I can’t stand or walk, but I can noodle ideas forever
Long story short. Four years ago my right foot exploded due to a very rare bone disease. As a result, I can only walk for short distances and stand for even shorter periods of time. The problem is permanent.
For the last forty years, I’ve lived with what I call a cerebral health commodity. It’s a superpower that allows me to noodle ideas for days. Millions of people live with the commodity and dozens of blogs are devoted to the writer’s personal experience with the opportunities it presents. And, while I am a fairly open book, I dare not speak the commodity’s name. Doing so elicits uninformed responses. The smartest among you will understand my nomenclature. Taken further, my superpower makes my noodling particularly inventive.
Combining limited mobility with my superpower makes it challenging to work conventionally. I want to work again and have spent hundreds of hours teaching myself to write with clarity and creativity, with the hope that a freelance or full time career will allow me to make noodles full time.
It never should have worked
In November 1994, along with two partners, I founded a small business. On day one, we had no clients. Confronted by a telephone that we beat like a drum, a few projects rolled through the door. At the conclusion of our first year, we had billed one million dollars. From a stand still. One million dollars.
In hindsight, the business never should have worked. We were underfunded, under-connected and overly optimistic. Never mind that we had the most talented creative director on the planet in our industry. We never developed a business plan, never read our monthly financial reports and too often took “no” for an answer. But, we did get a few lucky breaks, and sometimes luck is more important than planning.
Among my double-edged contributions was the benefit of endless amounts of energy. I could go for days making noodles. In that environment, at that time, my creativity, focus and tenacity helped keep the organism alive.
I left a full time job when we founded the business. I flung myself into the unknown. I jumped off the stage, into the crowd, channeling my inner Iggy.
Iggy
The “Godfather of Punk”, Iggy Pop is a manic savant. Never afraid to throw his body into the audience with reckless trust, he’ll inevitably be caught by twenty-five hands, his spirit and body left to surf. I admire his belief in his sublime connection with those in whom he believes.
It should have worked
In 2004, I bought an existing business from someone I had known for thirty years and trusted completely. The business model was proven. The business itself had been operating for twenty years. Turns out he was a drunken thief who committed fraud. I lost everything.
I flung myself into the unknown. I jumped off the stage, into the crowd, channeling my second inner Iggy.
Trust is a bitch.
On my way to the third Iggy
I was thirty-two in 1994. In the ensuing twenty-six years, the body has been broken but the ability of the mind to work the noodle machine remains as strong as ever. When I can control my schedule and mobility, I am still a force of noodling nature. A rare force that can push everyone around me to higher levels.
A realist, I’ve played the give and take of an employment interview over and over in my head a thousand times. It rarely ends well. Too little story can be told to allay the fears of a potential employer. Too much story will reinforce the fear, no matter how stratospheric the return on investment.
Or, maybe there’s a visionary who truly understands noodle making. I’ve built my future plans on the belief that I’ll need a third Iggy.
The third Iggy
I’ve spent two years teaching myself to write. I’ve also spent two years developing simple web applications, from scratch, several of which might change the world or might only change my bank account to the tune of $200 a month.
Not everybody likes every kind of noodle.
Biggy’s balls
Most of the world never channels one Iggy, instead preferring safety. I’d prefer safety, but that ain’t the way the Godfather of Noodling built me. I take pride that I’ve fearlessly thrown myself into the crowd twice, even though the second time resulted in being beaten to a bloody mess. That experience makes me incredibly valuable.
The time might be coming to throw a fifty-seven year old noodlemaker into the mystic for the last time. Everybody who loves me — and most of those who hate me — know I’m still crazy enough to channel my inner Iggy one last time.
The third Iggy’s noodles
I’ve planned for at least four revenue streams. They work together but, if one dies, the other three are still completely viable. They may not seem like they work together, but they do. One organism. Four fingers. Copywriting is the middle finger that will probably noodle the most.
Seems perfectly sane to me. A few hyper-noodling episodes were involved in the creation of every revenue stream, but that’s what makes each noodle interesting. I’ve thrown every bit of ability, ingenuity, creativity, analysis and strength into this vision.
Spread the word about my noodles.
Sugary candy for the soul
I don’t teach, preach or sell hard. I do send out silly ten second stories about people, places and things.
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June 2022
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May 2022
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April 2022
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March 2022
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February 2022
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August 2021
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July 2021
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June 2021
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May 2021
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April 2021
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