“Learn from the mistakes of others. You can never live long enough to make them all yourself.” — Groucho Marx
Technically I am supposed to be at the gym now but someone forgot to tell my muse that I am supposed to be tossing iron around so that I can turn back the clock and make this 44 year-old body look like it did when I was 20.
So I told the muse to enjoy a double dose of STFU and in return she/he/it grabbed me by the ears and forcefully pushed me into the chair and demanded I write.
But you know me, I am not a guy who goes down without a fight so I whirled around and tried to smack that little bastard in the teeth but the problem is that I didn’t have anyone to hit but me, so I shrugged my shoulders and sat down.
Figured that I could give myself five minutes to share a couple of thoughts and tales and remind you all that the best blogs are written by people who know how to tell a story and that the only way you can make that happen is by practicing.
Is Character Developed Or Genetic?
Ask Ma and Pa Wilner to tell you some stories about me as a wee lad and whether I ever got into trouble and I am guessing they will tell you that I was a good boy, more or less.
But I imagine they might tell you about the time when I was around five and told my father that instead of being punished I wanted to fight him. Or maybe they’ll tell you about how when I received the occasional “potch” I would tell them that “I take this potch and I throw it away!”
If I had my druthers I might ask you to ask my grandfathers about me as a youth because stories would be much better and they would tell you that I haven’t made more than three or four mistakes in my life, including my failure to double down that one time in Vegas, but we can’t talk about that now.
And maybe we’d look at those few mistakes and ask whether there was a connection between them and if perhaps I made the same one more than once or if perhaps once burned made me fear to do it again.
When I think about some of the events of the last few years and my response when things didn’t go my way I think about the stories I shared and smile because in some respects my reaction is the same.
The Same But Different
It is the same in the respect that I want to fight, but not in a literal sense. I don’t feel the need to go beat someone up, but I do feel the need to fix things.
Call it a competitive nature. I don’t like losing, not that anyone does and when it happens I try to figure out how to win the next time around.
Sometimes I look at my own children and wonder what they will be like when they are older. Will the behaviors they exhibited as babies continue through to adulthood?
Will my son always hate chocolate? I don’t care that he does, just curious. Will my daughter continue to love to write like me and tell me that she has a “passion for fashion” and that I have none.
Again, doesn’t really matter, just curious.
Groucho Is Right
Groucho is right about learning from the mistakes of others but if you ask me there should be a line there about not being afraid to make your own.
And while those of you who know me try to read between the lines let me help you and promise not to reveal any more about what lies beneath the surface here because that is not the point.
The point is that if you are going to bother living life than you might as well be willing to dance in the fire from time to time because you can’t get through this place without getting burnt at least once so you might as well enjoy yourself while you do.
Got to run, now because the muse has walked out and I have to use my stealth and grace to hit the gym for at least a little while.