Marty is the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" He was a natural motivater. If an employee was having a bad day, Marty was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Marty and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Marty replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Marty, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.'
"I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to turn it into a learning experience. I choose to turn it into a learning experience. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice.""Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes, it is." Marty said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is how you live life." I reflected on what Marty said. Soon thereafter, I left the post office to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it.
Several years later, I heard that Marty was involved in a serious accident, falling some 50 feet while repairing a billboard. After twelve hours of surgery and months of intensive care, Marty was released from the hospital with the lower half of his left leg amputated and limited movement in his right arm. I saw Marty about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied. "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Would you like to see my jellied nub?"
I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the accident took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was the well-being of my soon to be born daughter," Marty replied. "Then, as I lay on the ground, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live."
"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked.
Marty continued, "The EMTs were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man." I knew I needed to take action."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Well there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Michael. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. "Yes, I replied." The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Walker, Texas Ranger reruns!'" Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead!"
"As they slapped their knees, doubled over, and patted me on my half-shredded shoulder, I noticed the surgeon's laugh sounded slightly sinister. As he leaned forward to shine his tiny flashlight in my eyes, he whispered to me: 'Ever been rabbit hunting?' As my dilated pupil took note of his twitching brow, I remembered that I had two choices: I could question his unusual turn of character, or I could keep from jumping to conclusions… perhaps he was about to 'make a funny' as I had just done.
"I chose to keep from jumping to conclusions, and heard him out as he furthered in his soft tone: 'When you go rabbit hunting at night, you shine a flashlight in their eyes to stun 'em… and when you do that, you see the light pass right through there eyes: no reflection! Know why?' "With growing trepidation and an increasing loss of blood, I gurgled 'Why?'
"The surgeon got nose to nose with me and said 'Cuz they got no soul!'
"I asked the surgeon why he told me that, and he said: 'As I shine this light in your eyes, I see that you, like a rabbit, have no soul. I done suspected it when you blasphemed Chuck Norris, king of American pop culture!'
"I looked around. Not one of the assistants or orderlies picked up on the odd comment he made. He put his lips to my ears and whispered 'Death will be slow, Marty….. and quite excruciating.'
"I remembered then that I had two choices: I could live, or I could die. Oddly, a third choice entered my mind: I could panic. I chose to panic.
"'GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, THIS MOTHERFUCKING BUTCHER IS CRAZY!' Though every fiber burned with sheer pain from the fall, I waved every bloody limb, each exposed bone, every flap of hanging skin in all directions, anything to get me away from this freak. The doctor stayed calm, informing his orderlies 'Shock is setting in; it is imperative that you hold him down, so that I may sedate him, and save his life!'
"I wondered if my two choices were really choices anymore. After the needle poked me and the sedative began taking effect, my mind calmed just enough to make another choice. I looked past the pizza cutter nearing my face (even the assistants looked at each other quizzically at the surgeon's choice of tools) and into the heavens and pleaded 'God, I'm not a praying man, but…. GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, THIS MOTHERFUCKER'S CRAZY!'
"And then a miraculous thing happened! A gentle light beamed before me, and all I could see was the vague holy image look upon me and say: 'Marty, I'm processing a simultaneous healing of three lepers in Molokai, which is an exhausting miracle, so you're going to have to plea to a different entity.'
"Baffled but terrified, I cried 'Can't the lepers wait just a little bit longer, PLEASE?'
"The Lord looked a tad exasperated and winced 'Time is just as imperative in their case, and if you think I'm going to choose between a neglected people who have endured years of intense pain and some smiley-face twit who banters in a sing-songy voice about how 'I can choose this, I can choose that, yappa-yappa-yappa, now will you please, go cry to some entity with time on his hands?'
'KRISHNA! GET ME THE F…..' but The Lord halted my cry: 'Try another God, Marty. Krishna's in Cambodia rescuing a duck from the frying pan of some worthless descendent of Pol-Pot. Krishna's a really cool-cat , but does he have a surprise for that genocidal asshole.'
