I’ve always been called a weirdo. From earliest childhood, preschool, playground memories. Maybe that’s why the famous Muppet weirdo above (that’s Gonzo The Great, people!) was my favorite one as a kid.

Well, apparently it never wore off with age. I’ve always treated accusations of being a weirdo very matter of fact, and usually respond with “Uh, thanks!” I come by it honestly, and know better than to take it personally.

What’s weird to me is when I wind up someplace that I’m not considered weird. It doesn’t happen much, and even then it doesn’t last long. I don’t have any egoic need to be different from the pack or anything, I just am different and whatever pack I’m in constantly reinforces this. The need to voice this says more about the person saying it than it does me. It shows me where the edges of their life and perception are. Which can be useful.

Weird as I am, I’m not dangerous. I’m just doing the best I can with what I’ve got. Like anyone, I hope.