Saturday, August 4, 2012

The Elixir for the Pain that Living Brings

It is my lot in life to go through it as a cantankerous prick of misery.  I spent the entire day in Philadelphia on Thursday - not by choice of course but for work.  As we wrapped up the day's work and I headed out towards my car with one of the other members of my group we were making conversation about whatever the hell it was we were talking about when I said to her, "I am not a person who converts strangers into friends.  And I have not one regret about it."  She laughed....until she realized that I was serious. 

I do not subscribe to the theory that life is a popularity contest.  If it is, then I am screwed - and have been for as long as I can recall.  I am a person with a number of "acquaintances" and scant few friends.  Neither the world nor I consider that to be a bad thing. 

Margaret may very well be the most remarkable woman alive.  She handles being married to a jackass with aplomb. Based upon her incredibly high level of functioning, balancing not only running our home but Joe's as well (as per his request) with her full-time job, I presume that she copes with it by some means other than chemicals.  One day I might be brave enough to ask her just how she does it.  One day.  Today shall not be that day.  And tomorrow?  Not likely. 

She deserves better than me - a fact of which I am aware, anyone who has spent forty-six seconds in the company of either or both of us is aware and of which almost two decades into this experiment she appears to be blissfully unaware.  I do not pretend to understand it.  I just breath a sigh of relief that it works.  And hope like hell that it continues to do so. 

Someone - I think it was the legendary football coach Bill Walsh - once quipped that, he would rather have an ounce of luck than a pound of skill.     As one who is woefully unskilled, I concur wholeheartedly. 

In a world of doubt and fear, luck is a precious commodity.  Trust me on this.  I know of which I speak.


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