"'A duck? I'm second banana to a duck?'
"'Oh, well, if you think you're so above our feathered friends, why don't you plead to some brainiac Greek God who thinks humans are just so cool! Okay, look, I've got a miracle to perform, good night and good luck!'
"As the pizza cutter began to gig a slit across my forehead, I remembered that I had two choices in high school: English Literature or Greek Literature. Why the hell did I have to choose English Lit? I don't know one Greek God from the next!' Blood trickled in and around my eyes, and the sprinkling of salt granules into the fresh wound burned like crazy. "I couldn't think of two choices. I couldn't even come up with one! Jacob Marley? No…. Ghost of Canterville? No…. who can save me????????"
"A notion crossed my mind. I thought of a higher power, although I suspected it might be purely fictional. Yet I remembered the prayer word for word. Hell, if I was going to go down, I'd go down swingin'!
"So as I felt the saw penetrate my the bone in my leg, I squeezed my eyes shut, and bellowed 'MERLIN, YOU AWESOME WIZARD DUDE, I SUMMON THEE!' and I screamed this humble but passionate prayer: ANAIL NATHRACH!' and this blast of stars danced over me! 'ORTH' BHAIS'S BETHAD!' and there, hovering above me, floated Merlin himself, dressed exactly as he was in John Boorman's way-rad Excalibur movie! So I continued: 'DO CHEL DENMHA!'
"All my pain suddenly vanished, and the surgeon and nurses, though they themselves couldn't see The Merlin, all noticed this mysterious fog creeping into the room, curling and winding it's way like an old mountain road, with one destination, and one destination only: THE SURGEON'S HEART!
"As the fog tore through the surgeon's ribcage, split his chest in two, and began drinking all his blood, the sedation told me I had two choices: I could cower in awe, or cackle like a madman. Since the sight of the surgeon shrieking as his intestine exited his belly and began strangling him seemed so funny, I chose to cackle like a madman, clapping my skinless hands together and kicking my bloody stump in the air. The interns were in a hypnotic trance, unaware of the terrible fate their mentor was suffering.
"It was at that moment I looked upon Merlin and realized that, while he was dressed just like Merlin in Excalibur, his face had an altogether different appearance: bushier eyebrows and a more pronounced nose. I pointed vaguely in his direction, and slobbered "Merlin, you're….you're….you're…… Johnny Legend???'
"He looked upon me and announced: 'Johnny Legend, or Merlin if yer preferrin'! I'm here, not queer, and fresh out of beer!'
"The surgeon's eyes bulged as he pleaded with Merlin to end his wretched life. My higher power looked at his Timex watch. 'Fifteen more torturous minutes before I zap you into Hades, you moron. I'd normally make it a painless five, but: CHUCK NORRIS? Couldn't you defend a real icon like Dennis Ray Steckler, Gypsy Boots or Doris Wishman?'
"Johnny Legend as Merlin then chanted 'MAH-NA-MAH-NA-DA-DADA-DA!' And out of nowhere appeared Dr. Jerry Graham, who brought the assistants out of their trance, and together they performed the necessary surgery. Afterwards, Doc and the assistants got plowed at The Red Fox Inn. I just popped painkillers and kept on cackling like a fucking magpie."
Marty lived, thanks to the skill of The Good Doctor, but also because of his amazing attitude: instead of pitying himself for losing one of his lower limbs, he carved a peg leg, invested in a Long John Silver costume, and chopped off his right hand so he could have a hook instead. He hobbles everywhere filled with merriment, beginning each sentence with "ARRRGH!" and addressing everybody as "Scurvy Dog!"
I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, and a pirate costume, is everything.
"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow brings no sorrow, just Flamenco played by Charo! 'Each day has enough troubles cured by tiny, tiny bubbles,' sings Don Ho." ---Merlin 6:34