There was supposed to be...

Ramblings Post #422
One of the great tragedies of life is regret. In the looking back upon the road you decided to travel and imagining that another path would have been better. Or in my case, just different. I suffer no illusions that someone other than I am responsible for my circumstances. I made these choices. They weren't always good. But like everyone, I had a vision of how my life was supposed to be. And my mind, my imagination, it plays that life out for me. Not a "better" life, just different. 

PROBABLY NOT HERE. NO BACKYARD

There were supposed to be dinner parties. Yes, dinner parties, and YES, it sounds bougie. Where I would have invited over five or seven people and I would have spent hours on a Sunday cooking for them. Not during football season, of course. And we'd have drink found wines and discussed things of great importance, odd minutiae and inadvertently work through childhood trauma. There would have been light jazz or old unto ancient hip hop playing at a low volume. There would been tense moments and raucous laughter. One weekend I would have declared my house a shoe free zone and forgotten about it a few months later. After dinner, a the back patio or deck we'd have sipped whiskey, smoked cigars and engaged in despicable small talk as we watched the sky darken. Maybe a fire pit or loose lights. I wouldn't want to clean up but would have to, lest the house smell like that dinner for two days. 

I envy what might have been. I have come to envy the mundane.  

Good Memories are the stuff of Life

It’s starting to feel like good memories are getting harder to come by.

I watched the NBA Finals with my mom. I'd ridden down to take care of a few things and she sat up with me and watched the whole game, cheering on the Knicks. I was hoping Wemby would show us something, but I chose poorly. She normally calls it a night early, but that night we sat up until morning watching hoops, listening to commentators and talking it up.

I had lunch with Sporty. At a little cafe just north of Grant Park on a breezy afternoon where we just sat and enjoyed each other's company. At least I enjoyed hers, I hope she enjoyed mine. I'm terrified that one day she'll look at me and wonder why she wasted her time. But for now, it was the kind of afternoon that just hung around not wanting it to be over.

Oh, and my knee feels better. It had been a serious concern as the pain seemed to be lingering. My over active imagination had already had it amputated and me sporting a pirate peg, but some judicious heat and a resumption of some degree of exercise has cause the pain and stiffness to start to lessen. Two weeks from now, I'll need a new excuse to avoid those marathons. 

Not a great list. 

This would be the part where I "suggest" you go things, because memories are where you make them, and although my house seems to be where all my stuff, the only memories I'm creating there are related to digital quests - some of which have sat idle for years now. I am going to finish at least one of these video games, I promise this myself. I invested years ago when things were more flush, but now they just wait for the that urge to come back.

Similarly, I'm not really writing right now. Sure, the small one off or the interesting writing prompt from places that provide such, but not the novels, novellas and epic drama type things that still flood my imagination. Don't get me wrong, I still have the ideas and I definitely still jot them down. I have notes on notes, half thought out ideas on sticky pads and envelopes and whatever. But the need to sit down and just craft a complex tale is apparently a passenger in the car my urge to play video games is driving. And neither one wants to ask for directions. Or check their GPS.

Some of this ennui is the politics of the moment. We all knew it would get bad, but not...this. Blatant. Cruel. Silly. And just plain ole' disrespectful to the basic intelligence of the average human. 

Some of it coming to grips with parts of me that I’m just finding out about. I’ve always operated to my problems are my fault, but recently some conversations – about family and my own tricky internal narration, have revealed other quirks, things I couldn’t see about myself. And putting two and forty-seven together, it’s opened my eyes. And some of it is unsettling.  

Some of it is my circumstances, which teeter back and forth between hope and the unease of uncertainty. We all exist in a state of uncertainty, but lately it's been different. And as an overthinker, calculating all the possible bad outcomes - I don't really do good outcomes - has gotten exhausting.

So...what now?

First, I'm gonna have this Red Velvet cupcake. It's my birthday.

Then, as I've said before. Go do something. Life doesn't fix itself; we're not going to get out of wherever the hell this is by sitting still. So do it - whatever it is you've been plotting or putting off. I started an Etsy store. I need to figure out how to stop paying for my Shopify store. You need to go join that run club. Or start walking around your block in the morning. I need to get back to writing the novel stuff. You need to start a cooking vlog. Maybe just cook something new. Or start learning French. Or begin a Lego collection. Or try reading a book a week - even if it's just the self-help ones. Or call your brother, or sister or that auntie that you haven't seen in a minute. I should join a league of some sort. Or start one. Throw out all your expired food. Volunteer for something. Run for office. Learn to play an instrument. Take that certain someone to lunch. But go make those good memories.

Because those memories that soothe the soul are just getting harder and harder to come by.  

Where we all are...

Ramblings Post #419
May you live in interesting times. It's supposed to be an old curse.

