppy ears?  Or do people call you Dumbo for other, more obvious reasons?  Are you the male lion with the long, flowing mane?  If so, that means you are the King of Beasts and nobody wants to share a work cubby with a royal monster, especially one who will steal all the meat from the break room refrigerator. 

            But you are who you are and if you know who you are you will go a lot farther than if you don’t know.  So, embrace your beastliness.  If you like to burp loudly in public, go for it.  If you want to dance in the courtroom, be my guest.  If you want to drive a Hummer in the Earth Day parade that’s fine, just make sure your windshield washers are working because they’ll have to clean off all the yogurt people will throw at you.

            But why are you here at the wildlife sanctuary?  Were you forced to come by a friend or cellmate who takes delight in seeing wild animals up close?   Or are you here because this is the only place you can legally engage in your voyeuristic tendencies?  Oh, sure, you can people-watch at the park, the mall, or the school playground but, eventually, someone notices and you end up spending three hours explaining to the authorities why you keep pointing your long camera lens at anyone who is bending over.

            Is that who you want to be?   The joke of the neighborhood?  The suspicious character?  The pervert in the clown suit?  Don’t tell me.  Tell yourself.  If you have a good, solid relationship with yourself, a relationship with ample give and take, then you’re ready to engage in this conversation with yourself.  Remember, you can only find out who you are by asking the one person who knows and that’s you.

When you are watching a ventriloquist

 FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The most self-helpiest of all self-help gurus

            This is the time when almost everyone on the planet asks themselves, “Why am I here?”  Is it really necessary to watch someone with his hand up the backside of Goobus McFurd?  How many splinter jokes can there possibly be?  And why doesn’t the dummy choke when he and the other guy drink a glass of water and sing at the same time?  If you’ve ever been so insulted you tried to punch the dummy, you’re a lost cause. 

            When you go home and look at that glass thingy on the bathroom wall and see another person, you’d better punch him, too.  He’s probably an intruder looking to steal your antiques, your jewelry, your testicles.  Don’t you think it’s odd that he always moves when you do but, when he does, he uses the opposite hand?  It’s almost as though he knows what you are going to do ahead of time.  He must be some alien creature who has secretly broken in to your brain, waiting for you to make a mistake.  You’d better keep your eyes on him.  That means you will have to stay in the bathroom until he goes away.  Thankfully, it is the room in your house with the most reading material.  But wait, maybe that guy looking back at you from the glass thingy is an illusion.  Of course, if that makes sense to you, you never would have punched the dummy in the first place. 

            But which one is the dummy?  I suppose it depends on your definition of the word.  Is the dummy a lifeless doll filled with stuffing or magic beans?  Is the dummy the guy who sits on a stool with Goobus McFurd on his lap?  Or is the dummy the one who is sitting in his bathroom watching someone who looks like your twin and won’t stop copying you?  The only way to answer these questions is to answer another question: “Who am I?”

            If you’re watching the ventriloquist you may be someone who needed a good excuse to laugh.  No danger there.  However, if you feel yourself being attracted to Goobus, if you want to be a Goobus groupie, or if you really wish you were Goobus, you may need some form of cranial correction or replacement.  Maybe Goobus would like to live in your bathroom with that guy who looks like you.  Perhaps Goobus could help you deal with that guy and explain to you the concept of illusion.  You won’t know what Goobus wants to do unless you ask. 

            But shouldn’t you be asking yourself the tough questions instead of spending your time talking to a dummy?   Ask that question of the guy in your bathroom.

When you break up laughing while your boss is reprimanding you

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE:  The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            What better time is there to know “who you are” than when you are in trouble at work?  Are you the job?   Of course not, but that’s what your boss wants you to be.  He expects you to work night and day for no raise, no recognition, and no sending copies of your butt to Muriel, the receptionist.  He wants you to work much longer and harder than he does and he expects to pay you much less.  And who shirks responsibility more than him?  When he’s the last to leave does he ever feed the Yorkie-Poo attack dogs?  Does he ever give his mother the day off so she can have her extra toe removed?  And don’t you think it’s high time he got something for all those children who live in the basement and run the machines?  He also believes it’s just fine to send his own butt copies to Muriel, a behavior you feel is highly disturbing, seeing as how Muriel is his brother.  

             But no one will put you down for laughing at the boss.  It is perfectly understandable.  When was the last time he actually had a good idea that wasn’t someone else’s first?   He knows it, you know it, and he knows you know it.  But are you laughing at what he’s telling you or are you laughing at his new vinyl toupee? 

            If something is funny you must laugh.  If you don’t laugh, you risk causing great tension which, everyone knows, can lead to brain tumors in mice.  So you’d better laugh, especially if you have pet mice.  If something is funny laughing is natural and healthy, not just for you but for those around you.  Nobody wants to work with, live with, or play with somebody who can’t laugh.  What is the first thing mentioned on every single person’s online dating profile?  It’s “I love to laugh”.  So, even if you aren’t laughing there is someone, somewhere who is and you should be proud of them. 

