Swing Big to Hit Big

*This is sort of a sneak peak blog--starting Monday I'll be, once again, putting the Daily back in Daily Rice, this time from Europe though...

Babe Ruth hit home runs like Rocky hit Apollo, Mr. T, the Russian Drago, and in one of the most ill-advised movies of all time, Tommy the Gun (he also kicked him in the unfortunate street fight). But what most people forget so quickly is that not only did the Great Bambino hold the record for most home runs, he also held it for most strike outs. The point is clear: To hit big, you gotta swing big.

And boy have I been swinging.

**

Again, a plane soars high above the earth. Again, my heart soars with possibilities. Again, I find myself trying to figure this insanity that on better days I call my life.

Oh, and did I mention I haven’t even left for Germany yet? Yeah.

So the last few weeks have been many things, and many words may or may not one day be devoted to them. Suffice it to say it’s been the hardest month of my life. I’ve been pushed and pulled in so many directions, emotionally and physically alike, it’s hard to know where to begin. For that reason I won’t. I’m done before I even start.

**

But I will talk about the present. I’m soaring at so many thousand feet headed for San Antonio, a trip that NOBODY knows about yet. Oh how I love surprises! Long story short, our commander gave us an unexpected four day pass to go frolic about the country one last time. Operative word of that sentence being unexpected. I don’t imagine many young men can pull off a flight itinerary and plans for the week, not to mention turn in all the paperwork, purchase the ticket, pack, catch a ride to the El Paso airport in less than two hours, but hey, let’s not forget who’s writing these words. Never, and I mean capitol N Never, underestimate me!

Tragedy was breathing down my neck when I realized my flight was leaving in 45 minutes and I had NO ride to the airport. The taxi was god knows where and I was about to loose a few hundred bucks, unless you call a confirmation code scribbled on my hand a consolation prize.

A Honda Element was cruising down the road when I decided you’ve got to swing big to miss big. After all, the Great Bambino taught us that lesson. I walked into the middle of the street and placed my hands in the position of prayer, blocking the cars path. It was full of old women nurses who had rented a car and were headed to Albuquerque. Retaining my stance of a supplicant, I proceeded to tell them with great vigor and wild fancy my situation. Lady Luck herself must have knelt down to kiss my brow because next thing I knew I was sitting on one of their laps headed for the airport. A dash through the terminal that quite possibly qualified me for the summer Olympics 2008 and I was settling into my seat and pulling out the trusty old laptop. And here we are.

**

These next few days will be great. I’ll see some old friends, have the obligatory meet and greet with Rebecca’s parents (which I’m actually greatly looking forward to) and finally get more than 4 hours of sleep in a single night. Not that I really know what the word sleep means anymore. So if you read this and you haven’t heard from me, call me up and we’ll do lunch.

**

Life is crazy. It’s gonna get crazier. I’ve said this before, I’ll say it now, and I’ll keep saying it as long as I’m alive: Thank you to all the support, whether it be by way of text message, phone calls, letters, packages, visits, or just a prayer at night. It means the world and makes a world of difference.

At my going away party I said that it’s my friends and family that are the most special thing about me, and that is still the truest thing I can ever say.