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I’m working on a fairly large project for a fairly large client at work. It’s been very stressful, and yesterday I considered taking today off work. My lead greets me this morning by informing me that particular client is in our building today.
Never mind my mumbling; it’s just the serenity prayer.
I’ve never considered myself extraordinary. I’ve never considered myself inspirational. To be honest, I never really thought of myself as reliable, persistent, and never really thought I could see difficult things through.
In October, I got an email at work asking for feedback on the personal trainer they employed in our gym. In 7 months, I had no idea he existed. I asked for some details and was blown away to discover that in addition to our gym being free, working with the personal trainer was as well. You were able to meet with him twice a week for 30 minutes. I’d recently turned 30 and was still in a funk about that, not to mention one of my closest friends went from a regular, slim guy to JACKED what seemed like overnight. He seemed like he felt better, was more confident, just loving life.
If you would have told me even 8 years ago that I hadn’t even met my best friend yet, I would have called you crazy, but you would’ve been right. I met a small-town girl with a southern twang in her voice who turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. 5 years ago today I married my best friend, and every day I spend with her is just that much better. I love you with all of my heart, Mrs. Miller.
My four year old loves to tell jokes. Unfortunately, she’s limited to what she hears from the handful of kids shows and things she ocassionally hears from friends and family. Her favorite at the moment is, “How do ducks learn to fly?” (They just wing it.) She tries to vary the joke, but is no comedienne yet. “How do ducks learn to poop?” (They just poop it.)
I decided to give her a new one, “Why did the chicken cross the road?” (She’s too young for most of the cultural punchlines, so we stuck with “to get to the other side.”)
Without missing a beat, she tried to vary this classic by asking, “Why did the monkey cross the road?” I thought for a minute before deciding to guess, “Because there were bananas on the other side?”
“Nope! He was STAPLED TO THE CHICKEN!”
I always felt I’d never use CPR in my life, but God help me if I didn’t think I was going to have to test my skills on my wife in that moment. If you can offer jokes my four year old will appreciate, please feel free to share. She doesn’t get most of my material.
I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing 10 years ago today. I remember the outburst of emotion around and within me. And I remember the way we picked ourselves up, tears and all, carried on, and vowed that this wouldn’t be a deathblow to America, that we would be a better and stronger nation for it. And I’ll never forget. But now when my four year old asks why today is special, I feel the fear again, I feel the anger again. I hate that she needs to know. I hate that she’ll learn about this in school, I hate that there was nothing we could do to prevent the tragedy 10 years ago. I hate that we can’t bring back the lives that were lost. I hate that I’ll never understand why someone would do what those few did to decimate our country. But I find peace knowing that we will continue to move forward and carry this torch of rememberance for those we lost. I find peace knowing that no matter how dark the memories are, we found the strength to dust ourselves off and carry on. And I find peace knowing we did not just let this happen. So many were so satisfied to go to another land and lay down their lives for something they couldn’t undo. So today I remember the fallen from the WTC and the horrible war that still follows. I thank God every day that when we were wounded, what did not kill us did indeed make us stronger. Never forget.
Twas the night before the playoffs, when all through the league
Not a team was at rest, from the top to bottom seed.
The waiver wire was scoured by the first and the last,
In hope that other owners had seen a gem but passed.
The sleepers were nestled all starting or benched,
Their owners all hoping their playoff spot had been clinched.
My squad with its handcuffs and outright studs,
Had made no bench room to hang onto duds.
When out on the wire there was a sudden flash of light,
An owner had errantly released Roddy White!
My fingers clicked quickly and Randy Moss was released,
I swore for a moment my heart’s beating had ceased!
“With Roddy my corp of receivers can’t be beat!
My opponents will surely taste bitter defeat!”
My lineup was set and a smile crossed my face;
I knew a certain trophy would reside at MY place.
Two weeks flew by with my team in the lead,
With a group this stacked, even rankings received no heed.
The championship was mine, only one game remained,
It was all but over, no Sunday scores had been changed.
I had a slim lead but Monday Night was all mine,
As the Atlanta Falcons had a 13 and a half point line.
They faced Tennessee at 8:30 on ESPN,
(That’s right, I said it- I’M A COMPANY FAN)
Cortland Finnegan, the punk, was blanketing Hot Rod,
Though I didn’t think he could be stopped, save by the hand God.
I grimaced when Roddy left the game in the first half,
And groaned when my opponent had the last laugh.
Roddy White had 3 catches, yardage: 29-
And my opponent had claimed what once was mine;
Randy Moss, Fantasy Zombie- 8 for a buck-oh-five.
The final: my team- 98. His- 109.