I spotted the following editorial while pumping Ironworks BBQ ribs 'tween plate and mouth and because Thursday is pretty much the week's end, I thought you should see.
A while back, I heard a story that will affect you: The average person lives out 75 years. Now, if you multiply 75 years times 52 weeks, you come up with 3,900 weeks of life. That’s it. That’s all the average person has. Then I thought, hell, I’m 58. Which means I have roughly 884 weekends left. Eight hundred and eighty four weeks? Damn! Talk about a wake up call.
Brothers and sisters, it seems it’s all over in the blink of an eye. So let’s be more selfish with who, or where, we spend our precious time. With 884 weekends left, I now only do things that make my heart and soul feel satisfied. I take that trip, buy that car, call that friend, tell that special someone I love them when they least expect it.
Pay attention to the really important things in life. Be the guy who tells the joke, not the recipient of the punch line. Be the predator, not the food source. Gorge yourself at that banquet of life until the only thing left on the table are crumbs. In other words, you’re an army of one. So, it’s up to you to either lead the charge with conquest on your mind... or sound the trumpets of retreat. If you’re reading this magazine, you’re already hitting the ground running. Enjoy the first issue.
Sylvester Stallone wrote this for the premier issue of his mag, Sly. Unfortunately, somebody else was already using the name and despite his weekender savvy it now looks as if his publishing honeymoon is over. Who could possibly deter the powerful and pointless Rambo Balboa you ask? Well, it seems the already existent Sly Magazine. Their enterprise is aimed at style-conscious young women with money to spend while Sylvester's brainchild focuses on fashion and lifestyle for men who believe that life begins at 40. Nice mid-life crisis, meatheads.
All that aside it still doesn't change the math! With x as your age, determine your own your life weekend remainder and then get out there and gorge while the gorging is good.
(75 - x) x 52 = # of parties you will ultimately be able to attend
Oh, and you might lay off the BBQ ribs if you'd prefer some extra parties. All joking aside, I admit I'm partial to, "Be the guy who tells the joke, not the recipient of the punch line." Thanks for the advice, Sylvester. I hear your pain.