Every once in a good century or so, innovation faces its own mortality and forces itself to evolve into something so wonderful, so magnificent, that it eliminates the possibility of ever reaching a demise. Like a hideous, disgusting caterpillar coming to terms with its ugly grossness, we've reached a new point where we can say, "I've had enough of this crap; it's butterfly time."
There was a time when everybody had to go through their caterpillar phase, but thanks to a certain someone (me), we don't have to. We won't have to waste half of our lives as larvae, and we sure as hell don't need to squeeze into any cocoons. If I wanted to squeeze into something that tight, I'd go scuba diving.
Now, I know what you're thinking, "But fair maven of ingenuity (me, again), I thought you weren't able to go scuba diving due to your collapsed lungs." To which I respond, "Where on earth did you hear such a stupidly untrue fact?" But honestly, I don't need to ask a question like that. I already know the answer: your imagination. Somewhere in your mind, synapses are abuzz with the notion that I, with my heavy-duty lung fragility issues, have no business going snorkeling through the deep shores off the coast of Maui. That's your instinct telling you that.
But what about attitude?
Do I have two collapsed lungs? Yes. Would a doctor tell me it's advisable for me to go scuba diving in deep water? Absolutely not. Have you ever met a doctor that wasn't a worrywart? I don't know, have you? Let me ask you a better question: Have I recently been snorkeling through the deep shores off the coast of Maui? I don't know, have I?
Some people think they need a physical device to solve their problems, but others (like me, for example) know that that's not the case. We don't need a cocoon to become a butterfly. What we need to do is look into the mirror and tell ourselves, "From now on, I am a butterfly. Capisce?" 'Capisce', by the way, is New Jersey lingo for 'understand?', and I bring that up because it's important that you understand because there's nothing understandable about not understanding. Capisce?
I'll level with you. Sometimes when I try to explain this concept, there are always a couple of slow Joes in the back row who stand up and ask for their money back. They're looking for an easy solution. What they don't know is that I'm giving them an easy solution. But they think it's too easy, so they get up, bother my assistant, Joan, for the $380, and they leave. They can forget about the application fee and nonrefundable deposit, though. Even the biggest skeptics know what 'nonrefundable' means. But where do they go after they leave? Do they go home? Do they get lunch somewhere? Do they take their $380 to an adult video store and buy pornography? I don't know, do they?
I'll tell you what they don't do: They don't learn. They don't see the light. They don't grab a hold of the opportunities staring them coldly in their eye asking to be embraced with warm, wide, open arms, telling those opportunities, "Where have you been all my life?" To put it another way, they don't capisce.
So, where does that leave you? You're all still glued to your seats finding out how a certain somebody (yeah, you know who) makes a healthy living showing people how to be themselves the way they want to be themselves. Well, I'm not here to tell you how to achieve a goal or live a dream. I'm here to tell you that you can. You all have wings. All you need to do is flap them. See how aerodynamic you can get. And if it costs you $380 plus fees for a guy with lungs no more durable than a slice of cheese to show you the way, then I say, "Amen". Then I say, "Give yourselves a great big hand. You can now go forth and be."
[After applause, take questions from audience to fill the rest of the half-hour.]
