My Journal 135

Wasn’t yesterday just a beautiful day?

Ok, back to being me. As you already know I have a lot of trust issues which have plagued me for my adult life. I am constantly looking for scams or lies. Yes, it’s a horrible habit. So I thought that if maybe I explained myself people would understand better.

Maybe . . . . Or not?!?!

As a kid I was “taken for a ride” the normal number of times. I tended to trust people immediately, but I always had this sense of good and evil. I just ignored it back then as I wasn’t sure. But then, during my hiatus from college, I had this unique job. It was one of those unusual jobs where if you trust people, the chances of not surviving increases drastically.

When I asked to leave that job, they spent a lot of time convincing me that I can trust people. It didn’t take.

Basically, I learned not to trust. It became a contest to me that whenever I met someone I would wait and watch for how long it took for them to lie about something. So I would ask about something, wait a while, and then ask the same question in a different format later. It amazed me how many times I would get a different response. Many noticed their error, and I did enjoy seeing the look on their face when they realized they had been “busted”.

I never really got past that. Today when I meet someone I instantly don’t trust them. It usually takes well over a year for me to develop a trust. Not just trust like, “Can you watch my coat for a while?” No this is the sort of trust where you get to know me. It’s the kind of trust where you learn some of my secrets. The kind of trust where I actually let you see the real I and not the person I want you to see.

Since 1980 there has only been one person that won my complete trust in less than a day, and that was last May. I did meet someone so different that I immediately opened up with them. And they didn’t run away screaming. Whew! Since then I have a few moments where I sort of caught this person bending things a little, but I think they already have my trust.

Anyway, way back then was when I started not trusting people.

Conversely, I seriously try to be honest with people. I’m talking about the big stuff now, not the little things. I mean if someone got up a Karaoke night and did horribly, but really thought they did well; and then asked my opinion I would probably fudge the truth a bit to make them feel better. Of course it really would come down to how much I liked them, if not I could tell them the truth anyway.

But with the big stuff I try to be honest. I don’t just sit down and tell people everything immediately. I usually lead them down a path and see how they respond. And like I said before, it takes a long time to win my trust . . . well, except for the one individual that had this magic of some sort.

The main reason I try to be honest is I don’t want to get caught in a lie. It is embarrassing and humiliating. Also, when I used to lie regularly, like everyone else, I would get confused a lot. I would see someone I had talked to before and I would try to remember what I told them. If I couldn’t remember, I had to avoid them. All that would make my head hurt.

Plus I have enough problems keeping my head above water as is. Trying to tread through the tides of life while trying to dodge all the sharks (lies) tend to be very wearing. I know people that regularly lie, and they are always tired. I completely understand how that could happen.

It is hard to do, trust me I know this. Many times a day I am faced with a situation where I probably should tell someone something and I struggle with it. And yes, not telling someone something that you should tell them is a lie also. So something would happen and immediately I knew what I was supposed to do. Sometimes, based on the person or the situation, it takes a while to finally spit it out. (By the phrase “takes a while” I am meaning moments, not days). I do get to it though.

The hardest thing to me though is to be honest when you really believe that the person you are talking to doesn’t really give a shit. For example, saying to someone, “Man, what you did really bothered me” when you believe that they don’t care about you at all is hard. And yes, if I believe someone doesn’t care I sometimes don’t tell them.

Maybe that means I am a liar too?

Or how about if you REALLY like someone but you are fairly sure they don’t feel as strongly for you. Should you tell them how you feel? You should be able to. But I think society has established some standards where you can be ostracized for telling someone that you care about them when they don’t care about you. I guess that is a lie too. And I very seldom tell anyone how I feel about them.

I guess in my feeble mind, this is alright because you are withholding information that would have no affect on the person anyway. I mean if they don’t like you then why would they want to know that you like them? But if you have any information that would affect someone then I definitely believe that it needs to be shared, no matter how embarrassing it might be.

So that’s the scoop. Questions?

My Journal 134

How was my weekend you ask?

I guess ODD would be the appropriate response.

I arranged to send my mom flowers a few weeks ago for Mother’s Day. While I was ordering them, I remembered that I have two female friends that are mothers, but in the particular situation where possibly no one would send them anything. So, being the “NICE GUY” that I am I sent gifts to both of them.

There were more oddities, especially pertaining to the current relationship status of both of them, but to be as brief as possible I will leave that part alone.

