I am a bad American

I am coming clean. I confess. I am a bad American!
I don’t give a flying fart about football and its Super Bullish Extravaganza!
In the McCarthy era I would have been blacklisted and investigated for anti-American activities.
In Iran, the Revolutionary Guards would have stoned me to death.
In the Middle Ages I would have been burnt at the stake.
Repent you heathen ruffian, they would have said, and before surrendering your soul to the Devil, acknowledge the infallibility of the Football League!

But I cannot help it. Football doesn’t turn me on.
I don’t understand or share the collective hysteria sweeping the country.
I don’t get any satisfaction in watching overweight players bumping heads. Pompom girls I could watch, but tattooed gladiators, no thanks.

I guess that some people like viewing football because it allows them to live vicariously through their heroes. They can very well imagine tackling their boss and leaving him on the field with some serious concussion.
This is satisfying!

These last few days I have been unable to tune in to any TV channel without being verbally assaulted by over-enthusiastic reporters.
They are everywhere interviewing players, parents, priests, pets…
They give breathless accounts of the quarterbacks’ most inner thoughts, what they ate for breakfast and what they think of global warming.

The country even temporarily forgot about Kardashian’s baby! Can you imagine… relegating Kardashian’s moneymaking enterprises to the news back burners!
That is truly un-American!

And, like at the St Patrick, everybody feels obligated to wear their favorite team’s colors. Even helpless babies are strapped in gaudy uniforms.
If I am not mistaken, I think that this could qualify as child abuse…

And then there will be the inevitable riots after the game.
Winning or losing, some punks will release their pent-up emotions by kicking garbage cans and smashing windows. The police expect it and don’t mind the overtime.

No, personally I refuse to subscribe to this mass hysteria.
Tomorrow I will probably find solace by munching on some homemade cookies while watching reruns of the Andy Griffith Show.

This is as American as can be!



Carpe Diem

Seize the day, for the future is always fraught with uncertainty.

I heard today of the totally unexpected passing of Christine McNamee (Claudie Chourré’s daughter) and it led me to pause and reflect upon the capriciousness of life.

261-carpe-diem-2-sw---1We tend to avoid thinking about death, but we all know that down the line awaits the ultimate stop sign.
We are inclined to procrastinate, to push back at a latter date a few things to which we only gave a passing thought.
It is a mistake.

We should avoid postponing, especially when it comes to the affairs of the heart.
I often said that friends are more precious than gold and I mean it.
Without chums to share the vicissitudes of life our existence would not have much meaning, but we often fail to show our appreciation.

We should cherish friends and family while we can, for the Grim Reaper comes often unannounced and doesn’t allow for late amends.

So, strive to be kind and generous, in thoughts and in deeds.
Forget and forgive perceived offenses. You will sleep better and it is good karma.

Go to the restaurant, take that trip, invite your friends for no reasons, and you will have no regrets when the time comes to take the inevitable leap to The Great Beyond.



Life coach

Lately I have noticed a lot of people proclaiming to be “life coaches”; frankly I cannot help being a little puzzled by their claims.

On television and in magazines, life coaches always appear to be young and handsome and I couldn’t help wondering where these whippersnappers got their experience and wisdom. In high school, the Playboy mansion?

But maybe a life coach doesn’t need to be experienced. Perhaps he doesn’t even need to be trained. Life coaching could be a calling, something like the priesthood.
Some morning you wake up, and you can feel very clearly that you should be a Life Coach.
Just like Moses.

Moses never trained to be a life coach. One morning he woke up and feeling a little cranky, he decided to climb the mountain nearby for a little exercise and relaxation.
Upon returning he simply told his people: follow me, I’ll be your life coach. Nobody asked for his credentials. But by then he was pretty old and people assumed that he was experienced.

Personally, if I were to look for a mentor, I would probably also settle for an older person.
In Greek mythology, Mentor was a friend of Odysseus king of Ithaca. When Odysseus left for the Trojan War, he put Mentor in charge of his palace and his son Telemachus.
I can understand that, because by then Mentor was an old man and he had seen a lot of action in his younger days.

So the first thing to remember is that a Mentor should be a relatively older person. Somebody no younger than sixty.
And no, chiseled abs or a large bosom do not compensate for a lack of experience.

The second nagging question I asked myself is: why would anybody need a life coach?
If you are handicapped, feebleminded or totally incapable of making a single decision (congressmen come to mind) I can understand, but why would a normal human being put his fate in the hands of some unknown dude?
Is this potential guru widely travelled? Has he/she spent some time in an Indian ashram? Did God reveal to him/her stuff that common mortals like us are not privy to?

Excuse me for being so crass, but like Saint Thomas I have a lot of doubts and need to be reassured before putting my fate in somebody’s hands.

I’ll tell you what…
I am over sixty, I have been around, I know a thing or two about pétanque… I am offering to share my infinite wisdom with you.
For a modest fee, I will change your life, and mine.

When I am through with you, you’ll be a different person and I will finally be able to live in style somewhere in the Marquesas Islands of French Polynesia.
Is it a deal?

No rush. Think about it.
I am always available for a free consultation.