Ambition

Before our show on Saturday, Bill and I walked the kid and the dog a block over to the school park near our house.

We like to swing and throw the tennis ball for the dog and chase Mar around and play on this curvy ladder thing that has a bug head.

This is a picture of Bill and Mar from another trip to the park:


While Mar was chasing Quincy and Quincy was chasing the tennis ball, she found an under-inflated, but-still-bouncable basketball. Bill and I began a pathetic game of "we're so white" which had us shooting again and again and only very rarely making a basket.

Every time the ball would bounce, our stick-figure-like dog would try to get the ball away from us. When the ball rolled on to the grass, she descended upon the ball like it was a cat box full of fresh cat turds. She tried desperately to bite the ball again and again.
Lookit the size of her mouth. Then lookit the diameter of the ball.

It just wasn't gonna happen. But the pea-brained dog was not deterred by the fact that — unless she was part snake and could actually unhinge her jaw — she was never going to feel the satisfaction of plunging her teeth into the skin of that ball.

However, the prospect of possibly sinking her pearlies into that ball excited her so. She ran in circles and chased the ball, be-boping and scatting all over the place.

And even though we just though she was more than dimwitted to exert such energy into something that was, for all intents and purposes, impossible, I think there is a lesson here; a moral, if you will:

Sometimes you just have to give into the dream wholly and take joy in the endeavor regardless of the outcome.

I'm gonna be more like my dog (except, I don't think I'll jump on people when the come over and then sit so desperately close to them ... but then again, maybe I should) and find the joy in the act and to hell with the result.