No Waiting

I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me want to laugh out loud. And I don't want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing out loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down, and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who appreciates the gift.

~Shauna Niequist Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life

Bar Hopping

1965 was my last year of Little League. I was 12 years old. During one batting practice I was in center field with a teammate when I heard a CRACK of the bat and saw the ball rising in a prodigious arc over head. I immediately turned and ran towards the point where I thought the ball would come down. (think Willie Mays in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series against Cleveland) Going full tilt with my head turned up to eye the descending ball, I ran under a chin up bar (the three level metal construct of high, medium, and lower bars) and knocked myself out. When I came to my entire team was in a circle around me. It was an interesting phenomenon, looking up at a patch of blue sky with worried faces peering down at me, and having no idea of what had taken place. I don't remember pain so much as being disengaged from reality. The 'here and now' didn't carry any significance. My brain was like a tire on an icy road...I couldn't gain any traction.

Obviously many things had taken place while I was unconscious. 13 kids and 3 coaches had time to run some 250 feet out to where I was. Someone (?) was dispatched to my house to get my mom. By far the most interesting thing that happened, though, was when I was walked (supported on either side) to the parking lot to await my moms arrival. One of the coaches (not sure which one) said; "you're just like your dad...you can't pass up a bar." 

To be sure, the comedic genius of the line was lost on me at the time. But distance and memory have enshrined the one-liner as a beautiful insight into human nature. We have the capacity to laugh when danger has passed, or even in some cases, while we are in the midst of it. Further, it isn't necessary for danger to be the essential ingredient. Any of our hopes, dreams, or desires, can be put into proper perspective with a dose of humor.

So it is with my high expectations for January. I have to laugh. I have been here before, nearly two years to the date. (see; Flatline 2-18-13) I wish continued exposure to rejection made it any easier. It doesn't. But there must be a joke in here somewhere. To that end, perhaps a contest? Finish the following premise: A Priest, a Rabbi, and Pat walk into a bar...

(The winner will receive a free copy of the e-book, "The Last Enchanted Forest.")