Sunday, January 8, 2017

Take on The End

Once upon a time not so long ago

I sat in my room last night feeling like Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler.   My knees hurt, my back hurt but still I could hear the cheers, the roar of approval.  

This was the first one where my kids were present, but at least the DJ was kind enough to wait till they were retired to the bridal suite.  I kind of thought it wasn't going to happened but when they put on AC/DC shook me all night, kind of figured it was go-time.  As the guitar strokes, I take a swig of Miller Lite as I make my way through a crowded dance floor, my wife b-lined to the sanctity of the bathroom, not wanting anything to do with any of it.   She's seen it, she's bored of it, she knows me and thinks I'm a moron...and she's probably right. 

I had all my extended family there, my boss was there, all my parents friends and of course my brother'a in laws, so without at least some booze it always seems like a terrible idea at about 9pm   I gave up drinking heavily at weddings years ago, so this one was done basically sober but somehow just those first few notes of Livin' On a Prayer brings it all back  

I can proudly say that I left it all on the dance floor even it wasn't as agile as I was in my prime.  I certainly wasn't as quick or slim as before, as quickly I come to grips with my own mortality.  I realize that I'm like that forty year old pitcher, 8 have 3 minutes in my body and then....I'm done 

Years ago this was just the culmination of a crazy night, now it is all I have.  I can't even make it past the big guitar solo, I do a few less push-ups, spend a little more time jogging around before I teeter out knowing the big finale is still to come.   The jacket flies into the crowd, the shirt doesn't unbutton, so I tear off the top button knowing it'll cost me $20 from my deposit, slide goes off without a hitch, mostly because I have knee pads on under my tuxedo pants.  It's not like it used to be but it's ok

like Joe DiMagio told a young Mickey Mantle when they were coming off a back field in spring training...jog kid, there is somebody out there who hasn't ever seen you, so although it isn't Mick Jagger in 1965, it's still Mick Jagger or maybe better yet, Meatloaf.  

Sent from my iPhone

1 comment:

Mr. R. Lee said...

Hey. That bride isn't bad at all.