It took a long time but I'm finally tired of humping.....

  Maybe it took turning 50 for the change to occur. Or perhaps nothing more than a general lack of energy was the cause. Something that I used to look forward to many times over the average day is now something that I feel I have to do. What was once savored as a reward or special celebration is now more of a duty, to be completed without any emotional involvement at all if possible. When it's over a sense of sadness fills my soul wondering where the passion has gone.
    It used to be that my heart would quicken, skin would flush and I would become almost dizzy when it started. My only sadness then was when it was over (far too soon) was that I'd have to wait to do it again. At least twenty or thirty minutes but closer to two or three hours these days before I could have another round of humping. What was once a goal or destination is now a routine. The time for humping has been slowing for a while now and I think I can say it's done for good.
    Once the horrible decision had been made to start smoking cigarettes the only brand I've smoked has been Camel filters. Therefore when it was time to have a smoke I always said it was time to do some Camel humping. (I have the ability to be crude at most times) But after smoking for 6 or 7 years the time has come to quit. This time it has been easier than before for the reasons I described above. There is no pleasure left, only the cough and the smell. The thought of putting on a few pounds is a trade I'm now ready to accept. Husky has a nice ring to it, big boned kind of rolls off the tongue. So it's back to the expandable waistband pants and large floral prints shirts and that's fine by me.

     Sometimes quitting is the only way you win. My battle with alcohol was a losing one until I decided to give it all up. Once I gave my will away I got out of the way. This concept is counter intuitive to all of us but especially the very competitive amongst us. So if you find yourself struggling with any addiction, try not using your will power to quit. Try and admit to yourself that you just can't beat it by yourself and ask for help. Who you ask is entirely up to you, I chose God but that took years to get to. At first I asked for the people around me, known has "The group" but that changed to God later on. It's okay to quit if the price of winning is going to the hospital or the morgue.
     One more addiction to throw on the trash heap. I am running out of things to give up.

Till next......
   
     
      

That looks like it hurts really bad....

   Mastering a grasp of the obvious is what a fellow bike rider was doing when he passed me after a very nasty wreck which left no skin on my left side from the shoulder to the butt cheek. The muscle on my shoulder was clearly visible so I'm pretty sure it hurt really bad. This happened 28 miles into a 100 mile race which proved to be even more agonizing because the same wreck bent my front tire allowing me to reach top speeds of ten miles per hour going downhill. For the record, I got a new tire at the 65 mile mark and completed the race. I can't even describe the pain because my brain mostly shut down until the following day. My purpose in telling this is not to elevate me to Chuck Norris like status (Chuck would have tilted the Earth so the rest of the ride was downhill) but establish my credentials as someone who has a very high pain threshold. Of the four bones I have broken over the years I declined surgery to repair them every time. I chose pain over a long recovery because I don't like hospitals or doctors very much.
    Today was a change in philosophy concerning physical pain. Several years ago it appears I dislocated my right shoulder. I don't remember doing it but the evidence is clear I did. Now that the pain has traveled down my right arm all the way to the wrist so I made an appointment to get it looked at. The pain has become too much and I am a fool for ignoring it for so long. Which brings me to the reason of today's blog: Holding on to pain is not what we are designed or destined to do. It doesn't matter if you believe in evolution or God, the result is the same. Pain is a symptom that something is wrong. As men we are taught to ignore pain if at all possible. Sadly I've told my kids, "Shake it off, Walk it off, It's over so get over it". Not the best parenting I've ever done. Physical pain is easier to deal with because the cause is usually defined, mental pain is the one that I'm writing about and how we can become so screwed up in how we deal with it.
    Loss of a loved one, being abused, divorce, childhood trauma, comments made from parents and peers and bullying are all things that can leave severe emotional pain and scars. The most healthy thing to do is talk to someone about it, get sad and cry about it, vent your anger about it and then forgive whoever and move on. But is that what we do? Not usually, instead we bury it deep into the brain. Or we rationalize it away as not that big a deal. People who are stuck in abusive relationships actually convince themselves they deserve it or they caused it. Bullshit! Nobody deserves to be abused either physically, verbally or emotionally. Or we seek out shows or people that are much worse than we are and think, "At least I'm not that bad". We watch our Hoarders, Biggest Loser and Real Housewives shows and forget about the pain because in comparison it doesn't hurt that much. It would be great if it helped but it doesn't. Action is the only thing that does.
    So how do you get rid of pain? Get rid of whatever is causing it. Either fix what is broken or remove it completely. Physical pain is straightforward, if a rock is in your shoe you take off your shoe and throw the rock away. But if your in an abusive relationship and that rock has been there for years it isn't that easy. The end result may be the same though. If it can't be fixed it has to be removed. Deep emotional wounds stretching back years can be crippling if we use them as a crutch. The pain becomes almost like an old friend who we can depend on. The good news is it ain't no friend and it's got to go. Brutal self honesty is the start of getting rid of what holds you back. You can pay someone who doesn't know you to ask you the same questions you can ask yourself. What is the source of your pain? Did I cause this to happen? If the answer is yes, forgive yourself. We all make mistakes and you are not immune or perfect. If the answer is no, tell yourself that and remind yourself you didn't deserve what happened. And then forgive whoever it was that hurt you. I didn't say to hang around them or even have contact with them. If you don't forgive them you will never forgive yourself. And you don't deserve to live in pain. None of us do nor should we.
     I am not a doctor or therapist. I hold no degrees. What I do have is a lot of real experience. Take my advice or don't but please don't just ignore the pain. There is only one Chuck Norris.

