Enough With Your Ambition

I don’t know how other people do it. By ‘it’ I mean anything. I don’t know how other people do anything.

I’m always impressed whenever anyone achieves the slightest of accomplishments. Like the other day when my daughter put together a 24 piece puzzle by herself. A modest achievement given her age and the fact that this wasn’t the first time she had worked on it. Nevertheless, I was immediately filled with pride over her obvious intelligence, and then quickly filled with shame when I remembered it took me twice as long to put it together the day before and I had to use a piece from a different puzzle in order to finish it.

My awe doesn’t stop at my kids, though. I find I’m most impressed by what professional athletes my age can do. Actually, if they’re my age I’m impressed they can do anything at all. Most professional athletes, no matter what the sport, are younger than I am. If you’re involved in a professional sport at my age and are able to remain upright for more than 15 consecutive minutes, you’re most likely a coach.

Every year around this time, I find myself particularly admiring the Super Bowl-winning quarterback, who in most seasons hasn’t reached his mid-30s or any part of his 30s, for leading a team through the duration of a grueling football season and then to the championship title. Sadly, though, that’s not so much impressive as it is the standard in professional football. The reality is that on those rare occasions when the Super Bowl-winning quarterback is in his mid-30s, everyone else really admires him for the simple fact that he can run 20 yards without vomiting all over his jersey.

But most non-professional athletes are wowed by rare athletic talents. What lazy slob wouldn’t be? I somehow manage to get blown over by Super Bowl winners, tiny puzzle assemblers and everyone in between. My jaw tends to drop when I hear of someone buying a house, earning a managerial job, writing a book, writing a screenplay, earning a Best Actor nomination, climbing Mt. Everest, or even just getting to Mt. Everest. I used to think doing any of those things is impressive at 25, but now I think they’re all pretty remarkable at 45.

I just never feel like I’m old enough, or talented enough, to pull off things the way others do who are my age or younger. I know one day when I’m strolling through the local farmer’s market while weighing the pros and cons of a cane compared to a scooter, I’ll mutter to myself, “How can that guy possibly run a fruit stand, he’s only 52 years old?”

A couple of psychological factors may be at play here. As one possibility, it seems likely that I use my incomprehension over others’ accomplishments as a way to justify my unimpressive, sloth-like behavior. Another factor might be… uh… no, I think that’s pretty much the answer (see, I can’t even come up with another reason).

There are those rare occasions when I surprise myself with what I can do. Like the time I proved not only how capable, but also how manly I am by fixing the gutter. Of course the only reason I had to fix the gutter is because I first proved how womanly I am by running over it with my car.

Even though trillions of people have done it before me, I still occasionally marvel at how I’m helping to raise two kids. Then again it’s too early to gauge how good of a job I’m doing. They’re still too young to get arrested or disappoint me with all of their major life decisions (although they are starting to disappoint me with their musical choices).

I can bowl over 200. Not in real life, but on Nintendo Wii. Is that something?

Perhaps I should give it a shot at an actual bowling alley. Or try to earn a Best Actor nomination. Or travel to Mt. Everest. I’m not climbing the damn thing; I’m in my mid-30s for crying out loud. You know how many jerseys I’d go through?