A Spider’s Got To Know His Limitations
ABOUT TEN SECONDS AGO a perfect example of Ambition and Confidence played out right in front of me. I was sitting here quietly sipping on my coffee when before my droopy eyes a teeny tiny spider no bigger than…than…than what you see in the picture of it next to my pen appeared. It was dangling from a silken thread.
This spider had seen me sitting here and thought, “I can take him,” and he lowered himself down from the ceiling.
Of course he was wrong and as soon as he landed on my table…I whacked him.
His eyes were bigger than his stomach by a factor of (X²³¹º=E²). His math was faulty, but his confidence and ambition were first rate.
For that I salute you little spider. Little late spider.
I’m sure that this spider was a male. A female spider would not have dropped down right in front of me, almost daring me to whack it. No. She would have set up a distraction and then come at me from behind.
Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.
(Musical Interlude – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9dt8maD3FXE)
It’s OK. There are no spiders creeping up behind me. There is no sense in being overconfident, right?
That little spider had ambition. It saw something that it wanted (me) and made a valiant, if fatal, attempt to get it. It was like he had read every self-help book out there. He also must have spent time watching a lot of Tony Robbins videos. A few Chuck Norris tapes might have served him better, but – who am I to advise a spider on such things.
Having a goal in life, be it large or small, is a good thing, a vital thing even, and having the confidence to go after that goal can expand your world – or end it if you don’t use your head and realize that going after someone a gazillion times your size is just plain stupid. Maybe the spider skipped that chapter in the book – the one that he’d ordered from the infomercial at 3:00 AM while hanging from the ceiling.
That itsy bitsy spider landed right in front of me, courageous little arachnid, and looked me in the eye. I could almost see him grin with a look on his tiny face that fairly shouted, “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Or maybe something like that. I don’t know. Like I said, his face was quite small and I may have misinterpreted it a bit. I guess we’ll never know will we?
I behaved in a perfectly human way. I don’t react well when something with considerably more functional legs than me drops in on my morning coffee. Just ask anybody. First thing in the morning I don’t like surprises and if the surprise involves having a spider drop in front of my post-operative eyeballs…things may not go well.
What more can I say? That little guy showed me what he was made of – quite literally after I smacked him – and I have nothing but post-mortal admiration for him, but his choice of confrontation methodology at 7 AM lacked subtlety to say the least. So it goes. So it went.
He dangled…he landed…I mangled. End of story.