Transcript: If Lucy Ran a TV Network

Rob Long on how to out-psych the sting of the football always being pulled out from under

This is Rob Long with Martini Shot for The Ankler.

The Buddha teaches us that life is filled with suffering, and if you think that's a pretentious sentence, get a load of this one:

The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca teaches us that "we suffer more in imagination than in reality." Seneca's point — which he makes over and over again in his letters and essays — is that if suffering is on its way (and it is) it's a foolish waste of time and energy to fret about it ahead of time. Pain will find us all soon enough, Seneca believed, and when we anticipate it all we do is increase it, which is why I busy myself on my phone with Instagram and Twitter whenever I'm at the doctor, getting a flu shot or having my blood drawn. I don't need to see the needles and the vials and imagine how they'll feel. I'll feel them when I feel them.

For the past few days, I've been thinking deeply about pain and suffering because I have needed to go to the local Spectrum cable store to replace my old cable modem and change the billing information on my account, and what could be worse than that?

I began Monday morning by cultivating an unhealthy mental attitude. Not only did I imagine my future suffering — the lines at the Spectrum store would be long; my account would be impossible to find; I would need some obscure document or number I do not have and do not know — but I experienced rising anger and frustration at what was surely to come. By the time I arrived at the Spectrum store, at 10:07AM, I was at peak pre-irritation.

"Welcome to Spectrum, how can I help you?" asked the cheerful young person with the iPad who greeted me at the door. 

"I need to exchange this," I said, pre-infuriated, holding up my old cable modem, "and I need to change the billing on my account, and I really don't have all day for—"

"I can help you over here," said another cheerful person behind the counter.

I don't really remember what happened next — not exactly, anyway — except that I was presented with a new piece of equipment that was already registered and assigned to my account, my credit card information was updated, I was hailed with a cheery "Happy New Year" on my way out, and I found myself on the corner of Broadway and West 4th Street at about 10:16AM, mission accomplished, my chest full of unexpressed anger and my face still locked in a pre-irritated scowl, stomping home like a loaded musket.