Hands Where I Can See 'em.

Surrender: To give up possession of; to yield; to resign.
Capitulate: To end all resistance; to give up; to go along with or comply. 

Today I have been sober for 30 years.  That would be alcohol AND drug free sober.  I actually haven't had a drink for an additional six months but I still managed to convince myself that a little non-addictive marijuana wouldn't be a bad idea until I realized it was a very bad idea.  In many circles this is known as the Marijuana Maintenance Plan, The Seaweed Plan.

I've been sober for almost half of my life.  That's some symmetry.

SuperK strolled in last night and said: "Anyway . . . what makes YOU think you can get away with no pain?  You've been living this charmed life and now you're mildly hobbled and THIS is the reaction?"

What can I tell you?  There is intellect and there is emotion - all the reasoning in the world can't overcome a powerful emotional reaction.  It's like trying to explain to a little child that there is, in fact, no monster under the bed.  It's difficult to assure the child that there is absolutely no chance that there could possibly be some kind of monster under the bed in the near future.

A drunk is wandering along the top of a cliff when he stumbles over the edge and begins plummeting toward certain death on the rocks below.  Miraculously he grabs onto a small shrubbery sticking out of the cliff face and hangs there perilously.  He begins yelling for help.

"I can help you my son." A booming voice.

"Who's there?" asks the drunk.  "Who is that?"

"It's god, and I can save you, but first you have to let go of the branch."

The drunk takes a minute to ponder this turn of events.  

"Is there anyone else up there?"

We don't live in a surrendering kind of society.  We hold onto this ideal that if we can keep on persevering long enough, heroically pounding toward the goal line or surmounting the heavily fortified hill under withering machine gun fire then we'll Get What We Want.  We don't celebrate folks who say: "Eh, I'm runner-up.  That's pretty good.  I'm going to have a Popsicle." The camera never pans back down the hill to show all the bodies piled up, cut down in the hailstorm of bullets.  No, we look at the one guy who made it all the way up.

I'll tell you this: god has a HUGE machine gun.  God has the best ordnance.

Boxing with god is not a good idea - god has longer arms than you do.

Have you ever seen that movie: "Knute Rockne - Pretty Good Coach?"  The movie starts with a slow pan around his office which is festooned with pennants and banners and trophies celebrating all of his second place finishes.  The big denouement, the final scene, shows Knute running out onto the field, 1 minute left in the game, the opposing team driving for the go-ahead score . . . He gathers his troops around, thrusts his fist into the air, and shouts: "OK, men, let's go out there and surrender!"

I assume that eventually I'll give in here.