Mom gets her flowers just fine. She calls me to say thank you and all is well. One of my friends gets her flowers. She sends me a text message thanking me, and mentioning that this was the only gift she received. (Wow, I made her day) Now both of these wonderful ladies got a typical Mother’s Day Bouquet, and they both arrived as planned. So far so good.

For the other lady, I wanted to do something EXTRA special. On her birthday I wasn’t able to send her anything. She is one of those dreaded “taken women”. But I figured I could send her something from her two boys, signed by her two boys, and delivered on behalf of her two boys. If it is not from me, then it should be ok I figured. Again, so far so good.

I am a regular with this one particular florist. I call them and request a specific “special” bouquet. I used to always get her yellow roses. So I ask them to build me a bouquet with a dozen yellow roses. But I wanted some color also, so I ask them to mix in some pink carnations and some white spray. They were actually able to do a computer images and sent it to me, and it did look nice.

In addition, I included a large box of chocolates and a bottle of merlot.  I was reminded that since I had been such a good customer that I had a gift certificate that I could use, so I also included a “Spa Day” basket. You know, bath gels, sexy lotions and the rest of that girly crap. Yes, for some odd reason I still want to impress this lady. But mostly, I wanted to make sure she had a good Mother’s Day.

I have to back up for a moment now. This one particular lady moved away about a year ago. When she did I asked her for her new address. She made a big deal about giving it out, but she did. Well she sort of did. She gave me a false address. When she moved a year ago, I was very interested in her. So I sent her a lot of gifts. Yet on many occasions I had serious problems arranging the delivery. I would ask her to verify her address as what I had, and she did three times. So I would bitch at UPS or Fed Ex about their inability to do their job, and all the money I was pissing away. Oh, I mailed stuff also, and the USPS was having the same challenges.

It wasn’t until she desperately needed me to send her something that she FINALLY confirmed a different address. She claimed that she simply made a mistake originally, but she did confirm her mistake three more times. Ok, so I am NOT an anal person but I do keep detailed records. Her address error had cost me exactly $593.87 over the past year, not to mention the anger and frustration I showed to UPS and Fed Ex.

But that was in the past, right?

I never heard from her even though I had confirmation that the gifts were delivered. I absolutely hated to do anything to verify as I wanted it to be from her two young boys. But UPS was confirming the correct delivery and I wasn’t hearing a word from her. So I finally asked her. And she did not reply. Due to all the problems I had in the past, yet believing I had the correct address, I was forced to ask one more time. I hate repeating myself.

Guess what? She had moved. Some asshole was now sitting in a tub using all the spa stuff I had sent to the old address, drinking a bottle of merlot, eating chocolates, and probably giving the bouquet I specifically designed for my friend to his girlfriend.

FUCK ME!

No, I did not ask for her new address. She did send it but I didn’t keep it.

Also, while all of this was going on I was having a pool party. Low and behold, the chick that snuck into bed with me a few weeks ago after one of my parties showed up. I didn’t invite her, but someone I did invite told her about it and how I have this “open invitation” policy. So she shows up.

I am not a jerk anymore, so please don’t take this as a slam. But the night this chick snuck up to my room and crawled into my bed it was dark, she was naked, and I was drunk. Yet seeing her in the bright daylight of a pool party . . . well . . . she looked different. Don’t make me say anymore?

So I got to spend the day avoiding her. That is definitely not me. So while I am supposed to be the “host” of this party, I am constantly bitching at UPS, texting the “flower girl”, verifying with the florist, and dodging this one chick all at the same time. Argh!

So, what did we learn this weekend?

·          If a girl gives you a bad address, she ain’t fucking interested so forget her.

·          If you send flowers and gifts to a lady, and UPS says a man signed for them, GIVE UP!

·          Before you have sex, especially after drinking, turn on the damn lights.

Happy Monday!

My Journal 133

It’s Mother’s Day Weekend, so don’t forget to call mom. I will definitely be chatting it up with mine.

A few years ago a buddy of mine informed me that my old High School was remodeled and the put in a Display Case that ran the entire length of the building. He told me that in this case were awards and photos going back to the beginning of the school in 1957. He told me it was majorly impressive.

Of course I asked if there were any pictures of me in the case. He replied that there were a few, but none of me pertaining to my favorite sport, football. At the time I found this odd and yet humorous. My all time favorite sport was football. I spent most of my time working on a career with football. My second most consuming sport was track and field. I also did some boxing, baseball and softball.

