Gatlin: The Parable of the Broken Match Stick.
This is one of those many conversations that happened a long time ago in a place far, far away. Not quite in another galaxy, but pretty close.
It was towards the end of a rather long lunch and it was just the two of us sitting there with nothing much to say and yet there was everything to say.
“Well Gatlin, how are you?” There was a silence so I postured again “How are you really?” There was a longer silence and then, because the pub was pretty well empty, the ugly truth came reeling, stumbling out.
There was a heavy catalogue of troubles which in and of themselves were not significant or insurmountable, but having accumulated over time were now completely overwhelming. All the little things had piled on top of each other and now, in his own words, Gatlin was like a broken matchstick.
There was a time when Gatlin was fiery, passionate and effervescent with his enthusiasm. Gatlin’s entrance into a room lit up the atmosphere with warmth and joy. People were attracted to my colleague.
Now, however, Gatlin’s description was entirely accurate. You can’t light a fire with a broken matchstick. It’s good for … well it’s good for nothing and should be flicked away along with the dead batteries and shaggy toothbrushes.
I often wondered what became of Gatlin. I steered my friend towards their GP and last I heard Gatlin was OK. But that last report was a couple of decades ago.
I think of Gatlin every R U OK day. I think what might have happened if I had not asked ‘How are you really?’ I am hopeful that Gatlin is OK and grateful that Gatlin’s example warns me not to finish up as a broken matchstick.