Self-Caricature

It's hard to believe that the sun is low in the western sky as my fingers hit the keys before me. It's been that kind of day; full, busy, active. I slept until about 11:30 AM this morning and on arising had to immediately leave in order to return Mike to his truck. He wisely drove me home in my truck last night, after my birthday party, where I drank far too much to be safe anywhere near the driver's seat of a motor vehicle. Right after getting Mike to his truck, it was off to a Brazilian Barbeque Buffet for lunch with a group of friends, immediately followed by meeting Brian and Tanya to pick out tuxedos for the groom and groomsmen for their wedding. Then, after a light dinner with them, I am at last home and typing.

Last night my friends and I celebrated my fifty-ninth birthday. It was the kind of party I really like; loud, social, and fun with plenty of food and drink. I sat there, enjoying the people around me, behaving as I usually do, loud and inappropriately. It still amazes me that these people tolerate me. Some don't, I know this, but my friends pretty much accept me as I am. It is up to me to decide just what that is, just what I am.

The cake last night was a good example of what I mean. It was your usual flat cake from a store, except for the decoration. The scene was a leering old man in a wheelchair, tongue lolling out, rolling hell bent for leather, chasing a buxom young nurse, her face contorted in terror as she attempted to get away. Underneath was written "Keep Living The Dream". The number candles for "59" had been inverted to say "95". It generated a laugh for all and even my daughter said "Funny and appropriate to you, Dad".

Then I started to wonder. Is this my legacy? Is this what I have become, a caricature of a leering old man in a wheelchair? Is this what people will remember when I am gone? It's not what I want them to remember. I want them to remember the kind, generous man who was more interested in building community than building for myself. I want them to remember the humourous and intelligent man who could help them solve problems and achieve their goals. I want to be remembered as the man who made life better, just by being here.

I thought about that all day today, about that cake. I thought about what it meant, how it felt. I thought about my friends who pretty much all agreed that it was on the mark. It's true, I guess, that I am pursuing life very aggressively these days; I don't have enough left to waste it. It's true that I am not always the most appropriate man in terms of social convention or commentary. It's true that I will never stop chasing the dream. I just have to get used to the idea of being my own comic strip character.