In the case at my old school are pictures of me from 1977. I have not viewed these pictures but I am told that there are four pictures. A picture of the mile relay team from 1977, a picture of the sprint relay team form 1977, a picture of me running the quarter mile in the State Championship Track meet and a picture of me being awarded Most Congenial (Yup, I missed out on most athletic. What can I say other than they give out the awards during basketball season and our team went to the State tournament that year).

Now I have a lot of “athletic moments” stored in my head. Most of them are football memories. But when I was asked which moments gave me the biggest rush, well it had to be some track memories. I think that this is because a football memory usually is a play in a game. But the game led to the play and the game lasts for hours. Yet in track this moment could be anywhere from a mere 10 seconds to a maximum of about 50 seconds.

So here is my favorite “rush” memory.

In 1977, the relay teams I was on qualified for the State Meet. In Texas, you go to “invitational’s” each week for about two months. Then you go to the District track meet. The winners move on to the city track meet. The next step is two regional track meets. Then the best of the best go to run one race in the state track meet, and there it is winner takes all. You can only participate in three events in any one track meet. So I was in the Sprint relay, the mile relay, and I ran the Quarter Mile solo. I would occasionally run the hundred yard dash or the 220 year dash instead of the Quarter Mile. But we had guys that had qualified for those events already, so I went with the Quarter Mile.

The very first event that morning was the running of the Sprint Relay. If you can imagine a High School or College football stadium then you have seen a track that runs around the field. The Sprint Relay consists of four guys, each running one leg of a race, and the entire race is only one lap around the track. The entire race takes about 40 seconds. Each leg takes about 10 seconds.

This was my realization and my rush. I had run track for six years at this point. I was the second leg of the Sprint Relay team, lining up next to the fastest young men in the great state of Texas. It was amazing to be on the track with them, but I was a very cocky guy. So I kept telling them how lucky they were to be on the track with me.

My school was way out in the country. All the guys I ran with back then were your typical “good ol’ country boys”. We weren’t rich or flashy. We were just guys that hated to lose at anything. And we had been buddies for years. We knew everything about each other. We had even made this one race a science. We knew who ran the curves best and who ran the straights best. We knew who was a step faster on that particular day and who might be a step slower.

So we had several different “marks” that we would use. You see, each guy has to run a leg; and there are guidelines on where the baton can be passed between two runners. But if you were a bit faster on a given day then we would arrange for you to get the baton at the beginning of the zone. Therefore you would run about 10 yards more that the guy handing off to you.

Also, and don’t take this as racial, we were the ONLY white guys in the race. So based on stereotypes, everyone figured the “country boy all white” team wouldn’t have a chance. And we were a poor school too. Our uniforms weren’t flashy. We had white cotton tank tops with an “M” on them. We had Maroon cotton shorts and just plain white spikes. We definitely looked “country” compared to all the BIG CITY teams that we were competing against with their flashy digs.

Seconds before the start of the race, I take a moment to look around. We are in Austin, where the Texas Longhorns play. There are about 40,000 people already watching. And I realize that I have run and run for six years just to have this chance to run my ass off for a mere 10 seconds. Just 10 freakin’ seconds to display my worth to the state after years of training. And 10 seconds does not give you any room for error. One bad step, a blink of an error with the exchange, or something as minute as a pimple on our ass could cost you a second. And in this race a second is the difference between the winner and last place.

For a moment it was overwhelming. But I had been in the spotlight many times before. So I took a breath, looked down the track and my buddy waiting for me, and lined up at my mark. I even told my competition not to worry about keeping up. (I told you I am cocky) The gun fired starting the race. Everything I had worked for was culminating right now. My adrenalin was rising as was my heart rate. But my mind was focused on only one thing . . . RUN!

Everything was perfect. I ran 108 yards in 10.87 seconds. Me and my buddies finished in FIRST place, leaning to the win by 0.03 seconds. The last place relay team was 1.89 seconds behind us. I spent 10.37 seconds becoming the fastest relay team in the state of Texas. That was a freakin’ rush of a life time.

It was me running. Yes we were a team, but for 10.87 seconds I held the chances of my buddies in my hand. No one else was out there running for those guys but me. No one was watching them for 10.87 seconds, EVERYONE was watching me.

FYI, our winning time was the third fastest time in the nation among High School teams. Yup, we were some “bad ass country boys”!

I wish somehow I could bottle up that emotional rush and sell it.

