*Cue Micheal Jackson’s “PYT – Pretty Young Thing”*
There’s this girl I know. I’d say she’s firey. Long luscious hair, bright smile, legs for days. *Note to self: this is not a love story*
Right, well, anyways… this girl I know? She’s pretty much my hero. Her name is Sam Girard.
The dictionary defines a hero as being “someone who is of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his/her brave deeds and noble qualities.” So do I picture Sam as some sort of Xena warrior princess, who is known for her distinguished courage and brave deeds? Well, no. Not exactly. I see Sam as more of a Jocelyn figure (from A Knight’s Tale) – a sassy, grounded, playful woman, who laughs at herself and dances like a flame.
Sam is my hero for two reasons. One – I genuinely admire her passion for life. And two – she reminds me to let go and laugh at myself.
If life was a dance party, I would want Sam to be my dim-witted older brother so that we could sandwich dance a stranger together– A Night at the Roxbury.
If life was all about cats, I’d want Sam to be riding shotgun in my car. No I’m serious. She’s totally in love with her cat. I would want her cat-like expertise if the world was over-run with cats.
If life was a post-apocalyptic zombie thriller, I would want Sam to be the prime rib of my travelling buffet. (Zombie Land Rule for Living #6: Travel in a Group: The best way to increase your odds of survival when travelling in a zombie outbreak is to make sure you’re a traveling buffet. Going it alone gives the zombies no choices but to eat you. Going it with the old man with the limp, the little kid who cant run and the middle aged woman with the plastic leg gives the zombies more options and you better odds you can run away faster than they can.)
Thank you Sam – for helping me to appreciate life. For real.
Aaaand back to dancing.