Sunday, August 6, 2017

THE NAME OF THE GAME

I WAS THREE MONTHS SHY OF BEING THIRTEEN. MY DAD WAS A SALESMAN IN THE DREGS OF MEAN AND LEAN TIMES. FOOD AND CLOTHING WERE NOT AUTOMATIC EASY-TO-COME-BY STAPLES. WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN REGULAR ITEMS WERE NOW IN THE LUXURY POCKET. MY DAD WOULD COME HOME AT THE END OF EACH WORKDAY WITH LESS IN HIS POCKET THAN IN THE MORNING.

ONE NIGHT, MY UNCLE APPEARED WITH A LONG FACE AND STILTED SPEECH AND HE WENT HEAD TO HEAD WITH MY DAD IN A CORNER OF WHAT WAS SERVING AS A "LIVING ROOM". I MANAGED TO SL

IDE ONTO A UNFOLDED, UNNOTICED BRIDGE-CHAIR.

AFTER SOME SHORT AND VERY AWKWARD SMALL TALK, MY UNCLE PRODUCED FROM HIS POCKET A FOLDED $50 BILL AND PUT IT IN MY DAD'S HAND. "THIS IS ALL I .
CAN DO".

MY DAD SAID NOTHING. JUST LOOKED AT THE BILL FOR AGONIZING SECONDS AND THEN SUDDENLY BURST INTO TEARS WHICH WERE FULL OF PAIN AND ANGUISH AND WOE. NO WORDS WERE NECESSARY. MY UNCLE FOLLOWED SUIT AS I WITNESSED TWO GROWN MEN CRYING INCONSOLABLY. YOUNG AS I WAS, WHAT WAS HAPPENING WAS AN EASILY DECIPHERABLE PLATEAU OF MISERY.

I HAD NEVER SEEN MY DAD CRY BEFORE, WITH SOBS THAT SEEMED TO WRACK HIS SOUL. THANKFULLY, I NEVER DID AGAIN FOR THAT TABLEAU MADE A LASTING IMPRINT.

THE TWO BOTTOM LINES IN LIFE: HEALTH AND FINANCIAL SECURITY. THE FIRST NOT ENTIRELY WITHIN ONE'S CONTROL; THE SECOND BUILT UPON SMARTS AND GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LUCK.

ADD ON: THE ABILITY TO TAKE AND RIDE WITH A PUNCH.

GOOD THINGS DO NOT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.

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