Till next.....
    

The balancing act of passing 50.....

Is a very tricky one indeed. I crossed a half century of pissing people off last October so I've had a few months to formulate a plan for the rest of my years. Not anything as drastic as a financial retirement plan, more of a general set of rules to keep me from sitting on a park bench mumbling about the grassy knoll to people who pass by too closely. Just some thoughts to focus on to keep me as young as I can be.
   There is an old and crass joke that says the three rules of getting old are 1. Never pass up the chance to take a nap 2. Never trust a fart 3. Never waste an erection because you don't know when the next one is going to appear. While those are certainly three valid points they don't work well for me. I don't ever take naps and I can't live with the constant fear of the fart. As far as the erections, unless I'm in the company wife it won't matter, I'm just not that into me anymore. I've heard all my best pick up lines and seen all my moves. I'll wait for the next one anyway, thank you very much. It's time to introduce three new rules of getting older.
   First is to resist using the phrase, "when I was a kid" or any derivation thereof. News flash: Nobody gives a crap about what happened when you were a kid. Do you think someone tweeting on a cell phone can relate to you wrapping yourself up in that extra long telephone cord trying to get out of your parents hearing range. Or someone on an Ipad is going to stop what they are doing and ask you, "Please tell me more about how great the 80's were. I never tire of listening to the people who were responsible for parachute pants and leg warmers"? Not only will it never happen, it never should. Keep your memories in the current aggrandized form and move on. The look of boredom and scorn this phrase produces will make you feel old instantly.
     Second is to not give in to the urge to quit doing the things you did when you were younger. I am not suggesting if you used to like going on a three day drunk and ending up in a different state you should do so now. (This is not an admission such a thing occurred) Whatever it was that you loved to do that kept you active when you were younger, should keep you active now. Maybe we run a lot slower or swim at a more deliberate pace but at least we should keep doing it. Golf once a week if that's what you like, or paint or write poetry but don't let yourself think you can't because you're a certain age. An added benefit is watching people a lot younger than you look confused when you pass them or win a game against them. (I am growing older, I never said I am growing up).
     The third new rule is the toughest one to do. It involves stepping out of our comfort zone in a big way. As life kicks the snot out of us over the years we become jaded and cynical. The inevitable result is we limit our circle of friends, share our lives with fewer and fewer people. The best thing we can do to keep from becoming a grumpy old man or woman is to talk and become friends with younger people. Each generation thinks the younger generation will be the end of us all. And they are always wrong. Personally when I see a kid with his ass hanging out of his pants and a backward baseball cap sitting crooked on his head it takes a lot of effort to look past it. Then I remember how I used to wear my hair and the clothes I wore. Oops. Judge not lest you be judged indeed. I'm sure they look at us with our pants hiked up to our armpits and twenty dollars in loose coins rattling in our pocket and wonder how we held a job as well. But by actually engaging kids and young adults a funny thing happens that defies logic. You find a common ground and walk away feeling just a little better about them and you. Don't know why it works but it does, I do it daily.
    Hopefully these ideas will help in your journey to the early bird special at Kips Big Boy or wherever. We should ask ourselves one question each year on our birthday: Do I define my age or does my age define me? I'm going to do the defining.

Till next.....

It's all Greek to me.....

