Bad Behavior on the Road
Friday, March 23, 2007
I was recently in Eastern Europe, in a city where, basically, anything goes. And I mean anything. You can go to after hours clubs and watch octogenarians "dance" with animals, go to a special club to sample finest Hawaiin, er, export, etc, etc.
Now, I'm no stranger to business trips where you start with the $70/bottle wine and end up drinking 30 quid shots of armangac older than your father, but this was something very different.
Perhaps I just didn't notice it when I was younger (first in the pool syndrome?) but it really struck me at this time in my life.
I staggered back to my room after one of those Indonesian 9 course meals to find pictures of my children at the fair with my in-laws.
I was instantly sober, remembering the behavior or some of my colleagues. No, not the booze. Not the (legal here) drugs. Not the career limiting "jokes" that were flying around. The girls.
All I'm saying, as I sit here looking at pictures of my son and daughter riding the bumper cars 3,000 miles away, is that if you're going to do something so potentially dangerous, it better be world-class, cerebellum exploding, married-at-17, absolutely the best thing you've ever had.
Else you'll lose the most important thing you'll ever know and you won't even have a pitiful excuse.
Now, I'm no stranger to business trips where you start with the $70/bottle wine and end up drinking 30 quid shots of armangac older than your father, but this was something very different.
Perhaps I just didn't notice it when I was younger (first in the pool syndrome?) but it really struck me at this time in my life.
I staggered back to my room after one of those Indonesian 9 course meals to find pictures of my children at the fair with my in-laws.
I was instantly sober, remembering the behavior or some of my colleagues. No, not the booze. Not the (legal here) drugs. Not the career limiting "jokes" that were flying around. The girls.
All I'm saying, as I sit here looking at pictures of my son and daughter riding the bumper cars 3,000 miles away, is that if you're going to do something so potentially dangerous, it better be world-class, cerebellum exploding, married-at-17, absolutely the best thing you've ever had.
Else you'll lose the most important thing you'll ever know and you won't even have a pitiful excuse.
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