How did we start with A? When you think about it, we never question the order that our alphabet bet is in, yet it dictates so much of our life – our place in line during gym, who we sit next to in class, the location of our locker, cubicle, or even car.
And this would be fine, if all letters were created equal.
But they’re not.
Every letter has its own story that connotes something different in our minds.
A is the ego, the line leader – famous for being first.
B is the big brother who eats too much, but not one can ever get the strength to tell him that, one day, he will lose his legs to diabetes.
C is the cool cat that doesn’t understand science, but has never had to because he can smile at things that are very serious.
D is the beginning of nickname and the end of a train line – a place where joke starts and journey ends. It’s just d.
E rhymes with D and has many of its, and C’s, characteristics. E makes things happen.
F is powerful like a rinocerous in heat. Do not touch. No pictures please.
G is round and flowerful like a bachelor uncle who is a homosexual. G will give you really good birthday presents, even though you wouldn’t mind if he forgot about the party.
H is the strong, silent type like the hostess at a japanese steakhouse. Know it, count on it, but never let it know where you live.
I is worth its weight in cross country skis. Whatever that means.
J has many nickname forms, but mostly conjures up images of unsolved murders in a trailer park. Close your eyes, think “J” – ahh, there they are.
K is like an eastern bloc hooker who has never met a cheeseburger. Lonely and willing to accept any offer given, K frequents bowling alley parking lots.
L belongs to the world of slang and abused hip-hop phonetics. Its vernacular use is closely tied to the inverse correlation between rap album releases and the Dow Jones Index.
M sells things out of her kitchen, makes enough to live by and desperatley wants to move to that “farm”.
N is a transaction oriented Aries who like to make things happen. N is blinded by the possibilities of today.
O is continous and harminous and feels most at home in rural parts of Canada.
P is the drunk friend of a friend at Karaoke night. P is a white collar slave that has given up on the dream.
Q is the most potent of the letters. Like enriched uranium, a little dab will do.
R worked for years to make partner and, now that he has, will never let you forget about it. He belongs to all the city clubs, even though his workout consists of sitting in the steam and then jumping in the pool. Suspenders, everywhere.
S is evil and not to be trusted. It represents both the fall of man and the pain and guilt that has kept him there. We depend on it, just like any addict has to.
T is a bouncer at a dance club in Memphis. Short, and five years behind in style, he lives at the intersection of the napoleanic complex and too much gel.
U is the personal-impersonal side of capitalism. Everything is yours to have, nothing is yours to keep.
V represents the duality of women; dependable, thoughtful, needed – erratic, malicious, desperate.
W is the regal emperor whose reign is simply symbolic. Interoggative in nature, it rarely gives an answer worth implementation.
X represents the seedy underbelly of alphabet city. One alleyway, one red light bulb, one night you will never forget.
Y is the all-accepting monotheistic bumper sticker. One concept, many executions; truth has many paths.
Z is the magic mirror, taking your projections and reflecting what you want to see, but, as Garth Brooks said, “some of God’s greatest gifts are unaswered prayers.”
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