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I'm not sure if it is post HOF blues or what, but some things have been making me say to myself, "why did you really finally give this up?" My knee jerk reaction is to tell the story of my wife's whipple procedure or her real battle with thyroid cancer and how these things made me realize that it can happen to me. This is true. But I have to tell you all about one day during burning season. Burning season in MA runs from Mid January until the end of April and it can be likened to hunting season. It is a time where no tree is safe and any beer quakes with fear of consumption. Basically, for me it is a time to relax. On the last weekend I had a pile to burn I was a couple of beers into the process and of course I had my old friend Skoal tucked in my left of center lip. I'm not sure where it came from but I thought to myself, "I wonder if I'll be around next year to do this again". I stopped putting things on the burning pile and sat down on my steps and began to sob. Would I miss the night my daughter (whos 10) opened on Broadway? Would I miss the night my son (whos 6) put on a Bruins jersey at his draft party? Would I miss their weddings? My wife saw me sitting on the step and shaking my head. When asked my reply was quite simply "I was solving the problems of the world". This ultimately led to my last bit of dip on April 22, 2007. I went to the dentist this week and I am very happy to tell you that while my gums and teeth are fucked, I have no cancer. So far, the answer to those questions remains a resounding, "NO FUCKING WAY". While I have some time to pass before I can say that for sure, what I do know is this: I will not put that shit in my lip! |
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