Damn. It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta.

My beautifully bespoke therapeutic plan to end this crazy messed up year all came about from witnessing a meltdown moment when I was out buying water, mouthwash, and blueberries one simmering afternoon.

I was waiting in a long line this past summer at the grocery store. Watching yet another argument over mask wearing erupt between Covid-rattled shoppers during this pandemic. Ughh.

I simply could not take one more of those shouting matches. So to protect myself in those situations, I've become conditioned to go into a daydream mode. Entering an imaginary world. One that I have created. Where I am safe.

And it all starts with that scene of Sally Field breaking down at the cemetery in Steel Magnolias. Her young daughter just died. She just wants to hit something. And have it hurt as much as she was hurting right then.

My land of make-believe rolls on to the Along Came Polly cathartic film moment when Jennifer Aniston and Ben Stiller happily destroy all those excessive and annoying throw pillows on the bed.

In this made-for-me movie, the next thrilling sequence is from the cult sensation Office Space.

The boys in the field venting their frustrations. Destroying the antagonistic printer while taking turns with a Louisville Slugger. Accompanied in their batting practice with just the right music. Sort of like selecting the perfect Sauvignon Blanc to go with the Chilean Sea Bass dinner.

Finally, my kith and kin. This exceptional Walter Mitty experience wraps up by having Macauley Culkin in Home Alone jumping up and down on his parents' bed. Yelling excitedly. Zapatos on.

So naturally I put that all together and created some totally awesome artistry in my head involving all those silver screen moments. Spectacular editing work. Maybe Academy acknowledged.

As it turns out. This is helping me get through the difficulties of this one-of-a-kind year. My therapist on the spot when it's been needed. And I've had to break the glass often. To enter my little escapist motion picture world.

It's also assisting me in dealing with an unexpected move. And to process my little brother's Stage 4 cancer diagnosis from earlier this spring. As if the last 12 months weren't bad enough.

I made a fun decision last week. Bring it all alive. Yes Doctor Frankenstein. It's alive. Well. It will be soon. I don't want to only imagine this therapy in my head anymore.

My friend is having me come over and house sit over the holidays. He has lots and lots of throw pillows on every bed and each couch. Far, far too many. I will be there. Home alone.

So…with five minutes to go before the ball drop in Times Square. It will be time to let my hair down.

I will walk into my pal's master bedroom. Ask Alexa to play Still by the Geto Boys. You know. The song playing while the Office Space guys reconfigured that printer out on the grassy knoll.

I am mad, hurting, and ready to hit something Sally Field. Of course I am. It's been a dastardly year.

Then. If I may (and I will) steal a one-word epic line uttered from Lord Voldemort to initiate the battle of Hogwarts. Begin. And so it shall. Begin for me.

To hit and punch those throw pillows. Without the knives from Along Came Polly. C'mon. That's a little too Tarantino for me. Just my frustrated fists. That should do just fine Jennifer and Ben.

For the big finale. To celebrate like eight-year-old Kevin by jumping up and down on that California King just after the pillow drop at midnight. Yes. Shoes will be on.

No more daydreaming. The countdown is on Major Tom.

Yeah. It's goofy. But it's mine. That's my grown-up Christmas wish. I truly can't think of a better isolated way for me to let off steam and say goodbye to 2020. Damn. It feels good to be a Gangsta.

This release of toxins is brought to you by that guy of four, three, two, one. That guy of sometimes you just gotta say what the f*%# is Ron Blake and he's probably not housesitting at rblake5551@hotmail.com anymore.

About the Author

Ron Blake Ron Blake is an artist and writer born in Gary, Indiana and raised with four siblings in the Chicago suburbs. Blake graduated with an MPA from Indiana University. He is a proud honorary Pennsylvanian contributing articles for Erie Gay News since the Obama Presidency. Also contributing articles and Op-Ed pieces for numerous LGBT publications as well as for USA Today, the Chicago Tribune, and Austin American-Statesman. He now resides in sunny Phoenix, Arizona. Instagram, Ron Blake (@blakelateshow) | TikTok, Ron Blake | LinkedIn