In my life I have had thousands of rushes. I love to compete, and someone I dearly care about once told me, “The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I can’t do it”. And she is right; I can’t back down from a challenge. But f all the rushes I ever experienced, by far that was the greatest.

I hope that you enjoyed hearing about it.

Have a GREAT weekend  . . . . and think about me once.

My Journal 132

I am doing better now. Actually someone said that they miss me. Sure, it was probably just an off-handed comment and meant nothing. But I can pretend, right?

“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”

I guess this describes one of my weaknesses. I find people that are challenged and I seem to find myself wanting to be THE ONE that can make things different. I want to be the one that shows them the light I guess. I’m the one that wants to break down the wall and say “Hello”.

What I am finding is that there are two types of people that put up walls. Those that don’t want anyone to break it down because they like the way they are; and those that put up the wall to hide something. It could be their fears, or it could be something much worse. In either case, they too don’t want anyone breeching their wall. So why do I try?

Maybe it is because of whom I was or who I became, I have this need to be the one that won’t give up when everyone else has given up. I mentioned recently that I was stressing over actually giving up on someone for the first time in my life. Two of my friends fought me tooth and nail not to become a quitter, especially on something as important as a person.

I chose not to give up thanks to their help. I did change my approach with this person considerably though. But in all honesty, I am glad I didn’t give up on them. I have no idea what is going on in their life. I assume everything is wine and roses for them today. But since I don’t know it could be more like spoiled milk and poison ivy. I just couldn’t give up on someone that is dealing with that. I guess time will tell, right?

“True friendship isn't about being there when it's convenient; it's about being there when it's not.”

Something that sort of bothers me is “convenient friends”. These are those people who fake a friendship most of the time, simply pretending to be caring and giving lots of lip service; yet never really wanting to be a friend when it’s not convenient. Then when they need something they instantly become your best friend and can’t understand why you would even consider hesitating on doing what they need.

I mentioned before that when I consider someone a friend, and they need something then I will move heaven and earth to get it for them without delay. I will put aside any other personal tasks or challenges that I have and focus completely on their request. But as I think about it, maybe that is just me. Maybe I do expect too much and strive too hard for a friend.

So if I am wrong then it shouldn’t bother me that when I need something and I ask a friend that they refuse to acknowledge my request. Maybe to the rest of the world friends needs aren’t more important than my current needs and wants. I am debating this among all my personalities and I’ll let you know how it turns out.

“There are three types of friends: those like food, without which you can't live; those like medicine, which you need occasionally; and those like an illness, which you never want.”

I found this quote interesting also. I find it odd that the writer came up with three types of friends. I too put all people in three distinct categories. My categories are titled differently; but I think that the explanations are similar.

My category three is call the “Nobody’s”.

These are people that don’t matter to me. It includes all the people I’ve never met and don’t know exist as well as all the people I’ve met and don’t give a rat’s ass about their well being. Either they don’t matter at all or they once mattered a little, but somehow seriously pissed me off to the point that I never think about them again.

I don’t worry about these people, check up on these people, miss these people or care if they ever contact me. They are nobody’s. Now I doubt that any one of them would ever ask me for a favor, but if they did I would ignore it completely. If they still persisted then I would have no problem telling them to kiss my ass. Hey, just because we share the planet doesn’t mean I owe them something.

My category two is called “Associate’s”.

These are the people that would probably be in category three, but I have to coexist with them. These would include co-workers, neighbors, business associates, family friends, and friends of friends. I sort of care about their well being, but I don’t go out of my way to check up on them. And I wouldn’t lose sleep if I didn’t hear from them for an extended period of time.

I heard the perfect description of what I am trying to explain once. It is from the Movie “Hoosiers”.

“Mister, there are two kinds of crazy people in the world. There are those that run naked though a field and howl at the moon. Then there are those that do the same in your living room. The difference is you sort of have to deal with one of them!”

If an Associate needs a favor they would have to ask for it, as I wouldn’t volunteer anything. If they ask I would try to avoid it slightly, but I would be doing an analysis of what I may be able to gain in the future by helping them, and how convenient it would be to do this favor. So they would have a chance at getting a favor, but it would not be a guarantee.

My category one is called “Friends”.

I hasten to say this, but I imagine I have only about a dozen people in this category. (What can I say, I have trouble keeping friends) I care deeply about each of these people. I worry about them constantly, even when they are doing well. I check in with them several times a week and I am worried when I don’t hear back, or if they don’t check up on me.

