Okay, so my friend Morgan is more than just a paramedic, and he's not the only one who figures in this story; my friend Charles does too. I just like the near alliteration of the title so had to go with it. I've known them both for about 20 years, (they've known each other longer than that) and this evening of shooting pool at the Rivoli is part one in the tale of why Noah, Jake and I are taking this trip.
That's not where the night started though. This night started at The Cameron House seeing Morgan's one man show "The Emergency Monologues". Highly recommend by the way. Charles and I had planned to meet up, see the show, and catch up after a couple months of not having connected. I ended up working door. This is what happens when you go see a friends show by the way, so chat time with Charles was limited. Conveniently though, after a fantastic show and helping Morgan load up his car (see previous note about friend's shows) we all needed a bite to eat so headed east along Queen looking for possible prospects, and landed at The Rivoli. Now, if you don't know the Rivoli, well, go look it up, that's what the internet is for. Suffice to say, it's a good spot to share time with friends, eat, drink, shoot some stick and not get laughed at too badly for sucking so bad.
We got our table, ordered our food a drinks and got down to the serious business of deciding what version of 8-ball to play. I admittedly am a novice, so when the idea came along that you could split the balls as low, mid and high ball between the three of us, with the 8 ball being the coup de grace for any player, I was astounded by the brilliance of it all and proceeding to scratch my little heart out all across the felt.
Charles and Morgan got to talking, as they are want to do, being friends and all. Charles and his wife Susannah had been discussing the idea of taking their two girls out of school for an extended period and doing some travelling. He had mentioned it to me once before but was now talking in earnest about it with Morgan. You see, Morgan and his wife Lydia had done precisely that with their three kids for a period of near four months a couple of years prior. They were exchanging notes. They were discussing pros and cons. They were discussing waking up on mountain tops, along walls of a castle, seeing a new city everyday, not driving in India, how spending ones life in an RV would be fantastic. They were discussing dreams lived and waiting to be lived. They were discussing how it brings a family closer together, how it prepares the kids in ways no school can, how it can change everything.
They were kicking my ass. At pool. At parenting. At life. Roughly in that order.
So I kept listening. Morgan won another game. Charles and I ganged up on him.
He deserved it.
Shark.
I shared my newly found immediate desire to do the same thing. I told them it sounded incredible, that they were right, and that they were so lucky, ever so lucky to be able to such things. I told them it was impossible for me to even think of doing such a thing. My sons' mom and I are divorced and we share custody - she'd never say yes to such a trip. I don't drive, how could I get us everywhere we wanted to go affordably. I have a 9-5 Monday - Friday kinda job where I do "important stuff" - how could I step away from that for any period of time. People NEED me. I love my apartment. The boys are in or are soon to be in high school where the demands are much greater than in primary/junior school. Name it. Everything was a reason that made it impossible.
So I kept doing what I did pretty well and sunk the cue ball. Charles did too.
I was pool table green with envy. And despite what Kermit may say, it is actually pretty easy. But the evening continued, and with it so did the conversation, and topics changed, and more games were lost (I think we won one somewhere in there), and eventually as all nights do, this one ended.
As if it had been a night out at a casino (according to popular legend anyway) the next couple of days the feeling kept with me. It started with:
"WHY can't I do that? What makes them so different from me that they can do this and I can't? Well, lot's of things. For one..."
Which slowly became:
"Why can't I do that?"
Which became:
"Sure, I could do that."
And finally:
"I am going to do that."
So while envy is one of the seven deadly sins and all that fun stuff, it strikes me that even these feelings we're not supposed to have, or are told to feel bad about having, actually have the potential for positive change. And to be clear here I am not making a sweeping endorsement for the seven deadly sins, but I do believe that what you do with any particular feeling, how you act upon it, is what actually matters. It's where you direct the focus. Some people may choose to direct the focus externally, not on the source of the feeling (that's all comin' from the inside), but on the trigger for the feeling. And ya, certainly something I can be guilty of. This time though the focus was internal. Sure Morgan doing this and Charles talking about doing it spawned the idea, proved it possible, and got the ol' big wheel green machine rolling along inside my head. But it was cool. The idea of such a trip was incredible, and something I'd wish for them and anyone. I just needed to wish it for myself too.
So I did.
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