  The world is changing at such a rapid pace that an old dinosaur like me has trouble keeping up sometimes. Recently at work I took over running the dairy department and what I was exposed to certainly opened my eyes. In just three short decades some of things I knew as a kid aren't true anymore. The illusions of youth are shattered on an almost daily basis. It all started with the infatuation over Greek yogurt. I kid you not.
   When I was a kid you had to eat yogurt if you pissed your parents off while the other kids enjoyed ice cream. Nobody actually asked to eat yogurt unless you were trying to curry favor with someone or you had a rare disease that only yogurt would cure. But now it's not just yogurt, it's what type of yogurt. The weekend warrior athletes spend a fair amount of time analyzing the protein versus carb information before selecting Greek yogurt with running commentary, "The twelve grams in here is almost equal to a steak". Well, yes, but it is still yogurt. Activa is a popular choice for women which I suspect is a result of the ever flatulent Jamie Lee Curtis advertising. This will not come as a surprise to anyone that men don't need a food product to help expel gas. In addition most of us are so full of crap we don't need help getting rid of it.
    Remember when you used to go to the store to get a gallon of milk and you didn't need to ask what kind? Those days have gone the way of Atari and Pong. Lactose free, Soy milk, Almond milk, Organic milk and Goat milk are all options to help you live longer these days. Next to the type of milk the most important trait must be the expiration date. I've seen women with three kids in the shopping cart and two more following behind dig through the shelf like a homeless man in a steakhouse dumpster to find a gallon that expired in 13 days instead of 11. With all those kids the only way that milk is lasting 11 days is if she serves it with an eye dropper. Men are no different except they have to announce the conquest to anyone in ear shot, "This one's got an extra two days on it." His parents would be so proud.
     Last but certainly not least is the embryo whisperer. The shopper who grabs the dozen eggs and opens the container and studies them the way a doctor reads an x-ray. Visible cracks are child's play to this person, they are looking for the history of the egg. I've seen people spin an egg in the palm of their hand. Apparently the relationship of the yolk to the outer wall of the shell determines the flavor profile. Or perhaps this is just the last stop before heading back to the basement to perfect the time machine. It all seemed so much much easier when I was a kid. Well, it's time for me to play an 8 track of Cheap Trick and head off to bed.

Till next......
    

I heard the gun go off.....

 I just didn't realize right away that it was a starter pistol. About 11 months ago when I was let go from my full time job the gun went off signaling the start of a brand new phase of my life. I thought it was more like a bullet to the head initially because it left me unemployed (except for a part time, one day a week job) with bills to pay and no retirement savings to speak of. My brain went through all the doomsday scenarios in warp speed including divorce, homelessness and becoming a drunk again. For a man who is positive by nature it was alarming how fast my mind went negative. Thankfully it didn't stay there.
    Sometimes the bad things that happen in your life are not that at all. Perception can be a bitch if skewed improperly. No doubt losing your income can be a shock to the system and I don't recommend it but it can be replaced. The problem is that when you are born with a penis you are identified by your work. It doesn't matter if it's fair or not, it is a fact. Two men can play a round of golf together and afterward not be able to tell you a thing about each other's families but everything about their jobs. Two women can stand in line at Starbucks and be able to write a biography on Ancestry.com about the other person by the time the get a Venti. So when a man loses his job it represents more than income. It represents an identity crisis of sorts. If you are approaching the half century mark it seems much more serious.
   Less than three hours after I was let go I had my schedule changed at Publix to 40 plus hours a week. They were really excited to have me join them full time and created a space on the schedule to make sure I could work enough hours to support myself. Since then there have been two promotions and a third one is imminent. One man's trash may indeed be anothers treasure if this continues. The adjustment to being "just" an hourly employee instead of management has been interesting to say the least. It has been starting over from square one in an industry I knew nothing about. The key is that it was a start, not an end. The company treats employees well and fairly from my perspective. Clearly what I thought was the end of my identity was not. It was an opportunity to thrive in a new career and realize where my true identity lies.
    My character, faith, loyalty, sense of humor, compassion and love for my fellow man define me. Vocations will come and go but the things I do day in and day out identify who I am more than any job ever could. None of us will ever be perfect (especially me) but that doesn't stop me from getting out of bed and trying to be better today than I was yesterday. Part of the depression I have been battling is because I forgot all of what I just wrote. Despite the praise at work about my performance I still felt like I had failed. In fact nothing could be further from the truth. If I had made the choice to give up I would have failed. Instead I chose to start over and lo and behold the sun is beginning to shine again. I can't wait for tomorrow.

Till next...... 

I didn't have sex with a good looking black man....

