Carmels

There are few things in life sweeter than a well deserved caramel. I think we can all agree on that, men and women alike. Eating caramels is orgasmic. So, taking the scenic tour to the end of this vignette, last Tuesday, Duane and I went to Pons' Studio to spin class. Francisco Pons is a great spin instructor, and we left after 90 minutes feeling tired, but not satisfied. So, usually after going to spin on Tuesday, we end up at this bar eating bar food and drinking three - 20 ounce glasses of some sport recovery drink that they have on tap there. Its a great place that has six different channels of ESPN. There is ESPN, ESPND, ESPN2, ESPN2D and ESPN8, 'the ocho'.

The problem is that the bar we like is run by a self proclaimed virgin with an under performing thyroid who camps at our table and discusses her personal life ad nauseum. She has no verbal filter; whatever is on her mind is immediately barfed forth by her magnificently efficient vocal cords. Apparently, her boyfriend can't close the deal.  When she told that story, I was interested, but now, after hearing it and a dozen others, I just don't care.  It makes my sports drink taste like old socks as soon as she drops by our table with a new story.  We gotta find a new hangout.

So last Tuesday we wander down the street looking for a new place. We almost went into Ray's BBQ. That could have been good. I mean, who doesn't like BBQ? They had an Olympia beer sign in the window. I am thinking that they stopped making Oly in 1979 and this place either stocked up or the bartender is too lazy to take down the Oly sign and put up the Buckhorn sign. Either way, it was really tempting, but then we saw a mexican place right across the street. We went in there.

The mexican place was redecorated during the Reagan administration. They had shag carpet. The walls were painted a pastel pink that had attracted enough dust to qualify for a farm subsidy.

Then, the topper was there was a plastic donkey pulling a plastic wagon with a plastic Corona bottle in the wagon on the wall next to the 48 inch HD flat screen. You could watch the game on the tv, then you glanced to the left just a bit and there was the donkey, pulling the wagon. The donkey was smiling, I kid you not. Perfect, my kind of place. This is way better than the fat virgin bartender at the other place.

So, we are drinking our sports drinks, eating the triathlon training recovery chips, which are free by the way, and the bartender is switching the tv back and forth between the SEC basketball tourney and a rerun of I Love Lucy where Lucy and Ethel are working in the chocolate factory and the chocolates keep coming faster and faster. That kills me. You need to watch Lucy and Ethel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NPzLBSBzPI

So everytime he switches the channel, the tv takes a second to switch and I keep looking at that smiling donkey pulling the wagon. Is this a great place or what? Anyway, we order dinner, the guy suggests the street tacos. For six bucks on the happy hour menu, you get three tacos. We ask how long happy hour runs, because it is getting close to 10pm and he says it runs all night.  Seriously?  I ask if they rent rooms in the back.  I am thinking of moving in. I mean really, happy hour runs all night?

So we get our tacos. They are good. They taste like caramels. Caramel tacos.

Yesterday I ran 4 miles.  That was good.  Today I swam.  I cramped.  Everywhere.  I had cramps in new places.

Does anybody else think Gillette razors are overpriced? Do I need a seven blade razor with a vibrating head?   

The Reaper

Everybody thinks they will live forever, or at least it seems that way. We ignore the fact that God didn't issue a warranty when we left the factory. We are all going to die. It's the one truth in this life and we all try to ignore it, just like we try to ignore the hillybilly neighbor who's kid attends the same school as our kids because, unlike his unwed parents, that lucky kid hit the genetic lottery by having an IQ high enough to be the first in his family to finish grammar school.

I went to a wake recently. There were maybe sixty or seventy people in attendance and even though 50% of the attendees were statistically unlikely to see more that three or four more good years, the one valuable lesson we could have learned was missed.  I know death is painful for the survivors. The family of the decedent was upset and needed to share something profound. I understand. Just by being together at the wake we shared something valuable, but we missed the hard lesson.  We were looking in the wrong direction. It's like the guy with the coin that disappears from his left hand and shows up in his right. We were looking at the wrong thing at the wrong time.

The wake was in a nice room with a good view of some grass and and some trees, the carpet didn't have any gum in it and that is about the best you can expect at a wake. There was a microphone passed around and people talked about the guy who died. They talked about his life, or more accurately they talked about some of the highlights of his life. I listened.  Nobody mentioned the bad stuff, then we had some hors d'oeuvres. That just seems to be what you do at these things. I don't know why.

Here is my idea; Keep the microphone thing, but change the topic. We could have spent the time talking about those who are still standing and what we can do with the rest of the day.  I am not being disrespectful, or at least I am not trying to be. I know it sounds unconventional or wrong or somehow seems to be not a very Christian thing to do, but before you dismiss it, just consider it. The guy who passed is gone. It's over for him. At this point, he doesn't care one way or the other.  It matters for the rest of us who are still here.  We are are all going to get on the same bus someday, with the prepaid fare and no refunds. So why not improve things before we are done? Why not do it better? Or try to? Why not take the chance and start our lives now, right from this point in time?   Live like there is no tomorrow? Save a kitten if that is what you want to do. Save a soul. Do whatever it is that makes you live a better life, given what time you have left.  The opportunity is now.  Choose to live with purpose.

I want to do this because it makes sense to me. I wasn't close with the guy who passed, so I don't know if he would have liked my idea or not, but I don't care. I like it. I am going to do it. I am going to try to live as Thoreau suggested.  Its a bold step for me.

And if I can quote that great philosopher/poet/author

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

Your chance of dying is the same no matter what you do. There are no death alternatives. The undeniable scythe of the Reaper gleans a daily harvest of human wheat with quarter given to none. Go forth deliberately.