This weekend is the Petanque tournament, and fair warning, I plan on bringing my A-game. I’ve been doing push ups all morning. Every half an hour or so I’ll drop and give me 6. I’m not the best personal trainer, but no pain, no pain. That’s my motto.
If you want to know more about me, I’m the kind of guy that likes to take short walks on the beach followed by a nice piggy-back ride to the car. Sure, it’s not a very smooth ride, but a friend once told me we only have so many miles in our bodies. I figure if I’m able to take some off by riding you, we’re helping each other. I keep the miles down and you get to exercise. Giving isn’t easy, but that’s who I am.
It also saves my energy for Petanque, a game in which you roll a larger steel ball at a smaller wooden ball (known as the “jack ball” or “something French I can’t remember but I’m not looking it up, and even if I knew I don’t like using French words”).
Like many games, it has rules, a ball, a point system, a court, participants… all the things that make a good game and bring out my competitive fire. Not only that, there’s a huge trophy with a plaque that has the winner’s name engraved on it, immortalizing that year’s champion. So you see, this isn’t just about winning. It’s about becoming immortal, something I’ve always wanted to try.
I’m hesitant because every movie I see about immortals they are always whining about it. “Wah wah I can’t die, punished to walk the earth for eternity, lost my love because she got old and I still look awesome…” It goes on and on. My fear is that it’s one of those things that sounds great but gets super boring after a couple of hundred years. I’m just saying I don’t want to be a 250 year old whiny baby. I think that’s fair.
I’d like to think I would be the immortal that broke the mold. I’d like to believe at 500 or so I’d be like, “I’m going to learn to wind surf today” or “I’m finally going to order Rosetta Stone and learn Spanish.” I want to be the immortal who says, “This living forever thing is all right.”
I know what you’re asking. “But Mayo, what if you had to consume the blood of others to perpetuate your own immortality?” And I would say, “Yeah I’m okay with that,” and here’s why.
I like steak and I imagine it can’t be too much different. Also, I would base my diet on whether or not you were a jerk. I would call you “vampire jerky” and puns always make me hungry. There’s also the part where my conscience would be eased because you were a jerk, but mainly it’s the pun thing.
It would start when we were hanging out and I determined you are mean. Then I would say under my breath, “vmpire jrky sez wut?” Then you would say “what?” and I would laugh my ass off. This is what I’m talking about when I say it could be fun if you make it that way.
Clearly there is much more on the line here than the game. Immortality is at stake, so don’t be surprised if someone strikes you in the knee with a lead pipe. If that happens, I had nothing to do with it. I’m just saying people should look out for that sort of thing.