I hate being sick, especially when people are having a good time around you. That was the situation I found myself in a few weeks ago when enjoying my friend McKenna’s surprise 30th birthday party. Sick as the proverbial dog, I was loaded up on enough cold pills, Advil and nasal spray to medicate most of Western Canada, longing for the time when I would be back to 100%. I must have done something right as I won my first ever live poker tourney, setting the stage for my 2010 debut at the World Series of Poker.
Between that, and the recent influx of newborns for my work pals, got me to thinking about the idea of being at 100%. Realistically, is there anytime when our bodies are truly perfect and in full-functioning form? Birth? Six years old? 20? 60? I think our bodies are like a cell phone battery. At some point, they’re perfect and in full-functioning mode. Then with time, the capacity of which it can fully charge dwindles. You randomly charge it for a few minutes in the car or at home but might not fully finish the job because you’re rushing. Without notice one day, you notice that you’re not getting a lot of life out of what normally was the medicine for recharging it. Eventually, your battery dies, drained by years of use and, at times, neglect. To me, our bodies and overall well-being are often drained and then ‘recharged’ by a long weekend, a vacation or a good book. But we never get back to what the thought of 100 percent really is and I don’t think it’s even possible.
And that’s my dissertation on how we’re like cell phone batteries. I have little-to-no idea about what that has to do with being sick, but put that in the ‘stream of thought’ column. In looking over it, I guess that could be metaphorical for love as well. In any case, I think I might be the smartest guy in the world.
—-A BIG shoutout to my buddy Matt Paul who made an appearance this past week on ESPN’s game show, “Stump The Schwab.” “Stump” is a trivia show where three contestants match wits and knowledge with ESPN’s lead statistical researcher and uber nerd, Schwab. While knocked out in the 2nd round by a kid best described by Matt as needing “a pet or a hobby or something. Anything to keep him from being damned as the eternal virgin, I was still full of pride for my old workmate at the Maine Campus. Matt is one of those people who truly is loved by everyone and has one of the greatest personalities of anyone that I’ve ever known. I look back on our college years and wish I had taken the time to know him better, but hope that our friendship can be strengthened in upcoming years. You’re a hell of a guy, Matt Paul. (But you still should have known that Jerry West was already said.)
–Something I don’t miss about the hockey season: friends that call you while you’re working in a constant effort to remind of what a good time you’re missing. The world is lucky I’m such a nice guy and don’t have a gun permit.
–What’s the deal with lazy eyes anyway?
–I’ve taken to the hardwood, so to speak, joining a group of co-workers and their friends in Tuesday Night Hockey, a weekly roller-hockey league full of spills and thrills. I am one of two goalies (no skating required) and get fitted up in full pads for two hours. Absolutely exhausting but exhilarating at the same time. It’s pretty awesome to be complimented on something that you’ve never done before. Any interested agents can leave a message on my cell.
—-I don’t think there’s any worse feeling than being let down by one of your friends. Just a thought.
—-Finally, the Triangle of Fun reunites for the first time in months on Memorial Day weekend when my buds King, Clyde and I will meet up for a holiday weekend of debauchery. Viva la memories!
I think that’s about it…enjoy the 10 Wirt Street eulogy below!
be good or be good at it,