When was the last time you looked forward to an event and it lived up to your own self induced hype? I mean I look forward to sporting events all the time and many times they are epic battles, but did they live up to what I had envisioned? How many times have I gone out for a game and it went into extra innings. Sure the walk off home run got me off my chair at 1am, but I had to check the box score the next day to make sure I wasn't imagining this, because I was so drunk the night before that I had no clear memories.
How many times does a dinner engagement live up to the preconceived thoughts about it. The company is great, but the food is off that night, and while a good time was had by all, maybe you got stuck in two hours of traffic afterwards. What about the Thanksgiving dinner where you stuffed yourself to the gills only to get sick later that night. It's happened to me twice and it's my favorite holiday.
What about that girl that you can't believe your with? In the heat of the moment everything is perfect and then when the moment arises, it doesn't quite live up to the billing it received in your porn movie critics review perverted mind. Maybe it was you, maybe it was her, maybe it wasn't meant to be. It's life's little unfair joke that when men are at their sexual peak they are dopey older teens and when women reach theirs they are starting to lose their desirability (no offense all you cougars out there).
What about little things, like the never ending morning, where you finally sit down to eat your breakfast at 11am. A nice hot cup of coffee and a bagel, when the the phone rings and you get caught in a ten minute conversation with someone who obviously doesn't have anything better to do. You watch the steam dissipates and by the time you take your first sip the thrill is gone. Or the ice cream cone or milk shake that gives you brain freeze. Anticipation meets Pain. If you're a masochist, you still probably hates this.
I remember in high school a friend of mine sat eating around the center of a Boston Kreme donut. Every little bite he left the gooey center, just waiting, savoring ever last bit until the climactic last bite. We all sat watching almost mouthing his chewing motion, wondering when he would succumb and put the last piece in his mouth. And then, as quickly as lightening strikes, a bump of his shoulder and splat. The custard filled center lay on floor. One small tear formed in the corner of his eye. This was the start of a bad day. On another occasion a group of friends went to the Bronx to buy beer. As we sat in the 30 degree weather, we took off our gloves to fully experience the golden deliciousness of the 40oz of Olde English 800 that we were about the partake in. In a flash the bottle slipped, in slow motion he let out a scream. "NOOOO" echoed through the school yard. An hours pay, an hours drive, and for this? Another Saturday night ruined for a underage drinker.
So what am I getting at with my tales of heartache in the wake of anticipation? It's my newly found belief that as we get older things just don't excite us anymore. Going on vacation is fun, but how many of us need a vacation from that vacation. We realize now that we expend more energy relaxing than we do in our every day lives. Every Friday we hear the people exclaiming Thank God It's Friday. Only to hear how the rain washed away the fun, or the game wasn't that great, or the food wasn't what we thought it would be. Poor us. Optimists everywhere (OK, I have about 10 readers) are wrinkling their brow and saying to themselves that I am nothing but a curmudgeon, but I disagree. I do not want anyone to think this is my way. I just have a different outlook on the anticipation of my life.
As many know from reading an earlier blog that I hate the phrase It is what it is. To me this is a cop out. When I pay $200 for dinner it better be a little better than when I spend $40. It is what it is would have you believe otherwise. Here's what I do in almost every situation. I go in with the lowest possible expectations ever. A $10 bottle of wine. I go in with the thought that this will be crap and that any $20 bottle is better. When that $10 bottle turns out to be special, it makes it all the better. When the family get together proves to invoke memories I had all but forgotten and the old "how've you been" turns into "let's do this again" I am ecstatic. When the wedding turns out to be different from your run of the mill conga line/electric slide and features a band that has some chops, I'll even cut some rug. When the game goes into extra innings and I'm drunk as a skunk, but I'm sharing the moment with special friends, it's like an epiphany that these moments should be acquired with much more frequency. The reality is that they aren't. When we raise the level of expectations and we anticipate greatness we are usually let down. I have learned through experience and sometimes heartache that just anticipating being there is enough to make the time a little better. I believe those of us who prepare for the the least gain the most. I know I'm thankful for all those times I find special, but realize they are few and far between. Those who find every event special, probably have very sad and lonely lives. They call me a pessimist. I call myself lucky. Lucky that at one time in the past I had a time that meant that much more to me than they have ever had.
