Recently, I fell crazy in love. The unfortunate decline to my proclamation came with a simple explanation. “You’re crazy.”
“What do ya mean ‘crazy’? I asked, stunned at the notion.
The reply was a polite mumble. I didn’t press it. Sometimes it’s best to let certain things go.

Several days later I met my friend Lucy for a drink.
“What in the hell could that have meant? Crazy! Me?”
Lucy looked away and stared deep into her cocktail, searching for words. “It’s… your charm,” she answered.
I wanted to ask what in the hell that meant, but sometimes it’s best not to know these things.

There are many types of crazy. I’d really like to know in which category I am perceived. Then again, sometimes it’s best not to ask these questions.

In defense of my good character, this accusation needs some light.
There is crazy-wild. I’ll cop to that; the streak is wide.
I’m always the last man standing.
Crazy-screwball is well documented. I’m always hanging from a chandelier, a cliff or the outside of a bedroom window.
Simple minds confuse crazy with passionate. Academics muddle it with bold audacity.
Crazy-fun is an art form, appreciated by a refined elite of whom I am a jaded chapter leader.
Beyond that, I can’t figure out what in the hell the comment could have meant.

Just this week, Rob Brezsny who writes the ‘Free Will Astrology’ says I am “a radiant bundle of fascinating contradictions.” That’s crazy, but I can go with it.

In support of this theory, I will argue both sides of the issue. With the mind-bending heat wave and troops amassing at my every border, you could say I have been acting out. The two burning ends of my candle are getting close to the center. In a charming way.

Right now I have a solo show up. That’s always crazy-making. And contradictory. Pride and doubt. Hope and fear. Strong and needy. Invincible yet wholly vulnerable. I’ve been living on emotional tenterhooks; it’s driving me crazy.

There is a hilarious video in the show. If you saw it, and didn’t now me, you’d think I was crazy.

The show, the second in the ‘Fortuna’ series, is about a vision. Not so long ago, a deity appeared before me, shining like God’s own disco ball, and announced that it was my destiny to bring peace to the world. This may sound whacked, but at least I have goals.

I am quitting my sweet and easy day job in order to follow the vision. (World peace is not part time.) I know it’s crazy to leave this dream job because now I wake up, every morning at 3AM, worried about money.
I am going to risk all that I have and all that I am on ‘Fortuna.’
The next chapter in my life has me crazy with fear.
I’m crazy with impatience.

Regardless of what others may think or what my criminal attorney may say, I am not crazy. However, I do believe that a devil’s horn is growing from my forehead. I am glad to be alive, but not fully convinced. I suddenly have a desperate need to fall in love. I prefer addictions to children. I like to wear a sarong. I’m not as savvy as I think I am. I believe in the good of mankind and a harmonious universe.

In this world of so many horrors, I may be laughing like a crazy idiot, but at least it keeps me from crying.

I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m really not crazy. It just looks that way because I work very hard to keep myself amused. This is a full time job for a very demanding audience.
I rest my case.