Aerial Orca Whales....A True Inspiration.
As the last particles of dust settle on another edition of the Olympic Summer Games we're left with one killer hangover. An inevitable outcome after going on a two-week bender consisting of nothing but pure competitive juices. If you don't feel inspired after watching Mother Earth's finest athletes represent their countries on the grandest of stages then go log some quality 'bro time' with Ryan Lochte. Just don't ask to make any pit stops at your local gas station....too soon?
Unfortunately much of our Olympic coverage consisted of stories surrounding religion, wardrobe choices, insect repellent, and what a typical night in Rio would look like for a group of drunk frat pledges....er, swimmers. Thanks for casting the old US of A in a stellar spotlight Ryan. What a giant bag of dicks made of out worthless shame that guy is. Alas, I digress. The media wasted enough of your precious time in this arena. We press on.
The Olympics. Competition at the peak. The peak of Everest! And do you know what else is so beautiful about the Summer Games? We only get it every four years! In an age where everyone gets waterboarded with every conceivable product, sport, show, food, or more accurately stated; CRAP. The Summer Games wet our whistles just twice a decade! I love it. When all those greedy little munchkins crave more shit here is a spectacle we are only rightfully allowed to appreciate but once a quadrennial. And we should appreciate this concept. Think about the things in life you love. Off the top of my head? Vacation, booze, sex, family reunions, Shawshank Redemption. The list goes on. The common factor? They are (and most should be) enjoyed sparingly. Vacation? Who doesn't look forward to going places they've never been with company they love keeping? Most of us work the majority of the year. For those few precious days off we relish the moments. Right? Sure, we've all daydreamed of winning the lottery and spending the rest of our days on one long vacation bender but who are we kidding? It'd get old! You'd stop appreciating the beauty of time off. Booze? That shit's for the weekend or an occasional weekday break. If we drank all day everyday we'd be alcoholic or members of a fraternity. No one wants either of those diseases. Sex? Tricky one. I'm no nympho yet I do enjoy the dance. Honesty is the best policy though so I'll tell you that I enjoy the times I do get to shake the sheets with my wife. Family reunions. Love family. Family first. Just not all 365. And lastly, TBS ruined the artwork that is Shawshank. I can only listen to Morgan Freeman narrate Tim Robbins life as an inmate so many times.
Point being this: We don't need to get 'Hansel and Gretel'ed' all experience in life. Take a break for God sake. Enjoy in moderation. The exception? Inspiration. Follow me down the road aptly named 'Point #2'.
The Olympics are special for another important reason. The Games inspire. No, you don't have to be a sports fanatic to receive that warm blanket feeling we all got when Abbey D'Agostino of the United States collided with Nikki Hamblin of New Zealand and they proceeded to help each other finish the race. You definitely don't need to be a sports nut to swell with pride when one of your fellow countryman hoist that gold medal over their head after claiming the top spot in their respective sport. Hell, maybe I'm just a tool who eats that shit up but it raises the population of goosebumps on my skin.
Alas, as I mentioned before, the Games can only give us those moments of inspiration every so often. But inspiration is something we should seek out constantly. We need to draw it in and store that nectar away much like the cactus reserves its water for those brutal desert days. HA! Where in the hell am I going with this one! Fucking cacti?! Trudging on....
When we don't have events like the Olympics where can we siphon our proverbial water from? I'll tell you where. Willy. As in the 'never-say-die' lovable orca whale from Free Willy. You remember that damn movie. And what comes to mind first (besides the catchy Michael Jackson tune)? The jump. The apex of achievement. Captured and forced to presumably live out his days in servitude entertaining chubby little ungrateful pricks at SeaWorld, Willy transforms both mentally and physically into one limp fin. Who can blame him? That'd be like getting caught and forced to live in a bathtub the rest of your life. I'm going limp just at the prospect of such a disastrous notion.
Yet with one young kid containing a heart the size of Willy himself, the chick from A League of Their Own, and a few mysterious Native American chants....Willy prevails. The jump heard round the world! Go on! Watch it! And no, I don't need you to tell me how you feel. I already know the answer.
Forget all those damn inspirational quotes and videos you see out there today. Forget Oprah, Ellen, or any other yahoo trying to tug at your heartstrings. This is the path. Free. Willy. There should be a picture of that wonderful whale jumping over those rocks of containment on every quilt, on every welcome mat, and on every bumper sticker across the world. Hell, they should make mobiles for baby cribs with little jumping whales. You know what THAT kid grows up to be? A winner.
So fear not when wondering where on earth you might grab your next little slice of inspiration and look no further than the River Jordan. If you don't get that reference then you'll never clear those rocks.
Now get out there and get inspired! Or continue shaking your head and wondering why you just wasted time reading that rambling.
Inspiration. Sa la na a yuum iasis....