A mate – yes I still have a few – is getting married next week to the love of his life. Last night was his bulls party – what normally happens at bulls parties is that things tend to get our of hand and with this particular mate, lets call him Plumb, and his mates, the odds were definitely in favour of this happening.
I have written before about my sparkling personality and effervescent character once a drink or two had been consumed. And had this bull’s party taken place last weekend or even a day or two earlier this quirk in my make up would have come to the fore. Many a shooter would have been drunk, and a story told. The talent scouts from ‘So you think you can dance’ would have been stabbing each other to have my signature of their capitalist contracts and today….I would have been writing this with my head in my hands, beads of sweat would have been in evidence on my brow, the joints in my knees would have been aching and the disapproving look of my wife would have withered even the most plastic of flowers. It would have been understating it to say that I would have been a whole lot less sparkling and effervescent.
But it’s not like that at all today. It’s so bad that not even the stripper from last night invaded my dreams. So bad that last night, with my limited time ticking by, I opted to leave early, not wanting to waste my last bit of attention on the second stripper. Things are real bad. Things are worse than what were expected. A woman, even as all knowing as my wife, will never understand. The problem is this actually; I have been confronted with the sad reality that I am dying. There I have said it. I am dying. You are some of the first to know. Please spread the message as much sympathy is required (as a side thought, why is the test of someone’s popularity measured by how many attend his / her funeral?) No amount of preparation could have got me ready for this.
Man colds are hugely underrated and little studied. This means that no one – read women here – understand what it means to be downed by this vicious virulent virus. Striking silently, man colds have the uncanny ability of affecting the virus carriers enjoyment of the simple things in life, like drinking beer, watching rugby, tanning meat and, well, watching strippers. Man colds strike, fortunately, not too often, but their effect is felt for months after. Medicine cabinets strain at the bulge of new partially used syrups and tablets, unsympathetic women, harshly treated, at the height of the fever it must be said, carry with them the burden of guilt for not doing more (I can never tell if its guilt or a grudge) when they should have. Your female children change as they realize, not only how close it was, but also what life in the future has for them in store and your male children become closer to you, witnessing and completely understanding the passage of life to death.
Yes, the man cold has struck. I am starting to weaken and I don’t know if I’m going to make it. Death, it seems is imminent. Next week seems so far away. The wedding is next week. Plumb, hope all goes well and that holy matrimony is not brutally cut short by the man cold. To my many friends and family, send money urgently for medical attention. To my overburdened but not very understanding wife, everything of mine will be yours, sorry about the debt though.
There may not be tomorrow, but I hope to make it through the night…..God speed.
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