The splendor of achievement!
Go ahead, do some chest thumping and bullhorn bragging – never mind if the only audience you have is in the mirror. If anybody accuses you of blowing your own trumpet, tell them you know your song best. Believe it or not, there is a lot in you to brag about every once in a while. Something or the other you are the ‘world’s greatest’ at is in there. I mean, about 7.5 billion people in the world and by some strange how, there is only one you? If there is no other reason, then that little statistic makes you the world’s only, eternity’s one and only, the greatest you of all time.
Go on, say it: “I’m the world’s greatest me.”
R.I.P Muhammad Ali.
Somewhat late is better than never, I’ve heard. I meant to post my condolence message after work on Friday. Also had lots of the other great things on my ‘to do’ list for the weekend gone including my personal tribute to Ali – a boxing class on Saturday morning at a gym near me (yep, my adventurous spirit is still intact). Someone letting out an almighty sneeze next to me on a crowded train Friday morning did not leave me thinking much of it until nearing the end of the workday when I developed a deeper cough. Something that sounded and felt more serious than the usual seasonal allergies I had been living with – the red, itchy, watery eyes/scratchy throat/sniffles, etc. Short story, I spent my weekend from Friday night feeling like I had misguidedly challenged Muhammad Ali to a fight that had Mike Tyson jumping in on his side. I finally got up after midday on Sunday, managed a short post before being floored again. Started feeling human again today.
I didn’t do the boxing tribute, but I remembered a clip from the Zaire ’74 concert that I came across late 2104 when I was helping write a biography for a Congolese musician – who had a connection to a performer at this pre Rumble in the Jungle music fest.