Let's see....Cheato went to war without any kind of authorization and Congress is either too scared or bought off to do anything about it. Iran's defenses are currently decentralized with individual orders so they could continue firing their missiles and drones for 30 - 45 days no matter what. Khamenei wanted to die as he had cancer and had commented his body was failing, more he went home instead of to the secure bunker - now he's a martyr to his faith and something his followers can rally around. We've effectively abandoned our long term regional allies and the enemy has effectively closed the Straight of Hormuz, cutting off 20% of the world's oil. More interestingly we've also cut off 90% of the food supply for the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait and large parts of Saudi Arabia. They'll try to shift to the Red Sea for transport but there is no infrastructure on that side of the country so it won't be easy. Add in the inability to traverse and move oil or LNG through the Straight puts our Arab allies into a cash crunch, which affects us here aside from gas prices since the whole of the American economy is currently being financed by large investments in AI by.....our Arab allies. Who we just abandoned. 

Epstein files. 

Toss in that our military has no plan other than bomb and fire missiles, which as it turns out we're running out of because nobody realized that manufactures can't just ramp up production with a snap of their fingers. Not realizing you have to give suppliers an opportunity to plan for this makes me wonder how these yokels run businesses. Then, surprise, our leaders can't get their story straight as why we went in AND classified briefings are scaring those privy to the information. Bonus, a few loons IN COMMAND IN THE MILITARY are calling it the war the start Armageddon. That's a yikes. And, despite our official totals of minimal losses (from an administration who couldn't tell the truth if the sky was blue), non-American sources are putting the real figures in triple digits AND there was a job listing for sorting personal effects of casualties that got snatched down quick as wink.

Nobody knows what's really going on as the conservative influencers have started to flood the zone with AI slop to either encourage support or hide the damage. Oh, and to put the cherry on top - I'm constipated. 

I think that's it for now, but let's see what tomorrow brings. 

Barkeep. Whiskey. Sprite if you got it. Two cubes. Sigh.  

So, this morning...

Ramblings Post #417
There is a tendency of mine to revisit myself. To look back at my life to understand why I did what I did and how to either repeat or avoid that past outcome. This self reflection is probably something I need to do less of, as I know I am an overthinker, letting my mind wander down paths of possibilities less likely than chocolate covered BBQ chicken wings. But still...  

I spent a few hours this morning thinking I was no more. 

Let me explain. Earlier this week I read a piece of short horror fiction - it was on social media platform, maybe a thousand words or so. It chronicled a woman who doomscrolling one night found her own house listed for sale. And in trying to figure out if someone had stolen her deed, she realized that she had been unalived but that she was still just going through the motions of life. It was kind of haunting, a lil' different but nothing big. Or so I thought.  

So last night, around 4am or so I awoke with start, convinced that something had happened. That first awakening may have been part of the dream...it's complicated. In any case, I thought that the reaper had come. I had that moment in my chest where I think I'm falling, or someone is pulling me and I'm decidedly not ready to go anywhere. Left side of the bed oblivion awaits. I saw like a floating screen of my "final score" with name, points, total asset value (which was kinda low in retrospect) as though you get a sort of a closeout grade to compare with folks you'll see on the Otherside. Maybe. At some point I'm stumbling around and went to the bathroom and just kinda had to think about some stuff. Standing up, so at that I am more than fairly certain I was awake. And then I went and laid down again, curled up in my comforter not entirely certain of my status. Had I? How would I know? It's one of those things that happens when you live alone too long I guess. 

I checked my phone. 

Looking back I get that it didn't exactly help that lady in the story, but I guess that's where we are now. But who do you call at 4am with a non-emergency emergency? Who would understand, especially since nobody is familiar with the original story I probably shouldn't have actually read as a proper context for evaluation? Lying there in the dark a little afraid to do anything was not cool. 

I'm of the age where things just...happen. You get a notification of this person or that person is no longer with us and it just so sudden. And the stress of our current situation as a country, plus my current situation as a person, has me stressed in ways that aren't conducive to someone trying to get ready to run an ultra marathon or prepare for the Olympics. Neither of those categories includes me by the way, but if it ain't good for them, it surely isn't good for me either. I've been slacking on my working out - I had been pretty diligent - as other things in life keep creeping up and let's just say my focus has been split. I just did my personal fit check and found myself...lacking. I started on tightening up some things, but had I been too late? Then my morning alarm went off, which currently is radio, which my imagination started interpreting as "signs from the universe," as I found all kinds of secret messages meant only for me in every song lyric. 

This morning, at 5am, I lay in bed, unable to sleep, holding my phone wondering if I was a character in a horror story. 

I just need the next chapter in my life to start already. Damn. 

Barkeep. You have any of that "mushroom coffee" jazz?     

