Pop – missed your birthday but I had thought about getting you a nice Merlot or Cabernet; however, all I have to offer is a dusty 35 year old bottle of TJ Swan Mellow Days. Instead I offer this poem I found by Zak Fick. Happy Birthday Pop.
Chasing Perfection by Zak Fick
If practice makes perfect
And nobody's perfect,
Does this instill, if you will
That no matter how much time you fill,
Practicing, and working to improve your game
That everything you do won't be the same?
Is everything we do just intelligent?
Is it pointless, worthless, or even irrelevant?
Well if it is so, and i hope that it's not,
Please excuse me while i give all that i got,
Whether its working off the dribble,
Or my fade-away shot,
I will go and chase perfection,
Even if I can't achieve,
It's all about the path you chase
And this i do believe.
So even if i can't,
Be perfect at this game,
I will do my best, to be the best
In this I find no shame,
Because to live and try is worth the cost
Of getting stronger through a loss
And living life, no effort giving
Is in fact, in no way, living
I would rather try and fall, and fail
Then opportunity to prevail
Be set on a boat, and sail
Into the abyss so cold and stale,
So grab the ball, pick up your feet
Lift up your arms, and bring the heat
Perfection's impossible to embrace
But you'll get stronger when you chase
So get up on your man and guard,
And practice, practice, practice hard.
Suicide does not end the chances of life getting worse; it only eliminates the possibility of life ever getting better.