Carlo's Combined Six Stages of Life
An "R" rated philosophy of life with a pool cue
Many, many, many moons ago I took courses in philosophy, social sciences, religion, and other humanities along with a massive barrage of math and science classes.
As a teenager just embarking on the more explorative and emotional portion of life, I found those deep philosophical and religious principles all well and good, but I needed a simpler model for my simpler mind.
I passed the classes with top grades but my head nearly exploded. It was either philosophy or the shapely brunette in the corner that got me. I donít know which. I guess it doesn't matter.
After due introspective deliberation (and observance of life as conducted by those around me) I codified Six Stages of Life.
Six Stages of Life
Did you note the symmetry of life? The balance? The pattern? The beauty? The majesty? The irony? Are you getting horny? No interest? What stage of life fits you?
It also explains why, in stage 2 and 3, you might be willing to book last minute (therefore big dollar$) travel from Dallas to Paris for a weekend provided the probability of deed-doing with a well appointed deed-doer is anywhere above 30%. Who cares about site seeing when "The Deed" is on the radar screen? You see your sites, and Iíll see mine. What Eiffel Tower?
Pool life has a similar life cycle.
Six Stages of POOL Life
Stage 1 is obvious, you donít even know the game exists.
Stage 2 is when you start to pot a few balls and may have figured out a little bit about draw and follow shots but you never know when theyíll mysteriously appear.
"Where are you going!" screamed at whitey as it comes flying backwards on what should have been a follow shot. Stage 2-ers do a lot of table tapping to encourage the cue ball to slow down, speed up or change directions. Hey, moron, the cue ball does not read lips or sign language.
In Stage 3, you finally put it together that straight-in (as in pool, you pervert) is not always desirable and you can move the cue ball a little bit better when the angle is correct. The proper stroke makes wonderful things happen.
Stage 4 is your mature stroke. Stage 4 is as good as your skill set will ever get. You might be 19 or 69 but you are as far as you are going to go. More time in the game is the only way to improve. Patience makes you a winner more and more.
In Stage 5 you start to rely upon safeties more & more and you may eventually only play 1-Pocket because the pain of jawing simple shots is hiding over in the 8 or 9 ball matches. Patterns & safe moves mean more than ever. Besides, you get more time at the table, but for shorter runs.
Stage 6 happens (for totally pool-infected players) when the Grim Reaper arrives to remove you from the planet or you start losing to Stage 2 and 3 players. Some players just hang-it-up and fade into oblivion much like an old Indian putting on his war-paint & feathers to walk into the forest to meet his spirit grizzly. Others drop pool to take up golf, pottery or religion.
Now life is a conglomeration of many truths that, when combined, make what writers like to call the "Fabric of Life." What a great phrase!
If they had selected "Cheese-cloth of life" or "GoreTex of Life" it would have lost its wonderful tone. Fabric of Life.
If we overlay the two postulates, we come up with a reasonable progression of life in a context of the pool/social climate.
Carloís Combined Six Stages of Life
Stage 2 players will do almost anything to improve the frequency of scoring. Any game, regardless of how insane, is fair game as long as it is easy to score. Set up six hangers and see if you can get them down in under 6 shots. Whooo Hooo! Score, score, score! Just like rabbits. Often players at this level play games all by themselves. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Stage 3 above clearly shows why these players of the game are much more likely to welch on debts. What-the-heck, they donít try to pay their regular bills, why should they burden themselves paying off pool debts?
Stage 4 becomes obvious when your concentration on the game is so high that you become oblivious to the wonderful prance of a spirited young waitress or patron so you can make this delicate position and slide the cue ball to some short side shape.
Now even in your prime you didnít have any kind of snowballís chance with her but that is NO reason to tune out one of the visual pleasures of life. The shot isnít going anywhere. Itíll wait for your attention, be it now or in a minute after your painful sigh of never-to-be.
Stage 5 is when you start playing 1-pocket, not because it sharpens your speed control and table logic but because you get consistent time at the table, and donít have to sit down (and get back up) between opponents runs. You can rely more heavily on game-smarts and speed control instead of shot making abilities. In 1-P, jawing a ball may work to your advantage. In 9-ball or 14.1 it is the kiss of death.
Stage 6 is when we run out of gas. No bullets in the chambers. No zing in your zinger. No diddle in your diddler. No break in your break. Youíre out of chalk.
What happens after the Grim Reaper has spirited you off to the great beyond? Well, I have it on authority that you go before the Pool Council in the sky. IF YOU HAVE NOT BEEN A WELCHER, you get to live out the remainder of eternity somewhere between stages 3 and 4, enjoying the game and enjoying that other of life's game you cherish so well. And it is all, by definition, SAFE!
If you HAVE been a welcher, you descend into pool hell where everyone plays perfect pool. Shape is always right on. The rolls are all pure jelly. Your break is one to die for. The tables are all level. It matters not if you chalk your cue, you never miscue. You always get the wild 7 and you never get a glare from a windshield outside.
Granted there is no cold brew available but your game will be perfect. But you will be miserable for your only opponents are also WELCHERS and they will not pay their bill.
So all you WELCHERS, pay up or rot in Pool Hades below. You know who you are. I just might start naming names!
Nobody paid me any money to put these links here, I just thought they deserved it. Tell them Carlo sent you, maybe they'll buy me a beer.
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