If it weren't for this sense of humor I might be totally ..

useless. What do you say about a man who is incapable of the simplest household tasks? Recently I took on the chore of hanging a towel rack in the bathroom that had been unceremoniously ripped out of the wall. 15 minutes later I emerged from the garage with a tape measure and a plan of action. After carefully calculating the exact height and width of the entire wall I was off to Wal Mart for some serious hardware. I may have listened to a Bob Villa book on tape on the way to the store to help gird my loins before beginning my remodeling career.
As I walked into the store I went right to the section housing towel racks. Well, not exactly. After 10 minutes of aimlessly searching aisle after aisle I stopped a Wal Mart associate. Not really sure what he was associated with but it was not a knowledge of bathroom fixtures or their location. Two associates later I was swaying in a very deep trance in front of nine different types of towel bars. I was in serious trouble now. My measurements were of no help here. This was going to take some professional advice. I found a guy wearing a plaid shirt. Hello expert!
"Do you think you need wall anchors?" I don't know. The wall seemed perfectly sturdy to me but you can never be to sure so I said "Sure do, it's pretty loose". My plaid covered expert looked at me like a father looks at his son who has just stuck a nickel up his nose and asked for help to remove it. He wanted to help but he was pretty sure it wouldn't make a difference. He was nice enough to assist me with the selection of a sleek looking towel bar with two screws on each side. I also bought wall anchors, a can of WD40, extra screws and some stuff to repair the holes in the wall after I was through. Call me crazy but I had a hunch I would need it.
Once I returned home 2 hours later (Wal Mart is 4 miles away) it was time to hang some bar. Sounds pretty cool when you say it that way. It didn't take long to figure out you need a hammer to put in wall anchors. Well a couple of quick taps later and the anchors had disappeared behind the wall. I heard them fall all the way to the floor. Back to Wal Mart for more anchors and an entirely different type of towel bar. Back to the house, hammer in hand I proceed to knock my new wall anchors to the floor behind the wall as well. Time for plan B.
With my new towel bar I drilled two screws perfectly where they belonged. My new rack actually gleamed when I let go. I may have heard an angel sing, not sure. I proudly put my nicest towel over the bar and stood back just in time for it to crash to the floor. At this point the car that Sonny Corleone drove to the toll booth had less holes in it. And Sonny had a better chance of hanging that towel rack. I was done at that point.
So you see how lucky I am. If I were not so inept that it was funny I would be in real trouble. As it is, I merely just have to attempt handyman chores and laughter will ensue. Some assembly required? Could be, but it won't be me. I'll pay someone to put it together for me. It's my version of the stimulus package. I'm just doing my little part to keep the cash circulating. I'm sure I could put that bike together. 3 or 4 wheels. Details, details. Just let me know if you have anything that needs to be done around the house. If you need a laugh that is.

Till next......

I jumped right out of the second story window.....

and landed in the snow about 4 feet below my bedroom window. That was the winter of 1978 and the next to last one I spent at home in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. We had a record amount of snow that year and it was half way up the side of the house by Christmas. Being a 16 year old with raging hormones and a girlfriend there was not a house built strong enough to keep me in on Christmas eve. Combined with the fact that I had already embarked on a good drinking career I'm not sure my parents were trying that hard to keep me home. I probably could have walked out the front door and they would have thrown gas money at me.
The reason this memory crept into my mind is an upcoming trip back to the U.P. at Christmas time for the first time in 31 years. With my wife who is born and raised in Georgia (USA not Russia) and my two sons and a step daughter and step son. All who are true southerners or Texans. (There is a difference between the two which could fill another blog post entirely) Part of the reason for this journey of insanity is to let the kids and Scarlett (Georgia wife) see where I grew up. Let them meet the absolute great people that I was privileged enough to spend my childhood with. Experience a different part of the country, different weather and different accents eh. Play in the snow building snowmen and sledding and maybe even ice skating.
Something tells me that after 5 days of living the life that I grew up living they will understand gratitude. Because it's really, really cold outside and and you walk everywhere. No PlayStation's this trip. Guitar hero? Build a guitar out of snow and play to your hearts content kids. Do you all want to go to the Mall? Great it's 100 miles away in a blizzard so dress warm.
You all want to see a movie? Perfect. Only 10 miles away in the same blizzard. Go outside and play. No, that's not frostbite. Frostbite turns black, that's just a navy blue. Were you wearing two pairs of socks? (This was always a fall back question from my mom during frostbite discussions)
Scarlett and I will be standing at the window drinking hot chocolate and saying how cold it looks, like in that commercial. And I will not feel guilty. I have done my time in the snowbanks. I have shoveled until my shoulders ached. I have plugged in my car at night. I have actually had my eyelids freeze shut while walking home from a swim team practice. You think water boarding scares me? Ha! Is it frozen water? No, then bring it on. As long as I don't have to stand where it hurts to take a deep breath I am all good.
Thomas Wolfe said you can never go home again. I will prove him wrong in 10 short days. I will be going home again and bringing my whole family with me. What Mr. Wolfe missed in his writings is the obvious question if home is the U.P.. If it's the middle of winter, "Why would you want to go home again?"

Till next.......

Chasing the dream. Living the dream. Both?

What if they are one and the same? We are all born with a dream. For some it disappears quickly and quietly like a thief in the night. Barely leaving a footprint on the soft soil of our memory. On some days it seems like something is there but you can't see it, touch it, feel it or even describe it. But you know something is not just right. Something is left undone.

Then there are some of us where the dream is part of our fabric. You can't do anything that doesn't further the dream. Constantly moving toward that dream, sometimes consciously, other times not, but always heading toward it all the same. We could not get away from the dream if we wanted to. And we don't want to. It's what consumes us and gives us purpose. It defines us.

The problem that occurs time and time again is an unanswered question. When is the dream just a dream? I have known people who have chased their dream for years and still do. Sometimes those who don't share the dream think it to be a large waste of time. And if those are people around you it can cause some serious issues. Logic would dictate that if you have been chasing your dream for years with no success you should give up. But logic loses against faith every time. True faith really doesn't give a crap about logic. It's just in the way.

Is there a solution? I think there is and it's hiding in plain sight. What if the pursuit of your dream is living the dream? What if the success of the dream is just a by-product of the chase? What if the chase actually is the dream? What if your success is ultimately judged by how you pursued your dream? How you never gave up during times of doubt and kept moving forward?

It kind of changes the background of everything. One mans failure may not be. It may be a testament. Are we not suppose to keep our sights set on the higher things? Is a dream not higher than temporary triumphs here and now? Don't lose sight of that dream. It won't lose sight of you.

Till next......