No, it's not self-infatuation; I guess it would be closer to say I am mad at me. Or myself, whichever.
Like everyone else, I have my share of physical problems. Some of them are self-inflicted. Some are just my tough noogies.
But there is a young fella who comes to the physical therapy place where I try to work off some of the self-inflicted excess avoirdupois, and he's just a little, little guy. His life is in a wheelchair, except for when they take him to the p.t. place and he works with a physical therapist in the pool. I don't know the details of of his situation, and they are both not important here and also none of my business.
I see him being wheeled in and out as I work on the elliptical machines or the treadmill or the recumbent bike or the cable weight column or the stair-stepper, and it makes me so sad to think. This boy will never get to play baseball with his friends in some elementary school playground on a lazy hot July afternoon. Will he get to fall in love, will he get to be cool? The questions Neil Young raises are valid.
Another question: why on earth do I grumble over a gallbladder, complain about cartilage, beef about my back, fuss over my feet, kick about my kidneys, moan about my mandible, repine about my rotator cuff, sulk about my shoulder, wail about my wrist, or yammer about my yawning? I should not squawk about anything that life brings my way. I feel bad just thinking of times I did so, unfairly.
I see the boy's parents and I realize that God in his wisdom chose them carefully to take care of this child. It's plain to see that their lives pretty much revolve around him and always will. How inspiring to see that kind of love!
I'd like to tell them all I am sorry for their pain and trouble, but I have a feeling that they don't see it that way. Would that we all could show such forbearance in the face of obstacles one millionth the size of theirs.
If you think some football player or race car driver or movie actor is a hero, join me after work one day and I'll show you some heroes.
Remember the poem that was recited at Princess Diana's funeral?
Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone:
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in our own.
I feel sorry that it takes something like this to change my perspective, but I'm trying. Thanks for listening. Our regularly scheduled show, "Pickin' on Palin," will return at this time tomorrow.