"The Ring Of Life"

Occasionally, I find it necessary to "self-therapize" through
taking an emotional, even a psychological, detour and writing a
simile that usually assists in pulling me out of the doldrums for
renewed vigor.

If you, too, ever find yourself depressed and out of sorts,
perhaps, the below will serve as a wee bit of inspiration from a
humorous standpoint. So, enjoy...

P. S. I would greatly appreciate learning if you can see the
article's connection with life through several elements within it.
_____________________________________________________

"The Ring Of Life"

By Kenny Love

Copyright © 2008 Kenny Love All Rights Reserved


Into The Ring Of Life, I climb as a boxing contender to face the
world champion, also known by his popular name of "Life." The
world champion has destroyed many a contender immediately
after the bell has rung to start the match. In fact, the world
champion has destroyed more than his fair share of contenders
long before the bell has even rung.

The champion stands, at least, seven feet tall while weighing in
at an impressive 375 pounds of cut solid steel and is a
formidable and imposing challenger, to be sure.

In comparison, I stand a mere six feet one (in my socks) while
weighing in at 225 pounds, depending on the number of desserts
that were available on my kitchen table for my disposal during
the past Christmas holiday season. At this point, I am wishing
that I had allowed that third slice of pecan pie and that 4th
piece of cheesecake to pass me by. Hindsight much too late.

Not surprisingly, a respectable size crowd has gathered below
in their seats around the ring to see what has been hailed as
the most mismatched bout of the 21st Century.

Some spectators have readily paid high dollar for front row
seats to see my blood spilled by the gloves of the champion
while more than a few souls sneaked in under the assumption
that ticket purchases were a waste of money, since I was
expected to be duly knocked out within three rounds.

Unbelievers!

Further serving to sabotage any level of confidence I may have
had were promotional posters presenting caricatures of my
opponent and myself, and displayed conspicuously all around
town that depicted my midget-size image being almost entirely
covered up as I lay under the champ's big black boot with its
shiny metal fastenings, struggling to breathe.

Unfortunately, I had not counted on this being an unfair match,
and only noticed so when seven more boxers, some of whom
were wearing masks and looking more like professional wrestlers,
seemingly, appeared out of nowhere, stepped into the ring and,
along with the champion Life, formed an octagon, with me as
its center point.

As some boxers are prone to do, these boxers had their names
embroidered on their boxing shorts, which were; Emotional,
Physical, Psychological, Financial, Intellectual, Operational, and
Logistical.

My boxing shorts, otherwise, were cut-off knee-length bluejeans
that, comparatively, made me look like a hick from the hills of
West Virginia (my apology to any hilly hicks from West Virginia...
God still loves you, in spite of geography).

Awestruck by how professionally attired my opponents were in
comparison to my own attire that represented my personal
state of poverty, I was, momentarily, caught off guard and
barely heard the bell ring as the champion, almost
simultaneously, blindsided me with a powerful right hook to my
left cheek.

Know those stars people claim to see when they get hit? Well,
those stars are nothing as, not only did I see stars, but I also
saw the sun, the moon, and even thought I glimpsed the Milky
Way as my legs buckled and ordered my knees to the canvas
where I took my rightful place face down on the mat.

Barely conscious of the referee's count, I, unfortunately, yet
miraculously, was able to surprisingly rise to what should have
never been another occasion before being completely counted
out (a better man would have had the courage to stay down
and, thus, eliminate further personal embarrassment, humiliation,
and shame).

Alert once again, I barely felt the wind from the champion's
attempt at an uppercut to my sweating chin that he managed
to miss as he attempted to deliver ever so voraciously with
kinetic energy supported by gritting teeth and angrily arched
eyebrows. But, I was struck in my right side by the boxer
Logistical.

In response to, and bending naturally toward the pain, allowed
my left side to be exposed and available to the boxer Financial,
who took hastily advantage of and managed to caress it solidly
with a gloved fist that is probably what Lightening feels when
she kisses Thunder the morning after.

Involuntarily straightened up from this third blow, and now
with automatically bending forward, I was facing the onslaught
of Life as he was already making a mad dash from the distant
ropes head-on in an attempt to set up, establish, and deliver
his patented haymaker.

I was fully aware that Life's world famous haymaker, whether
under normal or abnormal circumstances, generally resulted in
several weeks of unrequited vacation in the ICU of the nearest
hospital for his opponent, with any food intake being dispensed
through straws.

Whether from mindless calculation or my built-in survival instinct,
upon Life's arrival at my spot in the ring, I pivoted on the ball of
my right foot, sidestepping him with a full 360-turnaround that
included a foot-high jump that allowed me to be evenly with his
face to deliver my own pulsing steel right fist to his,
inadvertently, exposed left jaw.

To visualize my turnaround jump, one only needs to imagine a
basketball player's turnaround/fade away jump shot, and I am
of the opinion that retired Michael Jordan would be most proud
with my set-up, execution and follow through.

My inspired contact further encouraged increased momentum of
Life's already hurtling body that sent him sprawling at what had
suddenly become a 45-degree angle and directly into boxers
Physical and Operational, of which his direct impact left them
both unconscious.

Unfortunately, for me, Intellectual seemed to have calculated
the impending result ahead of time as he fluidly moved out of
the way of what was, obviously, oncoming harm.

I'm not certain, but I would not be surprised to learn that
Intellectual had previously been employed at one point in his
life as a Certified Public Accountant by the ever clever
calculating government entity affectionately known as the
Inferno Revenue Service.

The bell has now rung to start the second round, with six
opponents remaining, including Life himself. If only I can
manage to average the same number of TKOs (intentional or
unintentional) per round, I may be able to set a new world
record, even though some of the audience is now serving up
"Booh!"s toward me, as they seem disappointingly surprised to
see my still standing, and conscious, I might add.

Again, it is increasingly obvious that more than a few members
of the audience are hoping for Life to freely administer his
unique brand of injustice upon my person in the form of my own
personal KO received from him within the next couple of rounds.
And, with head and body blows that appear vehemently
authentic, I keep telling myself...

"It's only a movie...it's only a movie...it's only a movie..."
____________________________________________________

Editor's Note: Kenny Love is a radio/video promoter and media
publicist, as well as co-owner and Director of Marketing for
Eartastic Records. Get more information regarding him from his
MySpace page at http://www.myspace.com/jazzman795

"The Ring Of Life"
By Kenny Love
Copyright © 2008 Kenny Love All Rights Reserved