A Tale of Two Men

So Wifey and I set out last night for a fun evening. On our agenda was having dinner, and then dropping off two gifts. The first was a check to Samantha, who spent a week at our house with D2 while we were in NC. It was the FINAL time D2 would have an overseer, as she turns 18 in February. The second gift was for our friends' granddaughter, who turned 1 a few weeks ago. We missed her birthday party, and wanted to drop off the hand crafted potty seat Wifey found for her.

We walked into a local deli, and recognized an old acquaintance. He's a long time friend of my partner, Paul. I'll call him Chuck, since that's his name. He's a tall fellow with a sardonic sense of humor. He used to be a lawyer. Wifey and I stood by his table while he was onhis cell, and he ignored us. Vintage Chuck, I thought -- that's his sense of humor. We sat at the next table and invited him over. He declined.

For the next 30 minutes, as we chatted and caught up, I was dumbfounded. This man was the most miserable, anhedonic creature I've ever encountered. NOTHING was good in his life, he told us. The only stories he seemed remotely interested in were those of pain and sadness.

The truth is, he has been bedeviled by awful back problems over the past 14 years. He's endured multiple surgeries, and I'm sure intractable pain. But, he has 3 wonderful kids, and a new grandson. His wife hasn't left him. Any time Wifey and I attempted to swing the conversation towards his manifold blessings, he'd turn off.

Wifey, not famous internationally for HER perspective on life, tried to ask him about the concept of gratitude --the fact that he was out at a restaurant eating a meal, and able to walk, and function on that level. Wifey spent nearly 2 years nearly home bound with HER bad back, and so knows something about how debilitating it is.

Chuck would have none of it. No gratitude, only misery, and negativity, and more and more pain.

We left the restaurant, and I felt like heading to a bar for 3 vodkas. Instead we went to our friends' house.

I'll call the proud grandfather Arnald, since that's his name. He's not a peppy, happy type of guy. In fact, Arnald has deep set eyes and a looming physical presence (he's a former college football lineman) that used to make us laugh thinking of the poor boyfriends his 3 beautiful daughters would bring home.

As we sat with Arnald and Cathay, his wife, Arnald went on and on about the tremendous accomplishments of his friends and family. Cathay, a school principal, told about coming to a new school, and the mess it was. Arnald spent his money and time, and recruited workers from a local labor pool, and spent a weekend turning the place into "Disneyworld."

What a guy! I'm sure he battles demons just like Chuck, but he has chosen to live outside of himself --to focus on the good in others --and to become a heroic man.

The real meaning of this is best left to deeper thinkers than I am, but as an empiricist, I know what it means to me.

I can't wait to spend more time with Arnald, and maybe involve myself with some of these behind the scenes acts of charity. He and Cathay have a huge Christmas party each year, and hopefully will have it again in a few weeks. Last year, Arnald called for quiet. I thought he was going to offer Christmas prayers (he's a devout Catholic) but instead wanted to recognize his high school friend's son, who won an Emmy for his work as a comedy writer.

As for Chuck --next time I see him, I will literally cross the street to avoid contact. That man has raised the concept of being a pathetic downer to remarkable heights. Woody Allen himself couldn't make heads or tails of him.

Of course, I wish him well, but that's a waste of positive energy. He already HAS so many blessings to balance his miseries, but he chooses to revel in the pain. I choose not to share in that ever again.

So, in South Miami Dade, 2 50 something men go about their lives. One attracts me; the other repulses.