Why Me Lord?

 I have loved the Kris Kristofferson song since I first heard it, though I change the lyric "Jesus" to "Big Man," as I believe in the Dad but not the son. The history of the song is that Kris was invited to church at the time he was very atheist, and felt the spirit inside him, immediatley humbled by the manifold blessings given to him despite his glaring imperfections as a man.

I agree. I am daily humbled by the Big Man -- why have I been given so many amazing gifts in my life while others seem so bereft? Yes -- my inherited sunny disposition helps quite a bit, and some people seemed forever trapped in feeling most natural and fulfilled when they complain about what they DON'T have.

My answer to that was taught to me years ago by my friend Yossi the Rabbi. That man is truly wealthy who is satisfied with his lot. Hell -- I can compare my life to Tom Brady's. Fabulously wealthy -- greatest NFL QB of all time, supermodel, richer than he is, wife. And, according to my friend Alex, who knew him at Michigan, a genuinely nice guy.

Objectively, compared to his life -- mine sucks! And yet I admire Brady -- would gladly shake his hand if I ever met him -- but am quite content with my life. Hell -- apparently that super model wife of his, the Brazilian, has a chronic medical condition he must daily battle: she suffers from nymphomania. I am SO thankful Wifey was spared that dreaded malady.

Anyway -- the feelings came bursting through last night. It began Friday -- I was surrounded by dear friends from different parts of my life who all came together for a fine meal.

Most significantly, D1 and Joey recovered from an awful bout with Covid -- and the little man and his jumbo toddler brother were fine, too. And then yesterday afternoon, D2 and Jonathan came by, to drop off Betsy the enormous dog while D2 dragged Jonathan to a local couples' baby shower.

Jonathan spied a large brown fancy bottle on my liquor cabinet. It was Don Julio 1942 tequila, which sells for $200 a bottle. Where had I gotten it? I had no clue -- friends know to buy me vodka -- tequila isn't my drink. Was it a gift for a party? No clue -- but there it was -- about 1/4 of it left. So Jonathan decided we HAD to pregame the shower -- and so I got my frozen Stoli Elit, and poured a prosecco for D2, and we 4 sat in the dining room toasting -- Wifey stuck to selzer. 

The first glass for we men turned into 2. I looked at D2, in a white party dress, and saw how beautiful she was. D2 is a natural beauty who typically dresses down, and wears nerdy glasses, and downplays her looks. But yesterday it poked its way through, and I so adore her, and so began to cry. She and Wifey properly made fun of me -- D2 pointing out that the years usually only come with Paul is drinking with me, and he says stuff to cause me to "get in touch with my feelings." But I did it solo yesterday.

The younguns left for the party, and I kept tippling the Stoli. I played DJ, and put on Ramones and B52s, and made Wifey dance with me. I selfied us, and meant to sent it only to Wifey. Instead, it went to Wifey's BFF, too, who was puzzled -- why was she getting a video of a couple dancing and having fun? Because I sent it by mistake!

Anyway, I UberEated Anthony's Coal Fired, and then we ate pizza. And danced more. And then D2 and Jonathan returned, to a thrilled Pyragold.

They had eaten, but the lure of Anthony's wings called to them, and I drank sobering up tea while they ate. I was just SO happy. And then Jonathan put a cherry on the sundae. He had been reading fiction more, to escape his mental world of high finance -- what might I recommend? He was asking an always frustrated and unrequited English professor -- and we strolled into the library where I gave him a leather bound volume of some Jules Verne, and one of my sleeper favorites: "A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole, a one hit wonder book I learned about when I took a literary walking tour of NOLA. 

I know he'll enjoy them.

Anyway, I woke up this am AFTER Wifey, a rare occurrence, and she had already fed the dogs. I apologized to her -- was last night just TOO MUCH fun? No, she said, she loved dancing and wished me more nights like that.

Later today we're off for some grandson visiting. The baby is adorable. The toddler is absurdly hilarious and adorable.

Indeed -- why me, Lord?