Once again...Last year.

Last year I described 2024 as the experience of waking up buck naked in the middle of the night in a cornfield. 

This year? Oh how I wish for that cornfield again. That was a nice cornfield. Good ears of corn too.  

Last year I watched as this country was ...reduced? Self-owned? Marginalized? Defenestrated? I need a word that captures so many things and I'm not sure that it even exists. So much happened outside of me that made me feel that my situation was trivial. Even when it wasn't. Things were not good. And last year I realized that I would have to take a leap into the darkness and just see where I land. But in what may have been some of the worst possible timing, as the ground appears to have moved the very moment my feet left it. Which, if you understand me, makes the landing part very difficult. 

But my peoples. 

For the record, I don't like to bother people. This I mean on a personal level, not professional. It's become sort of a personal flaw, to be completely honest. I have to force myself to be social. To call. To check in. To see how others are doing and being - because I really have an issue with being a bother. They're busy, they have lives and I'm just...well, me. Part of it is just being an introvert naturally, some of it learned de-socialization after I spent thirty years purposely making myself social, and lately coupled with a bit of personal shame at my current situation, it's been a real homebody just sitting around kinda season. I'm going to creatively say it was a low-key a "retreat" of sorts. Except my running partner keeps checking on me. And my cousin. And people I didn't expect to get to share company with showed back up. That last one is almost too good to be true, for a number of reasons. I need to get out more because I apparently have friends. It may have all been real. 

That need of a firm piece earth to land? Instead of just figuring it out alone...well, we'll see. 

Let's see what the year brings.  

Art Lives within us All

Ramblings Post #415
Art is a thing. I know when we imagined AI's arrival, we imagined that it would take away all the drudgery and accounting jobs, not the creation of Art, our that vision in our heads made public. I've seen too many people giddy with the anticipation of "creation," as if creation is now putting five sentences into a AI engine and hitting refresh until it spits out something they like. Where is the voice? The vision? The soul? It's something, no doubt but it's not really Art. It's just...content. If you know what I mean. 

Crown of the Feast by Izere Antoine 

Good art soothes. You can see the lines, the intent, and hopefully it says something to you. I've been out for a minute, but good Art, be it written, musical, or the product of paint or pen does something to you. It should. It should tell you that you're alive. 
 

Last Year Was.

I feel like last year was the experience of waking up in the middle of the night in a cornfield, buck naked.

Last year was.

And no, that's not going to trail off into something resembling pithy remarks, philosophical thoughts or comedic punditry learned through struggle. To wake up in lost in cornfield you generally have to start the night off good. The year did. To end up in the cornfield, well, things have to take a wicked turn. Last year started out with hope, new challenges, new possibility and an opportunity to do some things. It ends with me at home, tired and alone, psyching myself up to take leaps into the gaping maw of the vast unknown and just see what happens.

So....let's see what happens.

So...that happened.

So, this is a little late.

I usually like to share something on my birthday. A little something imploring those around me, those of whom I share a history or who were willing to share a bit of their lifetime with me to go out and live. Life is too short to spend it mired in the minutiae of day to day existence. Because things happen.

So my father just died.

And this year I spent my birthday helping my mother make the arrangements. Because she's mom and she needed another voice, another presence. I can't be easy losing someone with whom you'd spent nearly six decades. And I will have other birthdays.

But here, in these inevitable feelings, I realize how much I've let my life become that thing - that mired in the minutiae. I self describe myself as a writer, because there are stories and tales in my head that will take up residence like mental squatters if I don't write them down. But I haven't written anything more than a few paragraphs in months. The stories are still there I just don't tell them. I used to roam the city in search of new culinary delights and secret dens of music, fun of a sort, foods yet tasted and great reads on the dusty shelf of a used book store. And I still search online for new tastes and lively events. But now I find myself frustrated with traffic and just want to get back to the little place I rest my head.

What happened to me?

It's not age. Or is it? I recognize that I maybe to old to frequent where I used to go, but I have I lost the heart to venture out to find somewhere new? Yes, the crowd I used to socialize with has become the adults as as their children grew, but isn't the city is vast and teeming with people? Yes, change comes to man and his interests as we become vintage, but surely we should not chose to grow stagnant?

So here, in this moment, in these long unvoiced feelings, I ask those of you who would bother to read my rantings to take stock of where you are in life and realize that forever is promised to none of us. So take an hour or half a day and add value to your life. Paint something. A wall or a portrait. Go somewhere. The Maldives or the park. Hell, the end of the block. Eat something different. At that restaurant you always pass or from the grocery store aisle you avoid. Try an new twist on an old recipe. Do something. Change need not be drastic. Start small. Read an article you wouldn't or download that app and write a song. Do something that will bring you joy everyday. And keep it up.

