True story:
My friend Bob was an amazing character, musician, shaman, mentor, teacher, psychologist and a close friend. He was always trying to outdo himself.
One Christmas he stood outside of our house with his trumpet, unannounced. We could hear him playing Christmas carols. We opened the door and he marched in improvising jazz riffs based on traditional Christmas music. He marched up the stairs without saying a word and kept playing. He stayed for a few minutes trumpet to his lips, making sweet sounds.
He then marched down the back stairs, still playing, and left. We could hear the sounds of the trumpet in the distance as he walked home through the woods. That was Bob. Always making simple events, incredible. You get the picture.
One Easter Morning, he hopped in my room, wearing a bunny suit. He threw a party invitation on my bed, and hopped away.
The invitation stated, we were invited to his house, for an Easter Brunch. After breakfast we were going to play Russian Omelette.
“Russian Omelette,” I thought, “what’s that?”
After an incredible gourmet brunch, Bob explained it was time to play the game.
He produced a carton of eggs and opened it as he explained: “Russian Omelette is very similar to Russian Roulette. Instead of using a gun, we are going to use eggs.”
Everyone around the table was speechless.
“All of the eggs in this carton are hard boiled, except one. One of the eggs is raw. We will pass this carton around the table. When the carton is in front of you, you will place an egg on top of your head and then smash it down with your hand. ”
The carton of eggs was passed around. There was tension and dread as each person in turn took an egg and smashed it down on their head.
Hard boiled egg after hard boiled egg was smashed on each head.
Fiinally, there was one egg left and the egg carton was placed in front of one person: me.
I hesitantly placed the egg on top of my head. I was sweating. I was nervous. I didn’t want to get egg all over my face.
Before I could react, someone hit my hand pressing the egg with great force, then…
nothing happened.
All the eggs were hardboiled. Bob had scammed us.
I learned an important lesson in life that day. Sometimes the anticiaption of dread can be worse than the actual event you are dreading. And sometimes, the anticipation of something great can be better than actually getting it. How true.
Now every Easter, I reflect on on Bob and our memorable game of Russian Omelette. And I remember the lesson I learned.
Thanks Bob. Thanks for a wonderful lesson in life. I miss you.
Albert Grande
P.S. I just ordered a new batch of business cards. Get your, too:
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