1. Olympics
Watching the Olympics has become a daily pastime for us, with each event a consistent reminder of how painfully average we all are. Unlike some Olympians, we’re okay with being average. In fact, we revel in it, but not Sweden’s Greco-Roman wrestler. Nay, for Sweden, it is the triumph, not the struggle. After watching Sweden’s temper tantrum after receiving the bronze, we couldn’t help but remember the antics of one of WWF's best wrestlers: the Undertaker. Craig, D, and I had the fortune of catching the Undertaker's title match while waiting at the ER. I haven’t seen drama like that sine Ali took on Frazier. The Undertaker punctuated his win by pushing his opponent into a well placed coffin, which was strategically located next to the ring.
Playing WWF at the ER seems fitting. I see it as good ol' American marketing to secure future clients. At the same time, it's educational. I know I appreciated the learning experience. Whenever Craig gives me lip, I'll just take a metal chair to his head.
Speaking of wrestling, here’s another dramatic Olympic sport: equestrian. In all the hub-bub over steroids, somehow horses slipped in. How'd the IOC miss that? Watching the horses prance around got us thinking: if horses can be in the Olympics, why not other animals? Behold, a new Olympic sport: cat herding. We're thinking the match could be divided into two sections: first corralling, where agility would garner high marks; and second, cat warfare, which would require hand to hand combat with the feral beasts. Extra points would be awarded for emotional fortitude, especially braving aloofness and psychological trauma. Each round could be adjusted according to difficulty based on moodiness, how long it’s been since their last pedicure, and corralling beasts out of hard-to-get areas, like dark corners and closed in areas. Maxie and Sam – along with their handler, Erin – would be excellent contenders for the gold. The vets have to knock Maxie out just to clip his nails; Sammie, though suffering from renal failure, is otherwise in excellent, moody condition. So, why not?
2. Existential questions
People call me random, partly because I ask random questions. Take yesterday, for instance. After pondering the question myself, I asked C if he’d rather be a fireman or paramedic. He answered fireman, because they can kick in doors? Challenging my random credentials, Diane later asked, “If you (Craig) could be reincarnated, what would you become? Craig answered that he’d want at least one of his rotations to be a bald eagle, because they’re free and soar in the sky. Either that or Walt Whitman. The fact that he's a) entertaining our questions with an answer; and b) providing elaborate detail to those answers reminds me that Craig is still very much Craig. When he's feeling well, he's still as goofy and playful and witty as before.
Whatever the occasion, Craig was always right there with us, playing along. He'd play dress-up and sing annoying songs and discuss random topics with us as if there was no place he'd rather be. And he'd always have the best sense of humor. His ability to remember obscure poets/philosophers/dates in time/political movements, etc. is impressive, and he could pull out obscure references with the best of them. He’s a steal trap of random knowledge. We all have our specialties. Erin is master of all things musical and pop culture; she has a knack for remembering every song ever aired on TV or radio. It's truly impressive. For Diane, she's a master of movies. She’s seen 'em all -- even the stinkers (e.g. Step Up II: The Streets...why???...was there really more to the story to warrant a sequel?). I’m more of the random story/did you know person, who can share tales of serial killers and then, just as easily, traverse through political events in Tajikistan. Get us together and we make a decent trivial pursuit team.
3. Remembering
For some reason, I had the urge to reread some of Craig's old emails to me, as if in an effort to remind myself of how things were. It was great looking back in time, at the banter between four best friends. We used to tease each other, with everything fare game. I remember making fun of his abundant confidence when traveling around Thailand. My suggestion to him when he became ill: perhaps prancing peacock should fluff down his feathers before he upchucks his insides. Like always, his reply included something overly witty and slightly vulgar. Referring to some remark Erin made about a Grey’s Anatomy episode, Craig assured me that “nothing had flown up his pee-pee hole” during a boat outing in Koh Phi Phi. Craig prides himself on his creativity; he always takes time to write so that it adequately addresses whatever was said in the previous correspondence before moving into some witty rant on his own life.
That's what I love about Craig. He's always playful; he's always fun-loving; he's always considerate. It pains him to know he can't be as actively engaged in our lives, or his friend’s lives, as he once was. Each email he receives garners a "I need to email so-and-so to thank him/her for the email" response. That's Craig. He's fighting for his life but still thinking about others. And I doubt he'll ever stop. -- J
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