I've found those stories that I paused a while back. I'm going to make some notes and finish this draft. I'm going to make some changes. Restart some of those projects that I've set aside in favor of falling down an internet rabbit hole of fanciful trivia in lieu in sleeping or being productive. Try to find myself again. Live.  

I suggest you do the same.

What I learned in 2023

This disappeared on me. And by that I mean that I was about 700 words in yesterday, had walked away to gather my thoughts for a few hours and when I came back my computer wouldn't respond, so without thinking about it I rebooted. Lost everything. In a sense kind of like last year. Not that I lost everything everything, I still have my computer and the things I did save, just not the new thoughts that had sprung forth, the progress I'd made. Because last year I had some losses and setbacks, just like everyone else, but I'd saved a lot, and as it turns out, sometimes I'm better on the second draft.

So I'm back. It's been a minute. A very long minute. This blog started, like so many other things in life, as one idea that slowly transformed into another. Short stories, screeds and philosophy, weird ideas, political takes, poetry and art appreciation. This had been a digital space to just see what fell out of my head, to make comments about life into that vast unknown ether - partially because I didn't think the people around me would appreciate them and I tend to not want bother people unless I have to. There were the occasional screams into the digital darkness, but maybe as I've gotten older I've changed. Well, I know I changed, I lost some weight, I read some stuff from some new sources, I've pared back the dumb stuff. Still indulging too much from time to time, but also realizing my knees ain't what they used to be (I pulled a hamstring taking off my pants the other day), and that two AM is not a good time to decide to start new projects. 

But around mid-year things got hectic. And a lot of things had to happen around the same time and since this was already something I was doing out of habit, this went to the back-burner. Then the closet, I guess, although the metaphor doesn't travel. I just lost this for minute. But then a lot of the things I really did intend to this year, that I actually did mean to focus on didn't get done either (duh.) Some because of my own mental machinations. Others because of things out of my control. Some things changed and because mortgage rates went up some stayed the same. But also fulfilled a few personal promises, and finally did some things I told myself I would do when I was fifteen, but kept making excuses to myself. Things came at me fast, more than once. But that's everyone and I like to believe I rolled with the punches and came up in not too terrible a position. When I think about it now, I've actually been pretty damned lucky in a sense. But that realization makes me wonder just how much longer this luck will hold.  

I still have a million scenes to the thousand stories dancing through my head, books I want to write but...I haven't really put pen to page since I stopped updating this. I need to get out of the house more, as the pandemic (and grey hair) turned me into a serious homebody, because I'm I need to grow my circle and my contacts. (Alternatively, all my stuff is in my house, so why leave?) I've lost weight but I need to lose more, and tone up a bit. Yeah baby, sexy dad body, although I have no kids, you know what I mean. But my new schedule is making the application of basic principles of self care in that regard harder than I expected. Because yes, exercise and health is self care. Important stuff. 

To start this new year, much like I've suggested every year I've offered suggestions - go do something. Seriously. Something you hadn't done. Something you've been meaning to do. I recently watched a video of a man just a little bit older than me realize that the window of life's opportunities was closing, and the list of regular things that he'd come to enjoy was soon going to lose a few items, and that things he really wanted to do might not possible soon. It was one of those odd throwaway moments that make you think when you weren't expecting it. I have maintained for years that I have more time, next week, next month, next season, next year. That may not be completely true. And some events this year put that into very real terms.

This past year I traveled. Not just the usual back to my hometown to see my parents, although that did become a major part of my year, or to the beach or something like that. No, this year I really traveled. Like clearing customs and stepping onto another continent traveled. In my youth I'd dreamed of getting away from that small town I grew up in and seeing the world. But my history had been when I had the time I didn't have the resources. And by the time I had gathered the resources I'd reached a opinion that work took precedence. Add in that I had never wanted to travel alone, I had wanted that mythical HER to be by my side. Just like it's not the food it's who you're eating it with, I'd developed the opinion that traveling was about the memories, and wanted my memories to make my heart sing. But that someone special part hasn't worked out for me like I'd hoped. She has her own plans. So last year when the opportunity came to go somewhere, I leapt at it anyway. And this year I'm going to do it again.

This year I take on new career challenges. I had been slowly building a career that I'd fallen into. I tend to get into what I'm doing, slowly building up momentum until the work becomes something else. That track, in keeping with the metaphor, got derailed this year. So again, I'm starting over. But starting over wiser, maybe more seasoned to how life is supposed to work. We'll see. But then again I realize that I'd taken that type of work because it was a quiet thing after a period of professional chaos. A quiet where I could focus and in that process I had let myself slip on so many levels. But I've always been professionally flexible and adapt quickly, and expect this new thing will push me to be better. And I need to be as good as I can be. Before I can't.  

