he will sometimes send me these sweet and fluffy little messages that make you want to retch because of how sweet it is. A fine example being this one, about putting things in perspective;
"When 24 hours in a day are not enough; remember
THE MAYONNAISE JAR AND 2 GLASSES OF WINE:
A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in
front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very
large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf
He then asked the students if the jar was full.
They agreed that it was.
The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the
jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas
between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was
They agreed it was.
The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if
jar was full.
The students responded with a unanimous "yes."
The professor then produced two glasses of wine from under the table
poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty
space between the sand. The students laughed.
"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to
recognise that this jar represents your life.
The golf balls are the important things - faith, family, children,
health, friends, and favourite passions -- things that if everything
was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, house, and
The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.
"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no
room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you
spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have
room for the things that are important to you.
So.........Pay attention to the things that are critical to your
Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your
partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to
clean the house and fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls
first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities.
The rest is just sand."
One of the students raised her hand and enquired what the wine
represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to
show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always
for a couple of glasses of wine with a friend."
OK. All well and good. But I think I'd have ended the story with the professor pouring more things into the
mayonnaise jar. Like this...
"The professor then pulled out his hip flask full of gin and started poring the contents into the jar. The students began looking at each other with slight concern. "See, and you can have some gin in there as well. Because everyone likes a bit of gin don't they? And..and...and sometimes wine just isn't enough." As the bell rang the students got up to leave, convinced that the lesson was over. But the professor was determined to try to place more things into the jar, he was suddenly gripped by a ferocity. He was on a mission. He was a zealot, a madman.
As the professor brought out some beers from behind the lectern and started dousing the jar, obviously over-filled, with more and more alcohol. It was then that some students, those closest to him, could see how red his face was, how bulging his eyes. "And it can't stop. Not there. NOT EVER. Because it NEVER STOPS!"-he was yelling now, oblivious to the fear that seemed to be filling the room like a low rumble, the beginnings of a storm. "It NEVER STOPS!"
"Professor maybe you should-"
"I should WHAT motherfucker?" he roared. "What the fuck would you FREAKS know? HUH? WHAT? What would you fuckers know about anything!?!"
Several of the more burly students, linebackers for the Varsity team, slowly inched towards the professor to calm him down. But there was no calming to be done. He pulled out a handgun and shot into the ceiling as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Like it was swatting a fly or parting his hair. The professor then screamed obscenities as he tried to pour more and more things into the jar. Rum, brandy, Jagermeister, heroin. The jar eventually toppled over the table, scattering its contents-golf balls, pebbles, sand and alcohol-all over the floor. Several of the students started crying, confused and hurt at the rage of their teacher, their mentor. The professor then lay on the ground in foetal position mumbling "It's over. It's all over. It's over." as if his chanting alone would keep his darkness at bay."