A Moment Of Pure Awesome

I talk a lot on ZFS! about how I'm awesome, and how I'm just so great, and how I'm, out of everyone on the planet, easily in the top five for being too cool for school. At this point, the fantastic-y goodness that is me has become common knowledge amongst... well... everyone, I guess. Maybe the population at large isn't specifically aware of my glory, but I think that they've at the very least got a vague notion that, somewhere out there, there's a chubby dude who has a blog that possesses the power to change the world.

So yes, I rule; that's a given. But I've got to be honest with you... Sometimes, the C-dog has moments of self-doubt. I know, I know... how is that possible? For someone like me, who's got the world on a string and a song in his heart (and it's the best song you've ever heard, dontchaknow), how can there ever be a time when the sun isn't shining? It's hard to fathom, but it's true.

Sometimes, I just don't feel that awesome. Maybe I'm feeling a bit too chubby. Maybe I'm bummed because I'm still in a deep, dark financial hole. Maybe I've had a lot to drink for a few days in a row and I've got that rotten, sick feeling in my guts that's germane to extended periods of alcohol abuse. This feeling doesn't happen often, but when it does, it totally sucks; not just for me, but for the entire world. As my emotional state goes, so goes the nation. As it were. A blue C-dog equals a blue world and, when that happens, we run the very real risk of war, mass suicides, a collective loss of appetite and, most horrifying, the release of a new album from Nickelback.

Fortunately for everyone, there are cosmic forces at work. In an effort to keep the world on an even keel, the Powers That Be are always there to catch me when I fall. How do they do this, you might ask? Well I'll tell you... they provide me with a moment of such pure, white-hot awesomeness that I can't help but realize that I'm the axis around which the Earth spins. It's really quite thoughtful of them.

Let me give you an example of what I'm talking about, so you can better understand the way that the universe is connected. To me.

A Moment Of Pure Awesome

So, last night, Girlfriend and I were taking a walk in our neighborhood, en route to our favorite cupcake shop to purchase some treats to eat during the series premiere of the greatest television show of all time, Rock Of Love with Bret Michaels. As we're walking, we pass a grocery store, outside of which is one of those claw games full of prizes, much like the one in the picture up top (you were wondering what the hell that had to do with anything, weren't you). There was only one kind of prize inside the machine; instead of the usual variety of junky stuffed animals and shoddy toys, there were only a large selection of neon-hued, squishy rubber balls, each about the size of a grapefruit and covered in longish tendrils. They looked sort of like the larger, thicker cousins of the Koosh.

Girlfriend spots them as we walk by and she says, half-kidding, "Hey, win me one of those."

A calm washes over me. All the sounds of the street tune out as I lock eyes on the machine. It glows brightly, taunting me. I place my hand in my pocket and find that, yes, I've got the required change to take a go at this game of skill... but only enough for one shot. One chance to win my girl a prize and, thus, prove my worthiness as a mate, as a man, as a provider of all things plastic-y and cheap. I remove the quarters from my pocket and I stride up to the game, my arms bulging with muscles and my brow beaded with sweat. I drop in the coins and suddenly, like a gladiator facing down a tiger, the battle is on.

With deft hands, I maneuver the claw this way and that, lining it up over the top of a yellow ball. Time is ticking down. My aim is not quite right, so I adjust again. A crowd of people have gathered around us, many of them chanting, "C-dog, Bomaye! C-dog, Bomaye!!!" The city of Brooklyn, the state of New York, the entire East Coast, and most of the United States (the good parts) hold their collective breath.

I drop the claw.

It lands squarely on the yellow ball, it's fingers closing, gripping it tight. It lifts the ball up as the crowd hoists me in the air. It moves the ball over and drops it down the chute. Everyone is cheering and fireworks are exploding and Girlfriend looks at me with an expression that says, "You are the greatest man I have ever known. Thank you, C-dog, for being you."

I defeated the claw game. In one try. Do you believe in miracles?

I hand her the prize and we link arms. Off we head, to cupcakes, to our apartment, to trashy reality TV, secure in the knowledge that I am... yes... truly, truly awesome.

As if there was really ever any doubt.