Life Is Beautiful

Last night Emily came home from our neighborhood wine bar with a friend of ours, DC. I had opted to be anti-social for the night and watch the Dallas Cowboys playoff game at home and by myself. For those of you who are not one of my parents or sisters, you may not appreciate the degree to which I used to live and die by the Dallas Cowboys as a youngster. Imagine my crazed love for the Spurs and multiply that by ten, and that is how much of a Cowboys fan I was.

But last night, Emily and DC came in and watched the last three minutes of the game with me. And if you don't know what happened, I'll just summarize by saying it was a wacky game and a wacky ending. The Cowboys quarterback completely choked and fumbled the ball at the end and lost the game for the team.

Anyway, my point to all this is how little I cared. DC, who is a big Colts fan and knows way more about sports than I would have imagined kept saying she felt bad for me and Tony Romo (the guy on the Cowboys who choked at the end--not the guy who owns a chain of barbecued ribs restaurants).

I mean I was disappointed and I'm sure I said, "Oh crap" or something. But that was it. Apathy and perspective sunk in immediately. I mean I didn't even feel bad for Tony Romo. Hero or goat, he is still being paid obscene amounts of money to play a game.

The bottom line though is last night's game did not affect my emotional well-being at all. I still have a great house, have the best wife ever, a good job, live in an awesome neighborhood, have a quality family, family-in-law, a good group of friends, and I am healthy. If Tony Romo bobbles a snap on field goal attempt, that doesn't change any of that.

Of course the real test of this newfound, healthy perspective will happen in May. That's when the Spurs begin their playoff march.