Please, sir, I want some more

I have regaled you with stories of the famous, the near famous and not-at-all famous people. I have jogged your memory, refreshed your page, helped you look back and see the glass half full. I coaxed smile from the stress on your face.

I might have bored you here and there. Maybe I was a little too sweet for your taste. A little too pie in the sky at times. 

But I didn’t see a reason to plant my two feet on the ground considering the audience.

You have not had to endure a single pop-up ad for all this. I have asked for nothing in return. 

I was respectful that I am a guest in your house. Until now.

Please sir, can I have some more?

More Moe of the Three Stooges singling out the only quiet little boy in the crowd outside a movie theatre and waving to him from the Stooge Coach.

More running into Janis Joplin years later by accident and Pearl offering me “Want an f’ing drink” from the bottle of Southern Comfort that was in her hand?

More of after asking Mickey Mantle  for three autographs to John, I asked him for just one more for my father-in-law. He smiled and half-believing me said, “Ok what’s his name?” I answered, John. It really was. He smiled and took my pen.

Can I have some more, sir, of my son who keeps in touch and up to date almost every day by phone. I didn’t try to be his friend. Only his father. And we ended up being friends.

(Less of when the other kids, even after being downgraded to text messages, don’t text me back.)

More, sir. I'm hungry for more of the slow food movement and more of the Anti-FaceBook people.

More of the instant gratification that is the struggle to write. More of the instant gratification that is in the joy of cooking.

More communion.

More because we all have more to offer you - and each other.
More feelings, sir or madam.

More feeling, kind sir.

More being on your own. Needing nothing. Nothing to lose, not a thought to the consequences. The good parts of nothing.

More, not of man-made entitlements but what we’re all naturally entitled to. Parents who teach us how to fly and, then, show me the door – and the way – but not before we’re ready.

Teachers who believe in us. Tell us we can do it and help us believe in ourselves.

Friends, or maybe just people in general, that give us a sense of we’re all in this together.

I’d like more of these things. I know there’s more than enough to go around.