So, yes! I am officially an author. My first publication will go live on Amazon, January 1, 2018. This is just the tip of the iceberg, baby.
I am a legend in my own mind. Yes. And so should you be as well. It’s fine to look up to other people and commend them for their honor and bravery. But don’t sell yourself so goddamn short. You deserve a pat on the back, too, ya know.
When I hear the word legend, I think of people like Alexander the Great, George Washington, Terry Bradshaw and a rabbit named Bugs Bunny.
When I hear the word legendary, I think of timeless stories like The Ice Bowl of 1967, The Battle of the Bulge, the Blizzard of ’78 and The Fall in Frankford Crick.
Legends… they make shit happen. And while most legends are famous for doing deeds beyond the scope of good deed doing, others are legends in a small place like a family or a church. I am sure you know some legends – and legendary tales – in your hometown. Whether it is a happy story or a sad story it is a legendary tale that has trickled down the line of time to the current day. You’ll hear one person tell the story and then someone else says “Legendary.”
A quick legendary tale from my childhood:
It was the winter of ’81 and a bunch of us were playing in the woods on Ryerson Road. The one half of the street was all houses, but across the way down the hill was a part of the Frankford Creek (Crick) and Pennypack woods. We were all playing in the snow. This one kid, David was in full snowsuit gear – we thought this was ridiculous – and we talked him into walking on the frozen crick just to get across to the other side. We watched as he stepped on the ice like a soldier through a minefield. His footing so gingerly and deliberate we were sure he’d make it across, except he was going so slow. Back then it seemed like he was trying to walk halfway across the Delaware River. In reality, the crick was maybe ten feet wide.
Do I really have to tell you the rest of the story? He crept onto the ice, it cracked, we yelled for him to get off. But it was too late. David and his puffy snowsuit fell right through the ice into the frigid water. He screamed and cried, we laughed and then gasped in shock. He laid there (his head and upper body above the water) and we ran to get someone to help him.
We told that story between us for years; each year the story got a little more hyped up. And at some point, it became… a legend.
Do your best. Be your best. Live your best life and yes… be a legend in your own mind. Because sometimes that’s all it takes to become a legend in someone else’s.
But never ever walk on dark ice.