"Does Anybody Else Feel Like This?"
In real life
I could never live up to Jack Blanchard.
He’s younger and thinner than I am.
He never has a rash or a bad hair day,
like I do.
He writes songs and stories that amaze me.
I don’t have a clue how to do those things.
He’s a cowboy, a professor, and a singer.
I worry about expenses,
and try to figure out why the car won’t start.
Everybody knows him.
The clerks at Wal-Mart call me “sir”
without looking at me.
I look in the mirror
and can’t figure that guy out.
The fish eyes just stare back at me.
They never move.
I’d like to sneak up on the bum just once.
I know that he and I have the same name
because that’s how the bills come in.
Hand me a picture of a group of people
and I can’t help staring at Blanchard.
It’s not vanity.
I’m just trying to see what other people see.
It’s a little like sneaking up on him.
I let my belt out a notch today.
Mister Bigshot wouldn’t do that.
Some kind of flu bug is going around our neighborhood.
Guess which one of us is going to get it.
Here's Mister Bigshot
wearing a suit I can't even get into.
Copyright © December 20, 2002 by Jack Blanchard. All rights reserved.