Time is running out. This past year made it clear that my time and my luck won't last forever. And that I need to start chasing those dreams and doing those things I've been hesitating about, that I've been waiting for the right window of opportunity. I can't imagine how many variations on my future I've let die on the vine waiting for things I didn't have the audacity to begin. So as someone who has spent far too long getting ready for things to come, I need you to go out tonight and eat at that place you've thought about. Tell your loved ones they matter. Plan that trip. Start your journal, your side business, your religious awakening, your charity, your DYI project, your spaceship, your home brew, your exercise routine, to learn to cook, to learn a new language, to dance, to start walking, to mentor, go dancing, go camping, go the chili cook-off, join an improv group or try out for the national curling team. Just go do something, time is not your friend.

So that's what I learned in 2023. Go forth and do.

Blows off the dust....

Ramblings Post #410
Wallet. Keys. Cellphone. Mask. Ready. 

I'm back.

Although looking at the count of visitors to this blog, I'm really just reminding myself that I'm still here.

Shouts into the vast digital darkness.

*Digital crickets.*

But then that was really what this was when I started. Why I decided to do this in a forum where someone might find it instead of just on my computer will probably need to be looked into, but that's a whole other thing I'll need to explore later. As it is I've been meandering lately, running through the daily grind of just getting to the next day with the added difficulty of having to commute a few days week. I need to read more, having been derailed parsing through a book about nothing, not reading the other books I've bought due to that ennui and procrastinating trying to find the voice for the next chapters of the rewrite of a first draft. I'm trying to put some art on my walls, assemble a closet system and get the stuff on the back of my chairs onto hangers, find my diet (lost it on the candy aisle), start to exercise again and trying to stop finding new internet rabbit holes to fall down. I've been just being, which I wasn't enough and kept doing it anyway. So, now my existential question is what am I doing about it.

Writing this is a start.

Writing this pushes me to write more, to think more, to breathe more, to get more out, to do things because....I'm not even sure how that all works really. But writing makes something click once I start getting into it. Not that I haven't been creating. But it's a half an idea here, or an impulse not explored there. I've been avoiding throwing myself into whatever "it" is, so what is coming out is much too sporadic than makes for quality content.

I am an artist....not creating art.

Barkeep, let me have a ....what do you mean who am I? You KNOW ME!

What I Learned in 20....No, I'm not gonna say it.

So, what as the passing of another year into the books taught me? What lesson have I taken to heart and tried incorporate into the "new me," who is now the "old me" since twelve months have passed. What secrets have I gleaned from my trials and tribulations that I might share so that those who would walk behind me might find the path easier?

Let me get back to you on that.

I spent the last week or so trying to find the lessons. I thought about during the drive down to see the parents, while I slept on that single bed with the brand new mattress in the guest room at my parent's house, during the long drive home. And all this week while I kinda tried to keep my mind on my work tasks at the new chicken plucking factory. And since my plucking is now "hybrid" and has quite a bit of transport, I thought about it during those drives home. I bubbled and burbled a bit. The always consistent Life goes on. The tried and true Love endures. Even the paradoxical Sometimes getting what you want isn't the best thing, that last one in light of my re-submergence into Atlanta traffic. But nothing clicked. 

I've spent another year just mulling things over. I've planned and schemed a lot, and put in place a lot of things to get me to where I want to go. But I'm still in a mire of my own creation - replaying conversations and reexamining my actions instead of moving forward. It partly irritating because I know I can do better....but have apparently chosen this as the better option.

Some of this is still Covid related. Because unlike a lot of folks I see in social media, I'm still masking when I go out in most situations. I still limit my trips out to just the basics, despite seeing stadiums filled to capacity, night clubs jumping and concerts in full rock. But then I haven't had covid yet either, so there is that as a plus. But this limited interaction also limits that thing I realized last year that I actually need - the person in personal contact. I've done one social event this year and honestly...I miss it. But I'm also of the opinion that with my luck even vaxxed and boosted I'll end up flat on my back if I get it adding up my sins and looking for heavenly frequent prayer miles. 

This past year has been a...year. A number of things happened that I wish I had been a larger part of and the reason I wasn't because my own actions. I've said before and will continue to say that I'm responsible for 95% of things that happen to me through my own actions. I guess that's also true for my failings as well. And unfortunately for me, as I explained earlier, I'm probably going to dwell on that for far too long as well. Sigh.

So, words of wisdom.... eh? I'm not sure I'm as qualified to be handing them out as I like to believe I am. But here goes....

