I gotta be more like Bug.
yeah, Bug.
Bug the goat.
oh, and like Terry. Terry the upholstery repair guy.
lemmie explain.
Bug, as you may remember from an older post, is the goat who is spending the winter on the farm with my family. ("Bug" is an acronym for Big Ugly Goat.) he runs loose around the barn, amongst the heifers, 20 barn cats, a couple of AFLAC ducks, and a 500 lb. turkey. he's the coolest goat i've ever seen. he greets you at the door with a goat-like grin, follows you around like a dog, and begs to be scratched behind the horns. i bet he'd even fetch a tennis ball if you had one. he does it all without saying a solitary word, bleat, or sound, which just adds to his charm.
but the coolest thing about Bug is he makes do with what he's got, and he's happy.
look what he's up against--he's in between homes right now. he lives with cats and ducks. he sleeps next to cow poop. the turkey hates him for no reason. he eats tin cans.* but still, thru it all, he gallops around like a frisky horse, loves attention, and has that infectious, glowing, goat grin. he doesn't let shit get him down (no pun intended.--ed.)
and just like those great people you meet in life, they come into your world, influence you, and are gone before you know it, on to the next adventure of their wild and crazy lives.
this is the same story as with terry the upholstery guy. i met him the other day at work. he makes interior repairs on used vehicles on the dealer lots of central new york. i took interest in what he was doing one day and he was more than happy to let me watch him work. (i didn't expect to get his life story, but when you fix cigarette burns for a living, you'd better spill your guts when someone shows interest.) turns out he is a retired engineer who at one time was given triple salary to move to hawaii (gee, tuff decision!) he has been everywhere, done it all, loved it, found the perfect wife who is his best friend, has a happy kid, and has friends all over the country and wouldn't hesitate to fly out at a moment's notice to play a game of touch football with his buddies in washington state. each explosively enthusiastic statement included my name and "man" (example: "ben, man, you should really join the air force, man, the stuff they do and the jets they fly, man, those are some amazing planes, man! ben, you're young, you're 26, have a four year degree, man, ben, you can do so much, do this, do that man, go here, travel there, ben, man....") he was incredibly encouraging without being overbearing and wacky. he did like the state trooper idea, so i must be doing something right. talking with the happiest SOB alive (as i like to think of him) has made me think even more about what i should do with my life if i don't get into the police academy. i've been telling myself for over a year now that i should go join a NASCAR team if i don't get in. or go work at the mecca of old jeeps, Collins Bros. Jeep in Texas. or fly to the moon in search of cheese. whatever.
there is a part of me like terry. i want to do things. i want to go places. i want to infect people with my happy-assed personality. i want to consider options and opportunities as they happen instead of making judgmental decisions in advance. i want the world to be just a little bit smaller so i can be everywhere a little more easily.
but then there's the dominant side of me that likes the idea of living on a beat-up little farm in northern new york. i want to be around my family. i like my honky little hometown, even though it is lacking as much in culture as it is in promise. i want my future children to go to a small school where they are a name rather than a number. i want to have a huge garage, a black lab, hayfields, and cattle. and i want to have a log cabin on the edge of the woods. but how can i have those things if i want to move out and experience the land of opportunity (read: anywhere BUT northern NY)?
as a compromise, i have pledged to be more like Bug and Terry. piss less. moan less. say something positive instead of realistic (gasp!)--just try to be more fun to be around. i know i can be funny...but how about funny in a positive way, instead of in a wry, "life-sucks-but-in-a-funny-way" kinda way? i can, and will, leave all avenues open. someday, when i have money and vacation time, i will definitely travel around this great country. i will someday soon go to italy and meet that girl i've been writing letters to for 10 years. i will take a scrambler trip to the florida keys and then to the grand canyon. i will have fun, dammit, and still have my log cabin on the edge of the woods.
who woulda thought a goat and an upholstery guy could have this kind of an effect on me? maybe it wasn't just them... maybe they were just a catalyst for me to make a few more realizations. whatever the case, i'm glad i ran into both of them.
*contrary to popular belief, goats do not eat tin cans. if given the opportunity, a goat may peel and eat the tin can label, which led to the urban myth (rural myth?) that goats eat cans. goat this, goat that, goats goats goats! if you say "goat" enough times in your head it starts to lose meaning...try it...goat goat goat...goat cheese, goat milk, goatees, goats goats goats. type "goat" into google and see what comes up! the blarf! whuh ha ha! what power. vive la goat! leave comments! (goat references not necessary.)
