The redeption of Boccie

Yesterday I took a bit of the old "soldiers joy" and played some boccie ball. For those of you who actually might read this there may be a few that ask "what the fuck is he doing taking morphine and lawn bowling?" What you should be asking is "what the fuck is he doing lawn bowling in the middle of January?" I guess they are both valid questions. I don't really know the answer to either question, I would guess that it has something to do with a need to be self indulgent, a complete lack of morals and general apathy. Comparatively my father, by the time he was my age, had a home, a career, and one child with another on the way. If one were to match us up man to man, he would most certainly win by most standards. You see at age thirty I am on about my fifteenth different job in the last decade, have paid for two abortions and have barely enough money in my bank account to pay the rent for my crappy basement apartment. Sounds sad I know. The fact is I don't think my dad's ever played boccie ball before, let alone had a bugged out transcendental drug induced experience while playing it. I'm not saying I have it better than he did, just maybe I was wrong to compare. We are both different men in different worlds related only by a few microscopic strands of DNA.