Go forth and live, taking time to balance between taking in the full of the now while keeping an eye on the future. Despite our best efforts and most passionate wishes, the world will not wait for us. Be kind but firm, and warm but cautious and open yourself up to the possibilities. Feast or famine, failure or triumph, just remember that you cannot stay here because here will not be here for long, so make a choice and go. And at the very least it will have been something you chose, not just let happen. 

To next year.

Gotta get your mind right...

Ramblings Post #408
I dunno even know anymore. The days all seem to mush together. The weather is all wonky. When I laid out my complete and total plan for how my life was supposed to go when I was in the fifth grade, sitting at home playing video games wasn't on my list. Mostly because at that age, the only video game was like PONG or something, but totally not the point. There were supposed to be yachts, penthouses and jets, and I supposed to be up for my fourteenth Oscar or something. Okay, I had a good imagination as a kid. Dream big. 

Next year I'm stepping outside of my comfort zone. It's pretty comfortable in here, but you can't grow in your comfort zone. And I need to grow. I mean, at this point I need to do something, I've gotten pretty damned lax. So we're gonna get up off our ass and do...something. 

I want to wake up in a villa by the beach and drink coffee as the tide rolls in.

I want to eat foods I've never even heard of while sitting in a country I hadn't been to, with the people who made it.

I want vistas and sunsets. I want guitar solos and singing at the top of my lungs the words to song I don't even know.

I want to dance. 

I want to see the places I told myself I would go when I wrote my bucket list some 30 plus years ago. 

And as much as I wanted someone to share the adventure with, I see now I may have to go it alone. 

...

And I can't do that from the comfort of my couch.

Oh, and I'm gonna get a new couch!

Barkeep. I'm gonna need a flask. Full of whiskey.

 

I need a break...

Ramblings Post #407
Where will you be when you get where you're going? This was a question asked by an old country comedian Jerry Clower. It's one of those things what with his accent just sounded funny, but is more a question that makes you question yourself. We wake, wash, work and waste away in this funny little thing called life. Do we know where we're going? Will we even know when we get there? And how much to get in? 

So yesterday I took a sleep.

I had my usual day. I'm ranching from the house, so I logged in early and got started. My breakfast was a pair of sausage biscuits. Not the big ones like fast food places make, but this little one I found that you can microwave. Now I take them out of the package and quick fry them and put them back in the bun because I'm extra. And with the right seasoning and a bacon press they taste like the sausage biscuits from this little spot in my home town. But I digress. And lunch was a salad, my now usual at least four times a week. Ruff-agê!

After work I was a little tired. Okay, a lot tired, I started nodding off in front of the computer while I was playing games instead of actually working on something towards self improvement or something that might make me some money. It's been that kinda season. Ugh. But I was down bad. I'd grabbed a small bowl of Crunchy Cheez Doodles to tide me over until dinner, which was supposed to be chicken curry, but I wasn't going to make it. So I figured, a quick thirty minute nap. I put the iPad on some light jazz, crawled on the couch and pulled up the throw. It was about a quarter after Seven.

So at when I awoke at One AM I was a wee bit confused.

Okay, no, I haven't been getting a solid eight hours lately. One rabbit hole after another on the internet, dumb games, etc., AND no I hadn't been eating right lately, you leave the house to run an errand and the burgers start calling my name. So too much red meat, not enough fish and chicken, and too much sugar because red velvet cupcakes are from hell. I've been pushing it lately not achieving. So maybe I just needed it.

Still. Damn. Hell of a nap.

Barkeep. Tall glass of ice water. I got gaming to catch up on! Okay fine, some work. Ugh. 

I look up at night...

Ramblings Post #404
They were right. We don't really know what we've got until it's gone. It's hard to miss something still there, or in some cases even understand it at that moment, but once something is no longer within our boundaries - something as simple as spot to look up at night and be awed - the loss becomes evident in ways we can hardly imagine. 

As a kid I spent time on grandparents farm, a place down three different bumpy dirt roads beautifully decorated by nature with a canopies of trees that made the trip feel magical to me. It was a quiet place, where they'd lived for fifty years, pumped water from a well and one of the barns was where my father was born. At night there was one light pole that was perpetually dim, I don't know why.

There the night sky was a tapestry. It was magical. Thousands upon thousands of stars.

At my parents house in a small southern town, with light poles here and there by request, looking up at the night sky I could see at best two or three stars.

I now live in the city. 

I want to see the sky of my childhood again.  

A Venture Out

Ramblings Post #393
I'm going to have to go back and actually finish Red Dead Redemption 2. I just realized I did the same thing with GTA V the first time. At some point I just stopped playing. Work, other things came up and then I picked the controller back up one day and was like...okay what am I doing here? I think I may have gotten more into PC gaming - strategy and the like as of late - but there is still some much more game in there I know it. Does that put it on my backlog list though?

