Today I woke up and played this.
I played Super Mario Bros. until I could taste what I ate three days ago.
The taste in my mouth I couldn’t brush out with the most concerted effort.
When I wasn’t playing Super Mario Bros. I was staring at a keyboard.
Not a computer keyboard. Not a laptop keyboard.
A piano keyboard.
A thing you plugged in with less than 88 keys.
It was a strange time in my life.
Beavis and Butthead saved me from Super Mario Bros.
If it weren’t for this dynamic duo I never would’ve put down the controller.
But these two children of Mike Judge made me laugh.
And I liked laughing more than I liked playing Nintendo.
Watching it cracked me up.
I was all ready for bed, all tucked in with my teeth flossed and brushed.
Super Mario Bros. was on pause on the living room tv.
No one else could use that tv while I was playing Super Mario Bros.
It caused some frustration among the household.
My mother had soaps to watch.
My father needed to watch the Spurs.
It was a problem.
But my family understood the importance of defeating Bowser.
And for now, with Super Mario Bros. on pause, disrupting everyone’s tv schedule, Beavis and Butthead made me laugh.
I was bundled inside my comforter.
On my nightstand was a paperback copy of John Grisham’s The Firm.
One of my friends said he got his haircut from the same barber who shapes Mike Judge’s hair.
In fact, the last haircut he got, his barber told him she just got done shaping Mike Judge’s hair.
The last thing the scissors touched before touching my friend’s hair was Mike Judge’s hair.
Once my friend told me this I acted like my mind was blown.
I would go on to tell everyone I knew about my friend who got his haircut from the same scissors as Mike Judge.
Celebrity adolation isn’t what I do, but when it came to Mike Judge, to seeing how I was friends with someone who was friends with Mike Judge’s barber.
Basically, I knew Mike Judge.
My grandchildren will watch Beavis and Butthead, and I’ll nod my head and feel a special affinity for their creator.