Thankful

How much do I complain? In looking back on some of my Facebook post, evidently a lot. I have made it a point in my life to not gossip or tear other people down in order to make myself feel better, but it seems lately I have slipped. If I am around someone who is saying something ugly I make a smartass remark. Something along the lines of, “How is that view from the glass house you are living in?” And I wonder why the church has never sent me on a mission trip.

It is human to complain. You know how people have to put up signs when a certain issue needs addressing? Like a sign in a restaurant which reads, Please No Smoking In The Buffet Line. Evidently it happened so much the management had to address the issue. God and his kid made lots of signs about complaining, whining, and general unpleasantness because there was a great need. It became an issue long before I made it an issue.

I have a friend named Chad Raney. I have worked with him on occasion and came to know him through mutual friends. I have known a few of the girls he has dated, (there is a long list) and heard stories of his past relationships (long line there too). He is always good for a smartass remark. Once I asked him to proofread one of my blogs as he writes speeches. He told me his proofreading skills were worse than my credit.

I have a list of people I send smartass texts to on occasion. One day I was in an amusement park and sent out a text that I had seen 25 CT’s if I had seen one. Chad’s reply? Look in the mirror #26. That is exactly what I get for being so rude.

One day he posted something on Facebook about how even though he was having a horrible day - life is what you make of it, and that complaining about it will not change your fate. I commented that my life sucked at the moment. A few moments later the receptionist buzzed me to tell me there was a Chad Raney on line one. After he asked me what was wrong I launched into a long tirade about how hard work had been lately at my non-profit and I was taking it as a personal failure. I knew the job was going to be an uphill battle, but I had not expected it to be so taxing on me mentally. I asked him what was making his day so bad. He told me it was the anniversary of when he broke his neck at age thirteen and ended up in a wheelchair.

Obviously I’m the President of the Selfish Piece of Shit Club.

I felt worthless. I had just been caught smoking in the buffet line. I apologized until I was blue in the face and told him he had turned around my day. I admitted that when I run and feel like I cannot go one more step, I think about him and how much he would love to be able to take that one more step.

Over the years we have thrown out the idea of me pushing him in a race. That day he gave his usual response. “Listen Hooker, I am a quadriplegic. All I have is limited use of one arm. The last thing I need is your accident prone fool ass wrecking both of us and taking that away from me.”

He made me feel better about myself.