            Of course there are those of you who will choose to hold it in.   But you’ll only be stifling yourself, your spontaneity, your very life’s energy.  If you’re drinking something at the same time, you’re stifling the opportunity to do a spit take right on the boss man’s twelve hundred dollar suit.

             So, go on.  Laugh in your boss’s face.  He has no life anyway.  His wife and kids hate him because he’s rarely home and when he is they criticize him or ask him for money.  Is that what you want your life to be?  If so, drain your Scotch and   formaldehyde and order another.  There’s always room on the commuter train to Oblivion.  But maybe Oblivion isn’t good enough for you.  If not, you have finally started asking yourself the right questions.

When you are reading about people you’ve never heard of who are, supposedly, celebrities

FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus 

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here and who the hell are these people on the covers of all the supermarket tabloids?  If someone is rich does that make him a celebrity or just annoying?  If someone is on a reality TV show does that make her a celebrity or just pathetic?  If someone is naked do we have to hear about it over and over again?  You’d think nobody was ever naked. 

            Well, six months ago I spoke with the Reverend J.J. Pootface and he told me about the church he founded called the Nobody is Ever Allowed to be Naked Sanctuary.  Rev. Pootface said people’s obsession with nudity is killing the country, the world, the universe.  He stated that if nobody was ever allowed to be naked the world would be a much better place. 

            Of course he had to fight off attacks from the strip club lobby and certain nudist camps.  But, eventually, the strip clubs decided to declare themselves and their activities a religion.  Now, in several states, they enjoy tax free status.  But in order for the strip clubs to be considered churches, they had to convince the government that being nude is a religious belief.  In so doing, the club owners painted themselves into a corner.   To get tax free status, everyone in the clubs had to be nude at all times, including the owners, managers, waitresses, cooks, bartenders, and patrons.  On a positive note, it forced those in the kitchen to serve healthier food.  The nude cooks refused to prepare anything that had to deep fried.  Besides that, the expression “there’s a fly in my soup” took on a whole new meaning. 

            At first things seemed to be working out great for the new Churches of Inspiration to the Uncovered Skin (COITUS) but, alas, they were doomed to failure.  It didn’t take long before the dancers were sickened to the point of illness from seeing their customers in the buff.  It’s one thing to give a lap dance to a big, smelly guy with a cigar in his mouth but it is entirely different to give the same lap dance to the same big, smelly guy with hairy rolls of fat exposed and perspiration dripping down his torso with nothing to absorb it. 

            The patrons didn’t seem to mind.  In a disturbing development, most of the nude churches doubled their customer base overnight.  Not only that, but each patron spent twice as much on drinks as they had previously.  So, with twice as many customers, each buying twice as many drinks, profits were up substantially.  It was the dancers who couldn’t take it.  After all the girls quit, the club owners decided to hire guys from the audience to dance.  Most of the patrons were so drunk they never even noticed, until that fateful night.

            At one of the nude churches in Ogelthigh, Mississippi, Blaine Headsfree was gyrating to the sounds of Lady Magagonna’s “Don’t Put That There” when his bikini bottom ripped and his entire manhood fell out.  There it was for all to see.  Blaine didn’t notice right away, but soon patrons began throwing beer, cigars, and furniture in his direction.  Because it was cigar night, there were more lit cigars thrown than anything else, thus causing the club to burn down along with most of Ogelthigh. 

            Finally, the patrons realized they had been had.  When news of the tragedy spread throughout the country, every nude church had plastered patrons protesting and running onstage to pull the bikini briefs off the dancers.  Every exposed mansack caused another riot until nude churches had gone the way of the Edsel, the enclosed phone booth, and polite talk radio.

When you are in a business meeting

  MORE FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus

            You must ask yourself, “Why am I here?”  Is it to find a way to increase sales?  Is it to keep track of who’s late and who doesn’t show up so you can leave the boss an anonymous note telling him your chief rival is a slacker?  Is it to make sure you eat as much pastry as possible because you’ve been working your butt off for the company for 14 years and they’re paying you squat? 

            If you’re sick and tired of the company, ask your boss, “Why am I here?”   If you don't mind getting fired, ask your boss, “Why are you here, dipshit?”  You could probably leave off the “dipshit” part and still get fired but, as long as you’re getting canned, you might as well go all the way.  It may not be as good as punching his lights out.  But, after all, you don’t want to get arrested.  But keep the fantasy.  It’s healthy.

              If you want to be seen as a great leader and a man or woman of vision, stand up, silently look over all in attendance, and ask each of them to tell you why they are here.  At first, they will look down and try to avoid saying anything.  But, eventually, some kiss-ass will speak up and then it will be every man and woman for him or herself.  Pretty soon you’ll have a boatload of reasons and you can pick the best one as your own.  Your boss will think you’re brilliant and you haven’t actually done a damn thing. 

            But is that who you really are?  Are you the one who thinks of ways to get everyone else to do the work while you reap all the benefits?  If so, you are well on your way to a promising career as a CEO.  Drain your scotch and formaldehyde and order another one.  There's always room on the commuter train to Oblivion.