18-10-2009
You're in San Francisco.Motown music is playing around you.
Money is no object.
When you cross the street or go out to eat in a montage, a black man or woman is singing about good times against an obnoxious brass section.
Falling down is funny.
Your part is written like you're a struggling middle class person, but you behave like money is no object and live in a mansion.
There is a special dinner this week and Robin Williams is invited.
You talk to other people about struggling and bill-paying, but you live in a 10 million dollar San Francisco residence.
It feels like the nineties.
Motown tracks have all of your moods and life changes covered.
You live in a mansion in California and Motown is playing.
You have to be two places at once.
All of your errands, however small, feel like they're building blocks in a vast architecture of nineties genre comedy that you can't see.
Robin Williams has an uncredited part in your life.
You're a suburban white person dancing around to Motown music.
Steven Spielberg enabled you.
You're a struggling artist, but you live in a mansion.
MOTOWN
WHITE
ROBIN WILLIAMS
NINETIES
SAN FRANCISCO
MANSION
MOTOWN
THIS BLOG POST WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10 MINUTES













