Talladega Nights is one of those beautiful, meaningful epic films full of lessons you can carry on into your life each and every day. Everything I know, I learned from Ricky Bobby and Cal.
They taught me positive affirmations like, “I wake up in the morning and I piss excellence” and to aim high, “You can’t have two number ones…” “‘Cause that would be eleven.”
And they taught me to pray and to think of Jesus as a figure skater, the lead singer of Skynyrd, in a tuxedo shirt or even as a mischievous badger. And today, just before the start of a meeting, someone handed me something that rattled my cage…if there hadn’t been witnesses, I would’ve sworn it was a dream, or maybe we just ate the bad acid and were all having the same visual and auditory hallucination…but thanks to Ricky Bobby, I paused to pray “Help me, Jesus, help me, Jewish God, help me, Allah, help me Tom Cruise…” because yeah, it’s gonna take all that and then some to erase from my brain what I held in my hand. WTF!