I got my oil changed for the first time in a year a few months ago. It was then I realized that the travel and going out thing wasn't really sourced from the lockdowns and stay at home...er, "suggestions." (Because every other person I knew rolled out at some point. Except me apparently) I had gotten my oil changed last March right before the pandemic first came out, and in the interim I had put less than 1500 miles on my car. In twelve months. I was when I got the notice that I only had a few more payments left and that I had owned it for the full 60 months did I realize the weight of the issue. 

I bought the car with 15K on it. I have not yet reached 62K. 

I don't go nowhere. 

I used to roam the streets of Atlanta. A dive bar here, a odd eatery there. Sometimes just to see what they had. I'd drive halfway across the city for a bookstore or an odd computer part. I've driven to parties in Stockbridge and north of Kennesaw, quite possibly in the same night. 

Now I look at what's in my fridge and say "eh, I'll go to the grocery store tomorrow." 

Life comes at you....well, I think it's got to come at me now because I given my choice me and Netflix doesn't sound that bad at all.

Barkeep. Apparently I'm not driving anywhere. Everclear and two cubes of ice. And a cot in your back room. 

  

A Visit Home

Ramblings Post #392
Life changes tend to sneak up on you. A lot of times we make small shifts over time and before we know it our new normal isn't what we think it is. I made deliberate efforts to stay home and safe last year. And I filled my laptop and TV with distractions and other entertainment. But as this starts to wind down....we hope.... the changes which before were a chore now feel comfortable. Maybe a little too comfortable. Changing back may mean giving up these Oreos and the spot on the couch shole is comfy. Hopefully what comes next is a getting it together montage before the big, well, something or other. I hope the music is thrilling.

Home isn't a place, it's a feeling. And despite being put out by the travel in the past, I have long missed the feeling of being in the presence of my folks. Sometimes aggravating, sometimes a little overbearing, but always with love, my folks. So now that I'm properly vaxxed up, and they have been for a few months now, I loaded up the Pacer and for Mother's Day weekend got on the road to see my Mom.

Now my mother is a practical woman. Last year when before I even broached the subject of coming down despite the pandemic she quickly headed me off at the pass. She said the phone worked - both ways - and wasn't no need to risk our health with all that riding up and down the road. They weren't planning on going anywhere so we should just wait it out. And during the Great Homestay of 2020 I did speak to my people frequently, sometimes two or three times a week, way more than I did usually. So it wasn't like I was out of touch. But the phone is different than actually seeing someone in person. 

So I gassed up Friday night after work and got on the road early Saturday morning, driving straight through. I don't usually like to do that because that was my father's habit when I was kid. Okay he had three fairly hyperactive children with him so maybe he had some purpose. But now when I take a road trip, and I drove more this past Mother's Day weekend than I drove pretty much the last nine months of 2020, I'll stop at a spot on the side of the road because I'm the driver and I can. Stretch my legs if you will. Or anyways, I used to do that, in the before times, in the long, long ago. No, this time once the car got rolling it didn't stop again until I rolled up in my parents driveway.

My parents looked older. I guess they've looked older every time I've seen them, it's just that it's becoming more noticeable. But they're alive and kicking so that's all that counts. My mother even cooked, something she swears she doesn't do very often anymore. And we ate, and talked about the past and remembered better times. I washed dishes, hung pictures and fixed computer issues. We caught up and just were together.

I also forgot that my mother's house contains THE harshest mirrors on the planet. There is no forgiveness in those babies. I mean swore I had been losing weight lately until I saw myself in her mirrors. I was feeling good, getting my steps up, then bam! The mirror in the bathroom I grew up in could even be considered cruel. Might have to go back to wheat bread and brown rice.

Since last year's lockdown, I had been three places other than a grocery store or a drive thru: My brothers house twice, to my old Running Partner's spot where we sat outside in the driveway and to Spanky's house. Other than that, and to get my vaccine shots I have been home. Luckily I was able to find a ranching gig that let me work from home so I can keep the lights on and the phone working. Going to see my parents felt good. And not just because of the hours in the car seeing the countryside for the first time in a while.

Life needs to get better.

Barkeep. Yes, I've been vaxxed up, now give me a tall cold beer. Yes, I have my card....

What I learned - Last Year

"We made it."

Sporty texted that to me about ten minutes after midnight. Last year that wouldn't have been a statement that meant the same thing. Even as I've gotten older and found that father time is an old tricky bastard who steadily robs us of fashion sense, vitality, and older relatives, the term "we made it" still wouldn't have had the same resonance twelve months ago. Because after the year that was last year the simple concept of getting here is still something a lot of us can't comprehend. 

If all you did last year was make it to this year, I'm proud of you. 

