by Taylor Kingsbury
Staff Writer
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Campus Times
December 3, 2004
I've often been accused of being a negative, smarmy prick. I'll concede that this assessment is fair enough, especially since I'm the last person who should be telling anyone their opinions are wrong.
I respect any input on my work that is levied my way, and every piece of it has some impact on what I do, whether I'm conscious of it or not.
Now, if an attempted rapist writes me a letter calling me a “dumbass” that can't tell the difference between Spanish people and Mexicans (true story), I'm not really going to respond to that in print. Oh, wait, I guess I just did. I hope you die, you f**k.
But, when Kenyon, perhaps the nicest person I've ever met, tells me that he'd like to see a column about things that make me happy, I'm obliged to comply.
So, for Kenyon, and anyone else who cares, here are some things that make me happy. And, no, they're not in order.
Music makes me happy. The joy I receive from listening to, creating and performing music brings me an indescribable amount of happiness. Music, to me, is the most powerful universal force in the entire world. It transcends age, race, sex, religion, culture and time, and no matter who you are, you have been touched by music in some way. Hell, even plants respond to music. I'm told they like my column, too.
More specifically, “Don't Stop Believing” makes me happy. Let's face it, Journey wrote what is probably the most perfect song ever constructed. The message is poignant, the dynamic is incendiary, and the hook is undeniably uber-hummable. So, you think it's cheesy? That's fine. You can listen to your new Chingy record instead.
My girlfriend makes me happy. She is the most beautiful, wonderful, caring, fun and overall amazing creature ever spawned onto this planet. When I'm with her, everything else in the world ceases to exist, and that's fine, because I love having the world to ourselves. I will be forever changed in the best possible way by everything she has brought into my life. I love you, angel.
Mashed potatoes make me happy. The man who first decided to grind potatoes into a fine paste, slather them in butter, and smear them across a plate deserves to be declared a saint. Actually, he nearly was. The year was 1744, and the man's name was Thaddeus Mashe. In fact, the verb “mash” was literally created because of his contribution to the potato medium. Okay, I made all that up, but you believed me, if only for a second. And that makes me happy, too.
Puppies make me happy. Eddie is mine, and he's about the best dog I've ever known, even though he's more like a horse. You have to love an animal that will stay loyal to you, even after you beat the crap out of it. I haven't tested this theory on Eddie, but my girlfriend sticks around, so I think he would too.
Friends make me happy. No, not the show; that makes me murderous. I mean real friends, not those random people you meet in class and share small talk with. Don't get me wrong, you guys are great, too. But when I say “friends,” I speak of that tiny circle of people that you know would give their life for you in a second, and that you would do the same for without blinking an eye. You honestly think your sorority sisters would do that for you? I'm afraid not, but chances are, they'd be willing to screw your man after you gave your life for them. Hell, they probably already are.
Beer makes me happy. By far the finest libation ever concocted, good beer tastes so fantastic that the buzz is simply a pleasant bonus. Yeah, sure, that part makes me happy too, but I don't have much control over that, do I?
Satan makes me happy. The Dark Lord gave us sex, drugs and rock 'n roll, all of which make me really, really happy. I mean, you probably like God more, and more power to you, but, honestly, what has He given you? Peace? Love? Heaven? Well, sex, drugs and rock 'n roll bring us peace, give us things to love, and take us to heaven. So, Satan is better. Oh, yeah, sarcasm makes me happy too.
Writing makes me happy. Apparently, my writing doesn't make most of you happy; it actually pisses you off. But, if I offend, perturb, annoy or ire you, then I've obviously gotten some reaction out of you. And that makes me happy too.
Furthermore, I am incredibly happy that I have managed to incite acclaim, generate numerous awards, enhance my writing experience, create countless clips for my portfolio, and ensure that whether you like me or not, you know who I am.
I did all of this simply by talking endless amounts of smack and convincing the rotating staff of Campus Times editors to keep printing it.
I scammed you all good, and that makes me happy.
So, that's my list. I could have written so much more, but I'm out of space, and you're bored.
But, even the fact I'm out of space makes me happy, because that means that I only have one more column to write, and then I will be able to retire from my tenure at the Campus Times and emerge from the University of La Verne as a certified graduate.
And, holy crap, that really makes me happy.
Taylor Kingsbury, a senior journalism major, is a columnist for the Campus Times. He can be reached by e-mail at happyendingrocks@hotmail.com.