The shots you don’t take
Wayne Gretzky, hockey hall-of-famer with an asymmetrical face, once said, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
I used that inspirational quote to get the entire family out into the yard 2 Sundays ago to watch the SpaceX launch at 9:16 p.m.
“Guys, you can’t see it if you don’t come outside and look up.”
We stood around in 50 degrees and looked up in a southeasterly direction. We laughed and chatted as we stared at the sky. We stood there long past 9:16. We saw nothing.
So you miss a certain percentage of the shots you DO take, too. I was disappointed that night in how many people saw the launch that were not in my backyard. When I bemoaned our situation to Todd, he said, “Missy, when was the last time all 6 of us were together in the backyard looking up at the stars?” And then I realized that we hadn’t scored a traditional goal, but we had scored nonetheless.
These are the moments I’m trying to snapshot–emblazon like a woodburned plaque–into my mind. I don’t want to forget. Because in 212 days, my oldest son will graduate high school and begin his tentative journey into adulthood. And while he is a quiet, introverted kid who keeps to himself a lot anyway, the dynamic of our family will change. It changed a good bit from 2001 through 2008 as we added kid after kid and adjusted to the drama in our growing family. It changed again as the 2 boys inched toward adolescence and again when Andrew moved into his own space downstairs and the boys learned to love living in rooms by themselves.
But then it sort of stabilized inside our house, with the changes coming from without. My mother declined and then died. My dad remarried. My dad and his wife suffered their own health scares. The outside was brittle and ever changing. The inside stayed the same.
I’ve been savoring and trying to live by the “take your shots” and “do the next right thing” mentality, hoping I’ll be ready when my boy moves out.
Hoping I’ll be ready for whatever.
In the meantime, I’ve been reading the books leftover on my bookshelf because I bet my friend, Melissa, that I could indeed finish all of my other impulse buys before my next impulse buy. Her response was to gladly accept my terms, remarking, “Easiest $10 I’ll ever make.”
Sigh. It would be easier to pay her $10 and move on to the list I have going on my phone of the books I will soon buy. She even baited me by handing me a Barnes and Noble Gift card for my birthday. I am persisting and trudging on through some pretty rough 2019 choices. Because it’s the next right thing. And because I hate losing.
In my attempt to read what was already in front of me, I picked up the latest issue of my Writer’s Digest magazine and read the cover article about an author named Dani Shapiro. She’s written a memoir called Inheritance that I very much intend to buy. Someday. And she has an author website at danishapiro.com. After listening to her podcast and visiting her website, it occurred to me: Every author has a website. Their name. Their website. It’s practically a requirement that an author build a social media presence and get a website. Now to be fair, I’m not an author. But I want to be. Someday. Maybe about the time I’m allowed to buy a new book.
Because I’m a forward thinking wannabe, I attempted to secure the domain name missysnapp.com. No one is named Missy Snapp (other than me), so imagine my shock when I discovered the domain name was already taken. Who would want want missysnapp.com? What in the world.
Todd looked it up but couldn’t tell who owned it. It was privately registered. The other Missy Snapp was a guarded person. So we decided it was probably worth paying a broker service to try to get the site for ourselves. It was $69.99. On top of that initial cost, I had to choose my minimum and maximum offers for the domain purchase. I was already in deeper than I wanted to be. I had tried to back out of the broker service and it was too late. Non-refundable. The best they could do for me was to offer me negotiating tips. Their top pro tip was that most sites sell for between $500-$5000. So, bid accordingly. Yeah. That’s a fat no. This is missysnapp.com. let’s keep it in perspective. So I offered $30 in the low range and $50 as my max.
And then I waited.
I didn’t think much more about it until Friday morning when a phone call came in from Phoenix, AZ. I was 90% certain it was a recorded woman offering to help secure a new warranty for my van and I answered in a fairly snarky tone. I caught the fella off guard.
“Oh, hello, may I speak to Missy Snapp?”
“That’s me,” I replied, knowing it couldn’t be a solicitation if they knew me by Missy.
“Uh, hi, this is Brett from GoDaddy Broker Services and you were trying to buy the site Missysnapp.com, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right,” I answered. “Hi.”
“Ok, hi,” he said. “I’ve done some research into this site and it looks like it’s registered to a Todd Snapp who lives at your same address.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “Are you serious?”
He was. Quite serious.
“So you are telling me that I paid you $70 to buy me a site I already own?”
“Well, that’s actually why I’m calling. I’m refunding $69.99 back to your account. We decided not to call Mr. Snapp and get in the middle of all that.”
“I appreciate that, Brett,” I said. And at that point, we said an awkward goodbye and I hung up.
It had been a rough morning, getting the kids off to school. That morning deserves it’s own post but won’t get it because many persons would be harmed in the telling of that story. The broker’s news was a welcome wade into the ludicrous pool and I feel safer in a world where there is only one of me. Todd had no memory of purchasing the site and no idea why he did so privately. Maybe just so we could have fun buying it twice. And get some free “y’all should really talk more” counseling from GoDaddy.
As things stand now–this moment–I’ve misplaced the book I was 20 pages from finishing, I’m waiting for my $69.99 refund, and I’m dreaming big dreams for the future of that website.
And I’m thinking: In a world where you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, sometimes you take the same shot twice.