Me

We got to talking about this last night. The importance of being ourselves. Celebrating our uniqueness' and accepting the comprising realities of who we are. One of the few absolutes is the fact that nobody is perfect. Everyone is flawed. We have strong suites and weakness'. We own Achilles heels and find chinks in armour. Soft spots and rough edges. We error. Often and flagrantly. Our jails operate at maximum capacity, a fact that makes the Ramada folks cringe. Still, we move foreword, hopping to learn a little something this go-round. We look at options. Try harder, seek advice, relax.

The comparisons are easy. I would rather be me than most of the knuckleheads on the home page of this mornings on-line newspaper. I would rather be me than the stars on the front page of that ridiculous tabloid at checkout. I would rather me be than Cobain, Hendrix, Garcia, Morrison, Houston or Prefontaine. James Dean even. There is no question that I would rather deal with my trivial personal issues than those of Mr. Obama. I don't have to worry about protecting my property, carrying maximum coverage, managing an offshore account or amortizing assets over ten years. I am not stressed because the stock market reacted to volatilities in the Gulf. My happiness is not dependent on the weather. My Levi's cost $4 at Goodwill. I would be a Zen monk, merrily weeding a row of onions with a wood rake if I didn't like training and racing so much. I believe that meat is murder. I am a tree hugger. Mean people suck. If you are a neo-con and see me as part of the problem, relax, I will not harm you.

Like I said I am flawed. I make more mistakes by noon than most people make in a week. By all statistical accounts, I live in poverty. The irony of this is hilarious. We laughed to tears last night as we examined my money to happiness ratio. It is totally off the carts. I am a glutton for happiness. Greedy for the grin. I want them all, all the time. I want them now. Deep, honest and robust.

All this is not to say that I don't recognize the importance of a stack of dimes. I do. Good food is expensive. I LOVE to travel and gas prices remain a tribute to our united foolishness. My last race entry-fee was $550. I would like a new training bike, to save wear and tear on Phoenix Red, my recycled, rebuilt, reclaimed racing bike. I could pray all day long and the answer would still be, "If you earn it it will show." It's on me. Nobody is going to hand it to me on a silver platter. If I am smart enough, connected enough, energetic enough and good enough, an opportunity will knock.

Today I plan on practicing my smartness and connectedness. Using this unique and odd combination of energies and talents to push the agenda. Much like I did yesterday. And the day before that. I will practice being me. Cause I can't be anybody else. I suppose I could practice playing my guitar like Jimi or Jerry, running like Pre or acting like Mr. Dean, but that misses the bull's eye. Only they could be them. And only YOU can be YOU.

And only I can be me. Which is probably a good thing.