"Just 'cause you pour syrup on something doesn't make it pancakes!"
Amen, Mr. Jackson. You are for real.
Sweet moments in life come and go, and of late, they seem to zip past with a speed associated with spooky action at a distance. Nothing seems to linger. Or maybe it's just my inability to thoroughly savor those fleeting moments. I taste them, I love them, I long for more of them.
I've been a lucky man. As my beloved ex-wife once told me, "You always land on your feet." She is right, of course; she has almost always been correct about such things. Hearing her voice inside my head today, I realize I've wasted so many minutes of my life waiting for the bad times to swamp my good times. I have been guilty of the very mindset I have never understood.
Because I am lucky. I have friends who've stuck with me when I was an absolute asshole. I've been able to work in an industry that provides something new every day. I remain friends, of a sort, with the great loves of my life.
These are things that many men can't claim. So when I wallow in self-pity, when I decry the unfair turns of life, I need to slap myself upside the noggin and appreciate what I've been able to do.
I survived a stroke, for God's sake. I thought about this a lot today, after learning that a delightful friend has suffered a heart attack and is in the hospital. It's back to CoxSouth tonight — the first time I've been back inside that hospital since the CVA. Instead of being wheeled out, I'm walking in. Not exactly SLJ territory, but badass nonetheless. And knowing my friend (who is also a badass), there is no doubt he will survive, and thrive, and continue to be one of the Four Horsemen dressed as seasons in my dreams.
I'll also take the advice of Samuel L. Jackson, who told an audience:
If you have an opportunity to use your voice you should use it.
This is my voice. I give thanks for what I have.