Humble Bumbling
Have you ever been humbled? And I'm not talking about that awkward moment when, in the middle of an argument over when Down Under was released in the US, you realize that it was in fact released in the summer of '82 and not '81 as you had been vehemently claiming. And I'm certainly not talking about that moment when you're standing at the urinal and happen to accidently let your eyes wander and immediately determine that the guy next must be a freak of nature for having such an enormous… *Ahem* No. not talking about that, because that's never happened. Ever. Ever ever ever. *Whistling*
No, no, no… I'm talking about being truly humbled. As in having a feeling of insignificance, or otherwise feeling unworthy of that which has been bestowed upon you. That feeling of…oh for the love of sweet bejeebus, STOP THINKING ABOUT WIENERS. I'm trying to be serious here! You know who you are. (Can I get back to it now? pleaseandthankyou.) I'm talking about that feeling that washes over you when you realize that, despite your faults, foibles and falters, there are those who care for you, no matter what, always. I came to feel this way yesterday afternoon.
As of last Thursday I am officially forty years old. Once again I pass a checkpoint in the game of life (and I speak figuratively… not talking about the weird 3D board game with the little pink and blue pegs that I used to pile in my sisters' slippers…) having failed, in my eyes, to achieve one or more self-imposed goals I had anticipated reaching by the time such checkpoint passed. For other reasons unrelated to my age (yet having significant basis in timing), this particular milestone was an especially difficult one to reach. I felt very alone, and simply wished that the week would pass quietly and quickly. It did not, by any means, which only made the events that took place (or did not take place) ever the more poignant.
Indeed there were bright points, thanks to close friends, a couple of drinks, and the love child of Gene Simmons and a Mon Chi Chi (THAT, my dear readers, is a story in and of itself which we will explore at another time…), but I was still feeling a little "Cameron." [NOTE: Gratuitous reference to Ferris Bueller's Day Off.] That changed significantly, dramatically, Sunday afternoon.
I am blessed to have wonderful friends with whom I have shared over half of my life, and then some. Through the years there have been extraordinarily awesome times that included practical jokes involving back-up beepers (hehehe one of my best… *pats self on back*), fun with Jeeps, laughter, tears, packing peanuts, and one international near-incident involving a Canadian Mountie...or three. [Note to RCMP: We're sorry, eh. We love your winter sports, Anne Murray and syrup.]
Two of those friends offered to take me out yesterday afternoon, knowing fully well I was in a bit of a funk (and not in the Marky Mark & the Funky Bunch kinda way). Well, they picked me up and we drove out of my apartment complex. The driver went the wrong way, said oops and turned around… and proceeded to drive right back into the apartment complex and pull into a parking spot at the clubhouse. It was then that I looked around and began to notice vehicles that looked vaguely familiar….
*pause*
Son of a biscuit!!!!!
I got got, and got got good. It seems a surprise party had been orchestrated. Given all that's been going on in my life, I was completely unaware. Thankfully so, because when I walked in there was a room full of family, friends, together, for me.
[Insert gigantinormous dose of humility HERE.]
Before me was a friend I've known since the first day of kindergarten (readers fluent in mathiness can just shush and not mention how many years ago that was); friends I hadn't seen in many years; best and closest friends, friends that traveled from far away; new friends; and friend(s) I'd very much like to get to know better. All were there for the sole and specific purpose of honoring, well, me, on my birthday.
That moment, walking in and seeing so many gathered just for me, was perhaps one of the most humbling moments of my life. (Well, except for the moment mentioned above… but seriously, that dude was like six foot nine and proportional… I mean… *ahem*) It was like an episode of This is Your Life, and I was the contestant. The humbled, and very fortunate, contestant.
By the time the night ended there had been stories told, laughter shared, memories revived, food and good scotch consumed, and multiple embarrassing photos, including the gratuitous, 1970's nekkid-baby-on-a-blanket pic, posted all over Facebook. (Incidentally, camera-snappers… retribution will be swift, and unexpected….) You know what? I don't care. Really. I don't. You know why? Because it's me. It's all me. I make no pretense, I am who I am, and cannot change who I was. (Of course I can't lie about it now, either, thanks to one that dug out all of those photos…. *coughcoughMOMcoughcough*) No, I don't care. Because all those that attended, and felt compelled to share the photos, were there for me. And I cannot begin to express my appreciation.
So… all that being said… there are a couple of things I need to clear up:
A. No, I have never actually flown a jet fighter;
B. I made a damn good Bob Ross at Halloween (and if you don't think so, you know where you can shove your happy little trees….);
3. I was in shape… once…
D. I wasn't actually born with grey hair;
V. Yes, I wore a light blue leisure suit at the ripe old age of four (and I rocked it, thankyouverymuch); and, most importantly….
6. I had a one cute little baby butt.
So, thank you, one and all, for giving of yourselves so unselfishly, and allowing me the honor of calling you friends. It truly is my honor. I could not ask for a more wonderful group of people to have in my life.
Ok, enough sap… I will leave you with these final parting words (and I mean final as in for this post, not, you know, final… I have a lot of bacon to eat and scotch to drink before my mess of a life comes to an end), and I hope you take them to heart: Thank you. I love you. Yes, when I blew out the candles, I made a wish about one of you. (Now you're wondering, aren't ya?) And do I still have a cute butt? Well… yes, yes I do. Sorry, humility only lasts so long.
With sincerity and love:
jj goodman
© J.J. Goodman 2013. All rights reserved.