If I even think that they need a favor then I just do it. I don’t ask and I don’t have to wait for them to ask. I do the favor for free, no strings attached. Of course you know me, so I will make requests in jest. But in all honesty I do for them out of love and caring, nothing else.

But then we get back to how to handle it when I need something and they ignore me. Does that mean I am in their category two . . . or even three? I do tend to get frustrated, even though it is probably my fault. I may have mis-placed them. Maybe they should be a category two or something.

Very few make it to category one. Once there, it almost takes an act of god to be demoted. But it has happened. A few have been demoted to category two, but no one that has ever been in category one has fallen to category three. My point here is that this is what I was about to do last week. I was going to demote someone from category one to category three.

But I didn’t. Right now they are like a category 1.5. You know, sort of on the fence while I watch and wait. If they show me that they care then they will be category one for life. If I only get lip service then it’s category two.

Ok, I know you are probably sick of all my damn quotes, but I will leave you with one final quote. And this one truly is a pillar of my soul. 

“Anyone can give up; it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength.”

Finally, one passing comment that you can take for what’s it is worth.

I was handed a medical magazine which was explaining that for women, performing oral sex and swallowing is excellent for your complexion and has numerous health benefits. Hey! I didn’t write the article; I’m just sharing information with my friends as a favor.

Luv ya’ll!

My Journal 131

I am hesitant to post today’s journal. Today’s journal may appear to some to be somewhat “whiney”. Some may think that I am acting like a spoiled brat who lost his toy. And maybe I am, when you get right down to it.

But . . . .

I will say this to those who may not know me well enough, yet. Walk in my shoes. See the things that I have seen. Feel the things that I have felt. Hear the things that I have heard. Taste the things that I have tasted. Smell the things that I have smelled. Survive the life that I survived. THEN you can sit in judgment of me.

And perhaps this particular journal.

Oh well?

I am so thrilled with the events of Sunday. The American military, the GREATEST WEAPON in the history of the world, tracked down the man responsible for the deaths of over three thousand American civilians. Kudos to everyone that diligently searched computers, papers, people and maps trying to locate this man. Kudos to those who risked their lives collecting or sharing information. And kudos to the shooter. The Navy Seal that put two taps in the man’s head.

This week America and American’s celebrated this historic event. People wore flags and displayed the American theme. Stores put up signs. TV and radio celebrated and threw parties. Everyone wants to meet the men who pulled off this miracle. People’s eyes water at the sound of patriotic songs. Without a doubt it is an American celebration.

One man fired two shots. One man saved the world from tyranny. One man ended the heartache and possibly saved lives. One anonymous man did something that no one else could do. I personally want to shake his hand and say, “THANK YOU!”

But I knew someone once who was just like that one man. He was alone. He was armed. He was deadly. And he put one round in a few people himself around the world. He didn’t have five other guys supporting him though. He didn’t have air support. He actually had no support. What he did, he had to do alone. What he did was just as important. He believed he saved thousands of lives as well, or at least that is what he was told to believe.

But there was never a ticker tape parade. There were never any celebrations. There was never any Kudos. And NO ONE ever walked up to him, shook his hand, and said “Thank you”.

He wasn’t allowed to wear the flag of his great country on his sleeve. He wasn’t allowed to say he was an American. And if he failed, no one cared and no one would come for him.

Today, he is so happy for the country he loves. But at the same time he remembers what he went through for his country; and how no one knows or cares. As happy as he is for his country today, he is equally as sad.

Today he is a whiney brat.

But he would do it all again. I guarantee that!

God Bless America!

My Journal 130

Yes, I have been asked if I know any “insight” into the death of Bin Laden.

No, I know nothing more than the reports we all see on TV and hear on the radio.

Sorry folks, I haven’t been around that in 30 years. I’m just a normal guy now. And I have never been to Pakistan. So celebrate our country and our military . . . but do so with your head on a swivel and your eyes wide open. I do know how his followers think and they are dangerous. If you’re too scared, you can come sleep with me?!? I promise to be a GENTLEMAN.

(Hehehehehe)

Ok, let’s move on.

So as I mentioned before, I was threatened recently. I have finally gotten past the ludicrous part of deciding to threaten me out of everyone else in the world; and now I should discuss this a bit.

Someone believed that I was “sniffing” around his fiancée. I can honestly say I wasn’t, even though the individual never would confirm his name, because I am not seeing anyone that is engaged, dating, or living with someone else. I do have morals.