Not that there is anything wrong with it but it's not my cup of tea. Despite the somewhat shocking title the post today is actually an attempt to explain the silence form the man cave. Stella lost her groove and found her way back to life. The funny thing about movies is it all happens in two hours and the people watching talk about how neat it was the whole way home. Loosing one's groove is anything but neat and it never comes back in a couple of hours. How do I know? For the last six or seven months I have had depression.
   Those of you who know me well are probably surprised and some are even shocked. My mantra of happiness is a choice has been repeated so many times my kids finish saying it before I do. Was I unhappy? I can't say that I was or wasn't. I got up and went to work everyday and came home and kissed my wife, ate dinner, watched some television and went to bed. Sounds normal until you look a little deeper into yourself. Then it got dark in a hurry. The same twisted mind that always saw the optimistic side was now running through every negative scenario and convincing me they were all true.
   Curling up in the fetal position on the couch and crying never did happen. There were never any thoughts of cashing in my chips or going back to drinking. In fact, I was completely unaware of what was wrong. I quit talking to anyone except my family and people I had to work with. Engaging in political discussion didn't even interest me. I haven't played golf in almost a year now. I quit going to the gym and I quit writing my blog. But the whole while I thought everything was normal, I was just a little more tired than usual. (Considering that I am never tired, that should have been a clue) Scarlett had a pretty good idea but any questions were met with the standard, "I'm just a little off". Having a problem is bad enough, not knowing it is even worse. Instead of confident (or cocky) I was subdued and uninterested. Almost tame.
     Oddly enough it was a commercial on the radio that got me thinking maybe I was more than tired. It started out asking if you were lethargic, not communicating with friends, sleeping less or sleeping more and so on. My first thought was it was another commercial for boner pills but there was no disclaimer for the four hour erection. (On that side note I would go to the hospital if that happened, and the store, the golf course, the DMV and anywhere else to tell people about it.) It was a commercial for a new depression drug that you could sign up for. I don't take drugs except Advil or Claritin so I tuned out after that until I sat down at the computer that night. Every symptom listed got a big check mark except for sleeping more. When I shared this information with Scarlett she told me she already knew. Well ain't that a kick in the head.
     My life has been filled with people who have suffered from depression and I always feel empathy but never really understood it. And I would have been the very last person I thought would ever have to battle it. Using the term battle was not a mistake because that is what it is. The mind is powerful and relentless. Fortunately mine has remained functioning normally (debatable, I know) for most of my half a century. Then one day it seemed to change in small degrees. Going to the gym seemed more of a hassle than fun. Playing golf takes five hours and cost too much money for my $9 an hour job so I'll just stay home. Politics, they all suck and are liars so who cares? It just didn't happen all at once. I didn't wake up and not shower for a week, sleep for sixteen hours a day. I just stopped caring and life without passion isn't really living.

   Which brings up the two most important questions: What caused it and how to cure it? Well, these are only assumptions but I suspect the cause was a large building of events that I have never dealt with over a lifetime. Family and friends dying, job loss, divorce, not seeing my kids everyday and others. Searching for a job and going on multitudes of great interviews and getting the "sorry but we decided..." email two days later played a large part as well. Those are the reasons as best I can tell. Much like alcoholism the reason why I have it doesn't matter. How do I stop it is all I care about. With alcohol it's a little easier, just don't take a drink. Depression is different because you can't tell yourself to not think something because then you will immediately think about it. So how did I get my groove back? Once again, I didn't have sex with a black man. I did start exercising again and changed my diet a little. I started watching and reading things with a positive message instead of my steady diet of news and politics. More than anything I decided to remember who I am and whose I am. On the whole I'm not perfect but I ain't all bad either. When I hear someone say something (usually inside my own) I ask myself if what I heard is true or bullshit. There is a lot of bullshit being spread around the world. Inside and outside of my head.
    Lastly I wanted to explain the reason for such a personal blog post. If someone reads this and realizes they have "been a little off" maybe it will help. The other reason is it helped me. Selfish yes but admit it, you started reading because of the title anyway....

Till Next........

What happened to the Marlboro Man?

