I was running:
It was hot.
My foot was flat putting me in agony.
I wanted to go home.
Problem was, I was still 5 miles from my car. What's a guy to do? What is a guy to do?
Well, I didn't get even, I got mad! I got mad at all the people who have knowingly and sadistically wronged me since the 4th grade. I thought about Greg Miller wrecking my tree fort. I thought about my friend going out with my high school girlfriend (didn't matter if we'd broken up, rules are rules!) and I thought about an ex-boss not reimbursing my expenses when I left the company. I thought about a lot of stuff. I covered some figurative and literal miles.
Well, just getting angry doesn't do anybody any good, so I started plotting my course of action. They were all getting letters telling them how the cow eats cabbage. Oh, these were going to be some good letters. Heaven and Hell were involved. How could yous? And I ougttas were involved. There was going to be a demand to get right with me and to get right with God. I just knew apologies were on the way.
Then the Johnny Cash song, "Tear Stained Letter" came on my I-Pod. Oh, it was perfect.
Dude gets his heart squashed and he writes his ex this real zinger of a letter. He hopes he didn't go so far that she off herself. Of course, just like his ex, none of the John Theofolises or Greg Millers, or them other cats give a crap about my letter. They hosed me and moved on.
Speaking of moving on, when the song ended I was almost back to the car. So here you are a much more lame version of the song that woke me up:
"I can see you sittin' and readin' it,While you hang you head and cry.I just hope you're not so sad,You're gonna go down suicide."
Anyway, that's why I didn't write those "tear-stained" letters. I didn't want these folks, that were friends, employers, acquaintances, whatever, getting so distraught that the went on and got Harri-Karried away or anything. I mean they did help me get through a though patch in my run after all!
And I'm sure most of them are truly sorry, even if they never said it (yeah, it's not that they don't care.)
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9 comments:
sheesh...knocked down your tree fort, huh?
I'm glad you were only 5 miles away from the car. Had you been 10 miles away, poor ol' Greg Miller might have lost a kneecap.
Poor Greg Miller? Knocking down a kid's tree fort, I don't even know if there is penance enough for that!
Now, Andy, we're even on the whole girlfriend thing, as I recall. But Greg Miller? Fluck him.
I think it's more a PRIDE thing for me. "Look at me now, suckas!" is what I think when I'm feeling frustrated out there.
I think about the snooty women who are too good to train with me, the HS coach who didn't pick one of the best softball players in town, and the popular kids who didn't invite me to their parties.
They all see me now (admittedly on Facebook) and tell me how AWESOME/HOT/INSPIRING I am. That's right nerds...who's the Wanabe now???
(Wait, does that sounds anrgy?)
Dave, I was actually referring to Chip Levine and Val, do you have a confession? (wait, I don't wanna hear it!)
Star, like you said, the foot's on the other hand now isn't it? Yeah, I was telling my buddy Dean the other day, er, wait, he was telling me, oh, bad example!
You were telling Dean what?
You don't tell Dean, Dean tells you! That's what we call a peckering order (I should know I am one!)
-Dean Karnazes
Nah, I got no secrets from you, A-Man.
I stole both your girlfriends, you want to right me a letter? Or, I could get the chippies to write you a letter, it would be tear-stained all right, with tears of happiness!
He shoots, he scores!
-Dean Karnazes
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