Thursday, May 10, 2012

How Did This Happen?

There's a point in the 1996 Tom Hanks' movie That Thing You Do when Steve Zahn's character (Lenny) looks at Guy (played by Tom Everett Scott) and says:
"Skitch, how did we get here?"
The question isn't asked in frustration.  It's asked in amazement, excitement and bewilderment.  It's asked with as if saying, "is this real?"

(For the record, the answer is: "I led you here, sir.  For I am Spartacus" but that really isn't necessary to this conversation.)

So how did this happen?  "This" is relevant, but not.  This, and its cousin "It" (Get it?  Cousin It!?) are part of a larger consortium.  All it does is make you look at, you know, the big picture.  The game of life.  You're sitting on the fastball - you expect it - and suddenly - BOOM!

A change up. A curveball.  You're swinging from your shoes, and you hope to make contact so that you don't corkscrew in the batters box.

Four years ago, even five, I wouldn't have seen any of this.  Who would?  You know, "Life moves pretty fast", said Mr. Bueller.  Opportunity showed, but didn't seem right.  Something was amiss.  So move on, away from it.  Yet keep tabs on it.  Don't burn bridges.  You never know.

A year passes.  Two, almost three.  You've tried other things, and it's always still there.  Nothing pursued.  Kick the tires occasionally.

Then?  Then.  Yep.  Then...

THWUMP!  That's the sound of a brushback pitch, slamming into you.  It doesn't matter where it hit.  In a perfect world, it hits you on the small of the back, and maybe it was thrown softly.  But more likely, it's Armando Benitez, throwing in the high 90's.  Or it's Pedro Martinez, hunting for your head.  Either way, you go down.  You're mad.  You want to charge the mound, and let loose in a torrent that leaves no rosin bag unturned.

But.  No.  You take a stern look, toss the bat aside, and trot to first.  Stay classy, San Diego.

The game is played, and it is done.  Even if you want to ask "why?"  You simply don't.

It returns.  The stars align.  Fate deals its hand.  This time, it's a flat fastball that you simply hope to put a good swing on.  Opportunity has knocked again!

And that's when it hits you.

Things happen for a reason.

Yet as I type these words today, pondering how this really did happen, I find myself not wanting to know that reason.  I just want to enjoy it.

And keep moving forward.

(PS, I love That Thing You Do.  Excellent time warp)

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