Starting back in May of last year I took a part time job at a local grocery store to earn some extra cash to retire debt. It was the whole Dave Ramsey thing, pay off the small bills first and then the big ones. Everything worked out and the IRS is no longer sending me Christmas cards. If you ever want to see a true slice of people's lives get a job stocking shelves. The one thing that really surprised wasn't the extreme coupon clippers or the really confused men on the baking aisle. It is the couple who occupy the health and beauty aisle for a half an hour.
I must have missed the memo that said shopping and smelling deodorants together is a bonding experience. Or asking your wife or girlfriend what she thinks about a certain type of face wash. Nothing against smelling good or washing your face but how about growing a pair of testicles and buying some charcoal and lighter fluid? I thought as men we were supposed to be somewhat rough around the edges. Head of the household should be a little more macho than requesting permission for the peach mango bath beads, don't you think? Do you really want your wife looking to you for advice on scented candles? Or garnering your insight concerning fabric softener? This can't be what we men were designed for. We can barely wipe our ass correctly.
Perhaps the Alpha male is no longer relevant? At the very least the numbers seem to be shrinking. It used to be that men were counted on to dress badly and behave even worse after a few drinks especially. Get a group of guys together and listen to the dirty jokes and war stories fly. Now you are just as likely to hear heartfelt debates about feelings, fashion or, gasp, face wash. Maybe its for the better but I'm not so sure. We were made differently for a reason. It's hard to ignore someone if they are talking about something you are actually interested in. And as men, we should be ignored at regular intervals. Part of our charm is that we are so clueless about the opposite sex. If we start communicating with knowledge and passion the world will be out of balance. Sports bars, bowling alleys and topless bars are doomed. The economy will collapse.
How alarming would it be if your wife came down on Sunday morning and took a seat on the couch while scratching herself and mumbling something about watching the pregame show? Or if she leans up on one cheek, passes gas and looks at you and said,"That felt really good"? Are you seeing the big picture yet? I think everybody can see the problems this role reversal would create.
So my advice to all the men wandering around the hair coloring or staring intently at the scented deodorants is simple: It's called bar soap or body wash. Pick one and get over yourself. As soon as you leave the store go and change the transmission in a strippers car to get your testosterone level back up. And please stop asking your wife or girlfriend to smell whatever it is your about to buy. Unless it's a steak that's on sale and out of date. Then its okay.

Till next.......

How can the days be so long and.....

yet the years seem to fly by. Waxing nostalgic is often a futile exercise (sort of like calling customer service for Comcast) but sometimes it serves a valuable purpose. Tonight I spent dinner with my parents and my wife and predictably some childhood stories were regaled, all of them highlighting what a well mannered and disciplined child I was. If you believe that please stop reading and seek help now.


Tripping down memory lane did get my addled mind thinking about the question I opened the blog with. Some days when we wake up the energy is just not there. On other days it seems the world is out to steal your joy before the coffee is even cold. Most of my days are not like that. fortunately, but there are some. Those are the ones that are easy to write off has just a "bad day". Nothing will ever prevent you or me from having those days, and that's okay. It's the other type of days that worry me.


During our conversation it came up that my oldest son is turning 16 in two weeks. It couldn't have been more than a year or two ago he was running around opening all the child proof cabinets and reading the labels of dangerous cleaning products.(True) Maybe a month or two has passed since I drove him to school to start 3rd grade in a new state and had to calm his nerves so he would get out of the car. Wasn't it last week when he won the Lion Pride award for best kid in the 5th grade? The years have just gone by so fast that I wish I could grab just a few days back and slow down so I could relish them more. But there is where the problem lies.


Life is lived day by day and sometimes minute by minute. We get in a routine that revolves around what is planned for the next day or the upcoming weekend. How many times a day to we find ourselves thinking about what we are doing after work? Or what we are going to do next month or next year? Personally I do it all the time. It's not about throwing myself into what I'm doing as much as it throwing myself into completing the next project. It's like a race where I keep moving the finish line every time I get close just to see how far I can go.


And the end result of all this is the days can seem very long indeed. The amount of work I accomplish is impressive but nothing more than routine. So the days go by slowly sometimes but one day you wake up and your child is getting his drivers license. The solution is one that is so obvious that I should have figured this out long ago. Time spent invested in people and their lives and triumphs and problems returns so much more than anything else. I'm not saying to quit work and hit the bars making friends, it's easier than that. The people we work with, live with, come in contact with are the people we should be concentrating on in the course of our day.


Can you name your co-workers children's name? Do you know where they come from or what type of music they like? The reason we should know is partly selfish but not entirely. It is more enjoyable to work with someone you know and care about. It is also easier to go through the everyday routine when the goal isn't just to get done. Perhaps the days will go by quicker but the years will seem to slow down because they will be filled with friendship and empathy for others rather than regret and lament for ourselves. Can it be that easy? I hope so.





Till next......