Dr. Hoops Does
021107
2128 Hours
This is how blogs are written!
Hours away from turning 31, I figure everyone who has passed this milestone has had to reflect on their life they have lived to that point. So without further ‘ado:
1976 seems so long ago. Synkyrd was blasted in the background everywhere you went… actually it was Fleetwood Mac in “The Proj.” A year later, Elvis went back to his home planet, the “Son of Sam” terrorized NYC and I was working on getting out of my diaper. From then on, I was a fat kid (Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe I was a little fat kid… I swear to God was!) who moved to RL at four, learned the ways of the Sav at five, played Little League at eight and embarrassed my Uncle Joe who happened to be my coach (Though he awarded me the team MVP in my rookie year of 1984 which I took as being a perfect attendance award and was subsequently disappointed for the remainder of my baseball career because I never missed a day of practice… you would think that I would’ve been a decent player… afraid not,) rocked the “Game Room” at thirteen, struggled through adolescence unscathed, managed to graduate high school (hence the name “94 Warriors”), dealt blackjack for 5 years, became a hardcore drunk, became a father at 19, husband at 24, ass kicker, idiot, extreme harder core drunk, survivor/death dodger, stupid extreme hardcore drunk, college student at twenty-six, panic attack survivor at twenty-eight, ass kickee, recovering alcoholic at twenty-nine, and college grad, new and improved husband/father and businessman at thirty. Maybe 31 isn’t so old after all. Who am I kidding?
Nowadays it’s easy to reflect on what I’ve seen and done. I’ve admitted my past mistakes and moved on, though it hasn’t been easy. My life now consists of me sitting at home and relaxing, occasionally entertaining the wife and kids with my random bursts of lameness and idiocy like doing the “Twist” like nobody’s business out of nowhere. Apparently, I have the baddest-ass “Twist” known to mankind. Chubby Checker owes me for perfecting it. Stay down Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace! Stay down!
Having been able to kick the alcohol habit (591 days without a sip so far) is ONE of my achievements. It does not define me. Though lately I’ve been considered a “Church Person” by someone who apparently didn’t know my story from a few years ago, I don’t push what I’ve been able to do on anyone. It’s hard to stay sober in Red Lake. Like Chuck Barkley said years ago, “I am not a role model.” I’m not. What I do is for my kids, not you and yours. I’m selfish that way.
Aging does crazy things to a man.
2128 Hours
This is how blogs are written!
Hours away from turning 31, I figure everyone who has passed this milestone has had to reflect on their life they have lived to that point. So without further ‘ado:
1976 seems so long ago. Synkyrd was blasted in the background everywhere you went… actually it was Fleetwood Mac in “The Proj.” A year later, Elvis went back to his home planet, the “Son of Sam” terrorized NYC and I was working on getting out of my diaper. From then on, I was a fat kid (Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe I was a little fat kid… I swear to God was!) who moved to RL at four, learned the ways of the Sav at five, played Little League at eight and embarrassed my Uncle Joe who happened to be my coach (Though he awarded me the team MVP in my rookie year of 1984 which I took as being a perfect attendance award and was subsequently disappointed for the remainder of my baseball career because I never missed a day of practice… you would think that I would’ve been a decent player… afraid not,) rocked the “Game Room” at thirteen, struggled through adolescence unscathed, managed to graduate high school (hence the name “94 Warriors”), dealt blackjack for 5 years, became a hardcore drunk, became a father at 19, husband at 24, ass kicker, idiot, extreme harder core drunk, survivor/death dodger, stupid extreme hardcore drunk, college student at twenty-six, panic attack survivor at twenty-eight, ass kickee, recovering alcoholic at twenty-nine, and college grad, new and improved husband/father and businessman at thirty. Maybe 31 isn’t so old after all. Who am I kidding?
Nowadays it’s easy to reflect on what I’ve seen and done. I’ve admitted my past mistakes and moved on, though it hasn’t been easy. My life now consists of me sitting at home and relaxing, occasionally entertaining the wife and kids with my random bursts of lameness and idiocy like doing the “Twist” like nobody’s business out of nowhere. Apparently, I have the baddest-ass “Twist” known to mankind. Chubby Checker owes me for perfecting it. Stay down Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace! Stay down!
Having been able to kick the alcohol habit (591 days without a sip so far) is ONE of my achievements. It does not define me. Though lately I’ve been considered a “Church Person” by someone who apparently didn’t know my story from a few years ago, I don’t push what I’ve been able to do on anyone. It’s hard to stay sober in Red Lake. Like Chuck Barkley said years ago, “I am not a role model.” I’m not. What I do is for my kids, not you and yours. I’m selfish that way.
Aging does crazy things to a man.
posted by Jonny R. at 3:23 PM
1 Comments:
The twist is the greatest I've seen you do yet, second is the moon walk, third is the robot, I could go on and on about the thing's that crack me up every single DAY!
Post a Comment
<< Home