Last year this onslaught of a decade of events stuffed into twelve short blurry months stripped away the last of the veneer of the differences between who we are and who we say we are. It showed a lot us who we really are, like down deep. Because under normal circumstances we all like to adjust and tinker with the picture that we show the world. Not necessarily fix it, but gloss over or touch up our faults and flaws, putting a little dab of color on those ugly spots on the canvas that make up the whole of us. Most of the time we get away with it. Last year changed that. We were confronted by nature, from fires raging across Australia to pandemic that shut down whole countries. We were confronted by injustice, as the hypocrisy and violence that happens in the shadows came to video for eight minutes and forty-six seconds and woman died in her sleep because someone lied. We were confronted with inherent biases, arrogance and stupidity as we waged a war of ideas for the future of this country. I barely even remember the murder hornets. We were confronted and had to own up to who we really were.

As it turns out, stripped down to the barest of who are there are entirely too many of us that can't discern the difference between a want and a need. We need groceries. We want our nails done. I enjoy a night out as much as the next person, but an evening of drinks and dancing just isn't prudent right now. I love sports, but not if it means the end of careers in a season that will be remembered as meaningless. Too many of us can't handle the math of large numbers and still think of this pandemic as binary, as either life or death, when the truth is that the large grey area in the middle we're ignoring are organ damage that may never heal. Too many of us have been unable to learn from the mistakes of others, and only see the light once we've met the virus up close. And finally many of us have had to realize that talk is cheap if we're not doing what we said we're doing. And sometimes even when we are doing what we said we're doing. We supposedly care about others, but then it turns out some of us really don't if we won't do the minimum to help them. 

We also desperately need to believe that it's all behind us with the passing into the new year. But much like the national lines, state lines and county lines this virus ignores the calendar just like a short handed manager. Nobody knows how much longer until this is over, maybe weeks, or maybe we have a long way to go. Yes, we're all tired and frustrated, weary of the stories of death just over the hill or around the corner. But I don't need to see a dead body or find out how a ventilator works to be convinced. And I'm really hoping this is the start of the fourth quarter, not the end of the first half. 

You'll note, I haven't called that year by name anywhere in here. 

So what do I ask of you this year? The same as last year. The same as every year. To go and do something different. I know that last year forced a lot of us do just that by default. Work from home. Spend more time with our family. Explore new skills and hobbies if only to end the boredom. We've either built new bonds or torn down those false structures we'd come to hang our hats on. Life is funny like that. I started online Spanish Lessons this year. (Started...I'm still a novice, please to embarrass me.) And I've halfway explored a number of new dishes, read a couple books I regret, explored some new avenues of thought, started the second draft of one of the many novels I promised myself I would finish. We have time. I'm hoping I'm late with this advice. So go plant the garden, make the pie from the internet, read that book you swore you'd read, start your podcast, call your old college roommate, start walking, take on online class, renew your vows in the backyard in front of the dog. This pandemic thing isn't over yet. And with any luck we'll never get back to normal, but instead emerge into something new, better and more equitable going forward. 

Now, this year is more existential than normal. I live alone, and there were days this year where I didn't leave the house for two and a half weeks at a time. I've had a lot of conversations in my head. There have also been the occasional dance number and private concert, don't judge me. So the question here is, what have I learned...from inside my own head? 

There is no time like now. 

Win, lose or draw, success or failure, big money or snake eyes. Now is the time. 

Every contact counts. 

Living alone means every text, every zoom, every little bit of another person is a lot. Thank you. 

I would really like a hug. 

The things that we miss that we didn't realize we'd miss. There is a difference between an in-person conversation and and zoom. 

Reality is becoming less a thing. 

Far too often as of late our own little interpretation to suit our own ends and satisfy our own souls are replacing the actual facts. These little bubbles we've built are the next great cultural war. 

Cooking means cleaning. 

I have come to dislike building a meal from scratch, because it will involve cleaning everything I used. This wasn't so bad when I ate out a lot, but at one point I was cooking every meal.

Television is overrated. 

I have probably watched less television this year than any other. The medium just doesn't feel the same anymore. Too passive. Books and open ended video games. 

Lying to yourself is more harmful than having someone else lie to you. 

You know the truth and chose to act like it wasn't. Because reasons. It's self defeating. 

Fears are limits we gave ourselves. 

I have fears. Some big, some little, but all mine. And it's my responsibility to face those fears. Because that lying to myself does not work. 

Opportunity doesn't come with a bow. 

We asked the universe for more time for important things, with family, to focus on ourselves, to rest. And it came. Wasn't quite what you were expecting, eh? 

Commitment is key. 

If we agree to do something, then we do it until it is finished. That's not a hard concept. 

Consistency makes things easier. 

For those things we are committed to, we must engage them regularly, consistently, habitually, until they are done. 

Love. 

Because it's always been about love. Every damn time.