Wednesday, June 20, 2012


Louise and I used to have this circular conversation when times were good.

She would turn somber and shake her head, and when I asked what was wrong she would spill: "I'm just waiting for something bad to happen."

One of the Amazons said something similar the other day. It seems good times beget bad times in the minds of many. Call me stupid ("stupid!"), call me Pollyanna ("hey, you fugging Pollyanna!"), but I've got to ask: why isn't it the other way around?

Why aren't bad times the precursor to joy?

My reason for asking isn't entirely academic — I'm just not that into causality dilemmas. I'm curious because I happen to be skidding through a patch of emotional black ice and a clear stretch of road would be nice.

I've already wondered if the great joy I experienced last year was the forerunner to the current shitstorm. As 2011 came to a close I jotted two sentences:
This has been the best and worse year of a 50-year-old's life. Is there a need to seek greater extremes?
Funny, but I didn't know how extreme life was about to get.

But that's why I'm turning my face to the sunshine. The way I figure, I've experienced enough grief to last the rest of this life and part of the next.

This current journey through the Land of Oz is about to come to a climax. I believe I have duly proven my worthiness during this monomyth, and the guardian of the ultimate boon shouldn't be so damned stubborn to refuse me the opportunity to at least hold it for a while and appreciate its transcendent beauty.

The guardian should know I've gone through hell, tackled myriad challenges, transformed myself into a worthy man. I've earned the chance to experience the joy of the ultimate prize.

I'm not crying "uncle" and asking to be let up from the misery. Fuck that noise. I'm pushing misery off my back, kicking it in the teeth and walking, head bloodied but held high, to the keeper of the prize, and this is what I'm going to say:

There is no time to lose, no time to waste. Fair's fair. I crawled through broken glass to get here. Give me what I've fought for. I deserve it.

As for which came first: screw the chicken and the egg. Bacon came first.

1 comment:

Melinda said...

As Emeril would say, "Pork fat rules!" Thank God for bacon. And, I'm beginning to change my waiting-for-the-bad mentality, thanks to you. Life should be good. Life is good.