The Wingman

They say "it takes a village".  But there are times that I think the village isn't anywhere near me, or I've forgotten how to get there.  It's these times when I need someone who can understand where I am and what I'm facing.  So the hell with the village.  I want and need a Wingman.  And I have one.

A million years ago I worked for Atari.  It was the strangest and most amazing 3 years of my life.  The last 120 days were spent in the National Accounts, the one place where I was "safe" from all the bodies being thrown overboard.  And it was there, in fashionable Downers Grove, IL, where I met John.  I'll leave his last name out of this, as I'm sure he'd prefer not interacting with the 15 people who read this mess.  

John was nothing short of incredible.  In that short time I bonded with him to the extent that after everyone got whacked at Atari I never made a professional move without his counsel.  His reputation is such that anybody who ever worked for or with him sing his praises.  Find someone who worked at Polaroid, or Atari, or Titleist, or Srixon, and they'll open the flood gates of their personal experiences.  

John and I are walking very parallel paths.  Diabetes?  Check.  Mourning for career taken away before he wanted?  Check.  Depression?  Check.  We spend a lot of time visiting about our challenges.   I have some stuff he doesn't have (AFib, adrenal insufficiency, etc.), and he has stuff I don't have (cancer, Parkinson's, etc.).  But while the songs are somewhat different, the lyrics are very aligned.

We have to navigate the Healthcare system and all the twists and turns it makes us go through.  We have to gather our courage and fight our fear of the unknown to face new challenges as they come up.  We both see therapists because we know we are under-prepared to deal with all this Happy Horse Shit by ourselves.  And we provide the requisite quantities of Comic Relief tied to a silly dice golf game called GoLo, which we try to play every weekday (but often can't because of doctor's appointments, therapy, and so forth).

John is a rock.  But he is also a realist who understands that the road to being "better" is fraught with land mines and setbacks.  I also have these outlooks, but it's so much easier knowing that John can tell me about how his journey is going and how I might be able to learn from the adventures he's having.  Our 20-30 minute Zoom meetings where we play GoLo are the highlight of my day.  It's therapy without the psychologist.  Cheaper, too.  

Everybody needs a Wingman.  That's why we seek out close friends, significant others, confidantes, and consiglieries.  And as Old Age begins its inexorable attack on our well-being, having someone who has the same mud on their shoes makes things almost bearable.  I highly recommend finding this person when (not if, because everybody will face this at some point) you find yourself up against it.

Thanks, John.  You are a light that helps me see the forest for the trees.  You hold a debt from me I cannot possibly repay...