I’m not really a fan of happiness because they seem like a waste of time. Something two people say to each other before they can speak the real things to each other. While years ago, more and more of our verbal interactions make the form of supported pleasures. Little feelings, that people say each other true. It’s about what they want to look at, how they are best positioned on their own, agenda.
That’s a reason I always love the attitude of Peterson’s attitude in Sitcom “Cheers,” which George Wendt was played, now leaving his tab at the age of 76 and left the earth.
The behavior is universal from the first time he has entered hostelry – as often student and less effective waitress Dian rooms to put them in.
There is no more artefuled ingress in American television history than any majority made of behavior, and it is very good, and there are many rooms in each of the performance.
You know GAG: The behavior comes through the door, ready for a cold beer, someone asked him how he did, and he answered.
But there is more than this, nothing? I hesitate to call the gag a gag, because it is filled with a quality that is more unique to our world: reliable.
The behavior doesn’t care about the question – “How is the world treating you, behavior?” – As the admonition warns. Which is what we always do.
At one stage, his response was, “This is a world’s food world, and I wear the underwear of the milk bone.” A question of “What shakes?” prompts an answer to “all four cheeks and a couple of chins.”
But in real life, if someone asks us how we are, we say, “good, and you?” The fact is, we only automatically answer, no one’s mind, and we can’t listen to any response that other people give.
But a strange idea to ask someone what they are and care about the answer. To invest their benefit from the beginning. In jettison pretensions and formalities. And how it will take to treat a requested question with others care. Maybe it’s all moved to attention.
The behavior is often answered in fact. He gave his interlocutor – and the bars of the bar enjoy his parts – a response to the tart painted in WIT. But he was also ready to go there. And where is that? In a humble place. To acquire struggle.
Today, life’s life is probably not as difficult. She had a house, had a wife standing next to her even if she spent her gang nights with cheers – always decorating her phone calls. She never works at that when she works.
In a world now roged with loneliness, it’s easy to look at the behavior and think, “I want to have what the village is.” The behavior has people. He is both and loved.
Times have changed. I don’t think you can be a cheers-type setup at the moment of life, but you may not have one without a mirror. Appeared to be adapted. But there is truth and wisdom of both “cheers” and behavior, without those who are not happy. And we can still want to. We are needed.
In “crime and punishment,” Dostoevsky wrote that everyone needs a place. A place can be a person. This will help us to be ourselves. Naked and open. To emotionally. Spiritually.
The behavior never feels necessary to adorn. He owns his struggles – what is his depression. His failures. He destroyed the mots of bones with entry like thirsty pascal paying for his drinks in Pensées, making him an inspiration.
Gag never can be less effective. This is the sitcom analogue of “trick,” Conan Peole term for when Sherlock Holmes Dromels Dr. Watson by someone by looking at their stick.
I remember looking at the behavior when I was 8 and even though he thought it was cool. This is not a star athlete. He can live across the street. He killed me – while he laughed at me – just by being brave to tell the truth where he was.
With behavior, the quoteian is not just the quoteian. It’s like baseball: everyone says it is in May this time, no matter, but all the games count any games.
That’s how to live, and we have George Wendt to thank the example of the behavior, because you can’t imagine others in part. About the question of how the world is treating the behavior, I think the answer is in any way in which way the fact is what is important in the world. Worth a round home.
Colin Fleming is the author, most recent, in “Sam Cooke: Live at Harlem Square Club, 1963.”
