vomitorium

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/sports/bb/7132223.html

Read the above linked article and then come back. Back? Good.

How horrifying is this article? On a scale of 1-10, 1 being mildly disconcerting and 10 being all consuming horrific, I give this a 7.4. A grown man intentionally vomited on a man and his 11 year old daughter. At a baseball game, America's pastime. He punched the dad after he vomited on him. I mean, seriously. That takes some guts (no pun intended).

I can't think of anything more humiliating that being vomited on, intentionally, and then beaten up. All visible on the jumbo tron. How do things like this happen? And who is this guy's parents? What if he has kids? Will he vomit on them to punish them? What color was the vomit? Was it mostly beer? Was it mostly hot dog? How much got on her? There are so many questions.

I don't understand how things like this happen. All I know, is if anyone puts a finger down their throat after an altercation with me--I'm running. I think I can outrun vomit.

just jump

There are these birds that walk on water. Well, not really. They walk on lily pads. Stepping carefully from pad to pad, hesitating, testing the next pad before putting on their weight on it. Sometimes it takes these birds a few test steps before they trust the lily pad to support their weight and get them to the next lily pad. Check out my friend in the picture. He is doing this.

I can not take credit for this knowledge. My dad said I was like these birds, African Jicanas. He would laugh and laugh at me as I tried to make decisions. I would test the waters over and over without making any real commitment to making a decision. I'd think about all the worst outcomes. And then I'd go, carefully. And sometimes, I'd get soaked. Most the time, I'd be fine and begin worrying about the next move. And that's how African Jicana's normally function. They make their way across lakes and ponds methodically moving from lilypad to lilypad, gently maneuvering their way to more food or better water or another African Jicana friend.

But sometimes, you wind up like the Jicana in the second picture. You run out of lily pads. You stand at the edge of all of other decisions and realize you've either backed yourself into a corner or that the next lily pad is there- it's just very far away.You can't test its strength. You don't know how it will feel. You don't know if it has roots. You aren't sure that you can make it without drowning. Now is the time for courage and creativity. So you jump. African Jicana's use their tiny, weak wings to fly very short distances. I guess, so do we, just until we make it to the next safe stop along with way. Those seconds in the air can feel like eternity.

In that eternity you aren't sure you made the right decision. You wonder if you will be safe again. You wonder about your African Jicana friend you left behind because you couldn't trust them for a lifetime . You hope that you can just make it to a landing spot. And if you can, you'll be ok.

Deciding to take a leap of faith onto a lily pad that is far away and very strange is hard. That strangeness overwhelms the reasons you knew you had to get to that new lily pad. At least, for a while. Then, when you are rested and fed and ready, you get ready to make another leap away from your old, another move closer to where you want to be. So you test, and you think, and you worry. Or you just jump. And trust, yourself.