California in the 60s embodied the best of America: great schools, wonderful bands, nice clean beaches that extended into infinity. I used to walk around the beach, hanging out, practicing my voice for the choir. I felt blessed knowing that I had been chosen to become a child actor, a career that had no negative side effects whatsoever.
Having so much power felt great. I played Tommy in the hit TV show “Eight is Enough”. Eight was more than enough, with me being the main attraction. The other children were mere decorations compared to the grit and soul I gave to Tommy’s character. Later in “Charles in Charge” I played Buddy, a cool bro with Scott Baio. Together we changed the face of Television.
Off the set, I became a buddy to many as well. My all-night parties are still talked about to this very day. A few of them lasted for days, as I played the hell out of my guitar for my indie rock band “Willie Ames & Paradise”. Successfully I wooed many young starlets with my songs about drinking, doing drugs, and having crazy amounts of sex.
Life felt great. I nearly won an Oscar for my role in the hit movie “Zapped”. Work came to me like the sun did in the morning. Everything would last forever in the 80s. I was king of the world.
Sadly, my reign got cut short by the 90s. In the 90s, people stopped doing as many drugs. Worried, I saw a therapist, but he didn’t help. Instead, my therapist appeared to be enabling me with my bad behavior. So I continued doing a ton of drugs and alcohol.
Things became real one day though. As I stood in line at 7/11 at 4 in the afternoon, completely out of my mind on Quaaludes, a little girl coming home from school began singing:
Charles in Charge
Of our days and our nights
Charles in Charge
Of our wrongs and our rights
And I sing, I want,
I want Charles in Charge of me.
I thought I was in charge of my life. But here I was, freaking out heavily in the aisle of a 7/11, stealing pet food to eat. The song reminded me of being younger, more responsible. Charles, I remembered him well. He was the therapist I saw, who I stole his kid’s college fund of $80,000 to buy more blow. Obviously he enabled me, by allowing me to go on his computer while he went to the bathroom and removing funds from his online checking account. It was a test of faith, and I passed.
Rehab looked good. For a while, I thought I’d just try methamphetamines, but Christianity appealed to me slightly more. Plus, I didn’t really have enough money for any more drugs, so Christianity had a lower money threshold.
Being a born again Christian, I decided to repent for my wicked ways. I wrote my former therapist Charles a thank you note for the $80,000 I stole from him. It read:
Dear Charles, Thank you for the $80,000.I used it to buy blow.Due to my large purchase I got a discount. It was good shit.
Around that time, I figured why not let other people understand the joy I had in discovering the Lord. Watching Spiderman expose himself to children, and Batman’s generally erratic behavior, I thought why not create a more stable superhero. Too many superheroes harbored grunges. Instead of that, I figured have a Superhero who gained his powers from passages in the Bible. Someone told me that the superhero should be named “Bibleman” but I told that ‘someone’ to get out of my face.
Bibleman ended up a tremendous success. I not only got to reappear on TV but taught children about the joys of worshipping Jesus. Then the criticism came in. Rather than journalists taking hold of my comparison to “High Budget Sunday School mixed with Batman” they instead described it as “overweight man quotes passages from the Bible”. Others stated that even though Veggietales were animated vegetables they had more soul than the hallowed out shell I had.
I tried to not let it bother me. Moving to Kansas to escape it all, I realized I couldn’t afford Kansas since I had no money. Quoting the bible, I stated that “It is easier for a camel to pass through the hole of a needle than a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven” – some dude in the Bible. No matter what I did, becoming an ordained minister, fighting evil doers with bible passages, nothing worked. Without anyone to turn to, I moved back to Los Angeles.
On Thanksgiving Day I thought about what I was thankful. I said quietly to myself, tears welling up in my eyes “Nothing”. Mulling over what I should do next, I looked at the Bible. Asking myself “What would Jesus do?” I came to the answer “Kill Himself”. Disappointed at how dark the Bible was, and how I didn’t really understand it so hot, I began to prepare myself for suicide.
Trying to place a noose on the ceiling fan, the table broke beneath my legs. Stupid table, I yelled at the inanimate object. Extracting its revenge, a piece of the wooden table stuck itself in my ass. Calling the hospital, I underwent emergency ass surgery.
My doctor came in with a stoic expression on her face. Reading my charts, she solemnly stated “You may never fart again.” Days went by as a thought of a world without farts. Children played outside my room, I watched them from my bed. One of the kids asked the other “Pull my finger”. I literally broke down and shoved my head into my pillow, uncontrollably sobbing. Luckily for me, the surgery was successful but my farting situation remained tenuous at best.
For weeks I walked around with a cast around my ass, drawing all sorts of unwanted attention. By staying inside, I avoided the taunts of schoolchildren. Catching up on music, my last true salvation, I stumbled upon music blogs. These music blogs offered various repeating links, to Pitchfork and Tiny Mix Tapes. One displayed a different sort of link, to a place called “Hipster Runoff”. Reading it, I felt relevant for the first time in years. His writing spoke to my soul. I re-wrote the “Charles in Charge” theme song into “Carles in Charge”. Upon the liquidation of my estate in Kansas, Carles suggested we meet up.
Carles’s real name is Poindexter Dinkelhof the III, a 42 year old accountant from Wichita, Kansas. Meeting him at a local Chili’s with his wife, he explained to me how I could turn my life around. For him, music gave him an outlet that he didn’t have in his real job. His children loved him for it, he said. Do something that you’ve always wanted to do, change your life he told me.
Feeling inspired and bankrupt, I became a licensed financial advisor. Since I went into bankruptcy and hit rock bottom, I decided my woes were things others might learn from. Also, I got a job working as entertainment for a cruise line, fulfilling my dreams of becoming a true-blue traveler of the world.
In my free time I created a music blog in the style of HRO, except not as good. Naming it “Beach Sloth” it began late this summer.
Why the name, you might ask? Well, since I’m a big believer in Christianity, I wanted to convert all beings into Christianity, beginning with the animals. Since sloths are named after a sin, I wanted to reach out to them first.
Once I get enough money, I want to lure the sloths to the beach by putting lots of comfy pillows on the sand. After they are lulled to sleep, I will then baptize them. Upon their baptism, I’ll offer them coffee so they might be more productive members of society.
Hopefully you’ve learned something about me today. I heart all of you.