I anticipate greatness from one thing. My memories!
How many times does a dinner engagement live up to the preconceived thoughts about it. The company is great, but the food is off that night, and while a good time was had by all, maybe you got stuck in two hours of traffic afterwards. What about the Thanksgiving dinner where you stuffed yourself to the gills only to get sick later that night. It's happened to me twice and it's my favorite holiday.
What about that girl that you can't believe your with? In the heat of the moment everything is perfect and then when the moment arises, it doesn't quite live up to the billing it received in your porn movie critics review perverted mind. Maybe it was you, maybe it was her, maybe it wasn't meant to be. It's life's little unfair joke that when men are at their sexual peak they are dopey older teens and when women reach theirs they are starting to lose their desirability (no offense all you cougars out there).
What about little things, like the never ending morning, where you finally sit down to eat your breakfast at 11am. A nice hot cup of coffee and a bagel, when the the phone rings and you get caught in a ten minute conversation with someone who obviously doesn't have anything better to do. You watch the steam dissipates and by the time you take your first sip the thrill is gone. Or the ice cream cone or milk shake that gives you brain freeze. Anticipation meets Pain. If you're a masochist, you still probably hates this.
I remember in high school a friend of mine sat eating around the center of a Boston Kreme donut. Every little bite he left the gooey center, just waiting, savoring ever last bit until the climactic last bite. We all sat watching almost mouthing his chewing motion, wondering when he would succumb and put the last piece in his mouth. And then, as quickly as lightening strikes, a bump of his shoulder and splat. The custard filled center lay on floor. One small tear formed in the corner of his eye. This was the start of a bad day. On another occasion a group of friends went to the Bronx to buy beer. As we sat in the 30 degree weather, we took off our gloves to fully experience the golden deliciousness of the 40oz of Olde English 800 that we were about the partake in. In a flash the bottle slipped, in slow motion he let out a scream. "NOOOO" echoed through the school yard. An hours pay, an hours drive, and for this? Another Saturday night ruined for a underage drinker.
So what am I getting at with my tales of heartache in the wake of anticipation? It's my newly found belief that as we get older things just don't excite us anymore. Going on vacation is fun, but how many of us need a vacation from that vacation. We realize now that we expend more energy relaxing than we do in our every day lives. Every Friday we hear the people exclaiming Thank God It's Friday. Only to hear how the rain washed away the fun, or the game wasn't that great, or the food wasn't what we thought it would be. Poor us. Optimists everywhere (OK, I have about 10 readers) are wrinkling their brow and saying to themselves that I am nothing but a curmudgeon, but I disagree. I do not want anyone to think this is my way. I just have a different outlook on the anticipation of my life.
As many know from reading an earlier blog that I hate the phrase It is what it is. To me this is a cop out. When I pay $200 for dinner it better be a little better than when I spend $40. It is what it is would have you believe otherwise. Here's what I do in almost every situation. I go in with the lowest possible expectations ever. A $10 bottle of wine. I go in with the thought that this will be crap and that any $20 bottle is better. When that $10 bottle turns out to be special, it makes it all the better. When the family get together proves to invoke memories I had all but forgotten and the old "how've you been" turns into "let's do this again" I am ecstatic. When the wedding turns out to be different from your run of the mill conga line/electric slide and features a band that has some chops, I'll even cut some rug. When the game goes into extra innings and I'm drunk as a skunk, but I'm sharing the moment with special friends, it's like an epiphany that these moments should be acquired with much more frequency. The reality is that they aren't. When we raise the level of expectations and we anticipate greatness we are usually let down. I have learned through experience and sometimes heartache that just anticipating being there is enough to make the time a little better. I believe those of us who prepare for the the least gain the most. I know I'm thankful for all those times I find special, but realize they are few and far between. Those who find every event special, probably have very sad and lonely lives. They call me a pessimist. I call myself lucky. Lucky that at one time in the past I had a time that meant that much more to me than they have ever had.
I anticipate greatness from one thing. My memories!
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