There’s never a bad idea
April in Glenwood
Last Friday, I was sitting with a longtime friend in Denver, discussing an idea we thought could make us rich. Or at least household names.
This is typical behavior for us.
For more than a decade, my friend, Taryne, and I have been coming up with hair-brained ideas — or are they as hair-brained as I think? There’s rarely a time when we get together when we’re not exploring the possibility of running our own T-shirt and bumper sticker company with witty sayings about Colorado.
Think limericks meet the Rockies.
We have also discussed having our own reality TV show, making a private label whiskey, and filming a web series of shorts with quick tips from Taryne.
The name is under tight pre-production wraps.
Taryne and I are similar in that we attended the same high school in Indiana. We both moved to Colorado — she came out West first, not knowing anyone. That’s a feat I consider impressive, especially for a woman just in her 20s.
I had to build up to that level of the courage.
Taryne and I have been through the highs and lows of each other’s relationships. And by “Taryne and I,” I’m mostly referring to myself. Lucky for us — meaning me — there have been more ups than downs. My dating pattern is the opposite of what the word pattern, by definition, even means.
I think I’m using it a little too loosely.
Pattern infers there is a plan involved, that a giant Vision Board, on which all my hopes and dreams are sketched in colored pencil, is attached to the wall above my desk. Pattern insinuates I at least have some kind of vision of the future. Maybe a willingness to commit and an openness to give a project time to grow.
Just a couple of ideas there for myself.
Taryne and I could be meant for careers in couples counseling. I helped give my opinion on miscellaneous topics from fashion to love with Steve Skinner on the radio. That was by no means considered professional-level advice.
But it was something like that.
Maybe Taryne and I could be co-therapists, in the same room with clients like a power duo. We would take on couples’ issues like two superheroines, in a tag-team format. Couples will be so afraid of being out in the dating world after they hear our stories, they’ll embrace the idea of staying together. Even if they don’t like each other.
It actually works for some couples.
I won’t speak for Taryne, but I doubt I have the attention span for the additional years of college needed to become a psychiatrist. Plus, I could be terrible at helping people with their problems. Mostly, I would want to crack jokes and that only gets a person so far in a therapy-type situation.
One idea I think may have been up for discussion over the years, if memory serves me right, is us starting a beachside oyster and Bloody Mary bar in Florida using our old nicknames. The self-appointed names can’t be printed here, and are best suited for a late-night comedy show, but will be a big draw for the Spring Break crowd. We will of course sell bumper stickers and T-shirts that will put the Vote for Pedro cult following to shame.
We will also film several episodes of Taryne’s tip-offering web series.
One encouraging aspect of any venture between us is that Taryne and I have often been described as the life of a party. It’s not as easy as it sounds. If someone looked up the definition of “life of a party” in the dictionary, there would be a photo of Taryne and me, the only two people left at a bachelorette party, including the bride. Underneath it would be another one of us being flashed by a female train conductor while rafting on the Upper Colorado.
Our true wild days might be behind us — I caught us talking about smoothies and which is better, moscato or pinot grigio the other day — but that doesn’t mean we will stop coming up with crazy ideas. We never know — people might want to buy our bumper stickers and T-shirts, and maybe even some camo koozies. Or our private-label whiskey.
We should probably get on that one immediately.
Maybe people would take our advice and there’s a couple out there we could save any day now.
Maybe our web series is going to be the next big viral thing. That’s the great part about ideas and old friendships. They are always there.
And they never stop coming to mind.
— April E. Clark may paint her face like Gene Simmons from KISS at Strawberry Days in Taryne’s honor this weekend. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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