My recovery pal Troy is holding my pain meds for me. I love his name, as I associate it with that warlike state from antiquity. Troy is tall, handsome and has a shaved head, as does his scary-pretty wife, Angie. They look like a beautiful salt and pepper set (he's light-skinned, she's dark).
I also associate his name with other things I like. One is the film "Troy," which actually wasn't that good, but it stars Brad Pitt, who's a babe. Also, one of my all-time favorite singer-songwriters (who's has a profound effect on my own songwriting), Sinead O'Connor, has a song named "Troy," which I never cared much for either, but as I'm such a fan, I gave her a pass on it. Come to think of it, she has a shaved head, too.
When I got out of rehab, I cut all my hair off. That's saying something as my long blonde curls used to get me cat-calls from passing cars, more often than not filled with hispanic guys who must like that kind of thing. It's so short that I sometimes think I should ask Troy and Angie to just shave the rest off for me, but I fear I'd look like a cancer patient, and I've got enough problems.
When I was in terrible pain the other day, refusing to take any medication so that I could "stay clean," Troy told me a curious bible story. Apparently, God had asked someone to kill one of his cows as a sacrifice. So the guy went and killed all of his best cows to show what a great guy he was.
When God came back, he said, "Why did you kill all your best cows? I only asked you for one, and it certainly didn't have to be your best!"
Confused by the meaning of this perplexing tale, Troy explained that we don't score extra points by suffering more than we have to. As I was still refusing to take any pain medication, even after the story, he bluntly asked, "Why are you killing all your best cows?"
Never one to argue with a good bible lesson, I went over and picked up a pain pill and that night felt much better. Can't say I'm much of a bible reader, but that was a fine story, indeed.
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