Now if a lady I am seeing is truly engaged or otherwise “taken” then I don’t know about it. And furthermore, they would have had to lie to me because that is a question I always ask FIRST. But when you get past the fact that this instance is like the bunny threatening the wolf, why should I even be in the discussion?

If you are engaged (or whatever) and your mate is seeing someone else; isn’t that a problem for you two to resolve among yourself? If you mate denies it and you still believe it is true then YOU have a problem. Either work it out, forget it, or leave your mate. Seriously.

But there is no reason to involve anyone else. There is no legal reason for a single person to date a person that is already dating or engaged to someone else. So if this were true then I would have had no reason NOT to date someone. Again, I am different and do have morals so I don’t. But I am not legally obligated to refuse the advances of a taken woman.

And if someone has lied to me, and it turns out I am dating a “taken” woman, then I will walk away the moment I find out the truth. If someone will lie to me about that then they will lie about everything. And I don’t need that drama in my life.

So to the guy who called . . .

Talk to your fiancée and work this out. Maybe you will have a great life together. And one piece of advice, check out whom you are threatening before you decide to be bold. You actually got the break of a lifetime when I didn’t come after you.

My Journal 129

I may have mentioned before that my all time favorite movie is the original Rocky. You may not be a Stallone fan or even a sports / boxing fan. But if you ever watched the movie I bet you cheered at the ending as I do. How can you not love the ending?

But there is a reason that I love that movie that you may not know. But now you will.

I had my leg destroyed while I was in High School. I experienced two spiral fractures, two compound fractures, torn ligaments in my ankle and ripped tendons in my knee. All this happened on one particular play. I also had my ribs broken, but that is another story.

I was in casts and braces for ever it seemed. And I had sort of lost my will to play sports. I was drinking a lot and doing odd drugs. Then on a Saturday towards the end of summer I skipped my first workout, I just didn’t feel like going anymore. That was a first for me, but I was seriously ready to quit. I kept being told I would never run again, that I couldn’t compete if I did, and that any chance for a scholarship was gone.

So I sat my butt down on a couch and did nothing.

I mentioned that I had a “spirit girl” that requested me every year. She was a great gal, and we became really good friends. She wasn’t ugly at all. She was a tall brunette with a very nice figure. She was on the dance team so her legs would make you drool. And she had the best personality. But the most important thing was she got me. She completely understood who I was and what made me tick.

We would go out on occasion as well, but usually just as friends. We did miniature golf, movies, dancing and things like that. And yes, a few times we did get naked. But it was like there were times where we both needed to be laid and didn’t feel like working for it. So I would call her or she would call me, and we had this code word which meant, “I need some”.

So yes, we were close.

Apparently the coach was extremely worried that I didn’t show up, since I never missed my workouts. He had called but I wasn’t answering the phone. So he called my spirit girl. She knew me, so she already knew the conflict I was experiencing. But she had another idea.

She came to my house, dressed to kill if you know what I mean. She walked in (yes, my folks gave her a key) and she told me to get up that we were going out. I didn’t go out much during this time. I had this ugly brace that ran from below my knee to a really goofy pair of shoes. I also had a knee brace above this contraption. It looked like crap and I squeaked when I walked. So I refused to go.

She wouldn’t have that. She explained that she would drive, we would have fun, and no one would see me. She was very insistent and pushy. So I finally agreed just to shut her up. I climbed in her car and off we went. On the trip, she told me that she felt I had forgotten why I play sports, the perks I get, and the passion I have for the game. She said she was going to remind me.

We went to a drive in movie (am I showing my age?). It was a double feature, Rocky and Rocky II. I hadn’t seen either before as I wasn’t much of a movie person back then. So we park and she starts talking about all the fun perks I get being an athlete. As she is speaking she is undoing my jeans. Then she goes down on me, for about a minute. Then she stops, sits up and tells me that girls don’t just do this for bums. If I want this sensation again I had better keep trying to play.

She didn’t finish, and yes I did realize that I would miss things like that.

Then the movie began. I can’t tell you the effect that movie had on me. It revitalized my passion. It helped me to understand that setbacks in life happen. When they do you can make them an excuse, and obstacle or a learning tool. It was my choice.

That night it became the greatest movie I had ever seen. I showed up at practice Monday. I played the season wearing my braces on my leg. And I made All District. I went on and did in fact get my scholarship, even though I lost it due to this injury. But I didn’t quit, I achieved my goal.

And I owe it to my “Spirit Girl” and the movie Rocky.

Life is strange.