'Oh. Well. Carry on then."

The man woke up to the sound of the coffee maker this morning, like he had done countless mornings before...

"Already?" he thought, as he tried to bring himself all the way awake.

In that, he failed, until the sound of the coffee maker got his attention again.
It sounded....wrong.

The man has a long, sordid history with coffee makers.  Much like how one can be unlucky in love, he has been unlucky in small household appliances.
But, similarly,  as one should not simply give up and turn their back on the chance of finding happiness; he always looked forward.
"This new coffee maker is gonna be THE ONE. It won't leak, it won't refuse to start, it won't stain my countertops.  THIS ONE... is special."

Anyhow, he came all the way awake (he thought) when he realized that the coffee maker didn't sound like it was functioning properly.   He heard the bubbling noise, but didn't hear the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot.
No sizzle as the heating element warmed up and burnt off the few drops of water that always congregated there.  
Maybe it's because he was lying on his good ear and wasn't hearing it properly...nope.  Something was definitely amiss.
And as "something amiss" and "coffeemaker" usually equalled "Huge ass mess", he sprung out of bed, padding across the cold floors in the dark toward the kitchen.

Where he realized it was only 12:15am.
And where his dog was finishing up a long, loud, drink of water.
"Oh.  Well.  Carry on then."

shit.

The man mentally shook his head at the sheer silliness of the situation, and stumbled back to bed.

Five hours later, the coffeemaker started as scheduled, and worked as promised.

"Why'd you get up to check on Lucy?"  his wife asked a short time later.
"Were you afraid she was out of water?"

Well, not exactly.....

Out with the bad air, in with the good. Out...In. Out....In........

Another one for the record books.

On paper, using broad strokes - not a bad year.

The devil's in the details, however.
And the details.... bastards, frequently.

Happy to be showing 2013 my backside as I move forward.

Look at my bum, Dennis!  look at it!  
And for those who got the old SNL Evening Update reference - you're old.  And I like you.

New Year's resolution - take up smoking.
Nope.  Made that up.

New Year's resolution - Accentuate the positive.

Work  to ensure that I do not, in a few short years, become the guy who screams "Get off my lawn!" at random passersby.
The guy who wins the lotto and bitches about how much he has to pay out of it in taxes.

Not sure what all it will take to NOT become the cane-waving curmudgeon that lurks inside, but I AM sure it's worth trying to figure out.

I believe it'll have a lot to do with remaining facing forward instead of looking back; suffering fools more painlessly until I'm not suffering them at all; and lots of.. accentuating the positive.

Appreciate the beauty and wonder and humor and love that comes my way in 1000 small ways, instead of allowing the negative stuff to clog my heart and mind, taking up too much of my time and energy.

So, suffering fools, accentuating the positive, and appreciating the little things.
And maybe medication.
We'll adopt a "wait and see" on the medication.....

More time outside, camping, fishing, walking...
More focus on little victories
More time making my daughter laugh
More time making sure my wife knows how great she really is
More time just... breathing.  In and out, focused on nothing else.

More time NOT worrying about the shit I can't change, of which there is legion.
Less time playing "What if _____" games with myself.  

Oh, and I'm going to try to learn how to play the guitar, and write more often.

Even if ultimately I do end up being the cane-waving curmudgeon, I'll be the cane-waving curmudgeon that can play Mull of Kintyre and Whole Wide World on the guitar, and turn a pithy phrase.
And I really think that will shine through, when I'm screaming "Get off my lawn!"

Take THAT, legion of crap I can't change!
In your face.

Wishing everyone a happy and positive 2014.  

Wish me luck.

Yay, puppies!

Had a shockingly good time listening to the news break on WXRT this morning, at 6:30.

Mary Dixon is enjoyable, do not get me wrong.  the shocking part is that all the news made me smile.

It was a banner news day in the medical / science field.

1.   One of the huge pharma companies is vowing to change how their reps are compensated.  No longer will they be given bonuses based on how many prescriptions their client doctors write.    Additionally, it sounds like the pharma company is drastically scaling back perks for physicians, junkets and trips and such.  This drastic change in direction has nothing at all to do with some huge legal issue they're having in China right now, we are assured.   Just a coincidence.

2.  The FDA is finally getting around to questioning the validity of anti-bacterial soap.   Seems perhaps the claims of the soap makers have never really been supported by research / science.    "Prove it" is the edict coming from the FDA.   Show proof that the anti-bacterial agents in the soap are providing benefit, without harm.  
A few days ago, they finally started voicing concern about gross overuse of antibiotics in factory beef and poultry farms.  Yay, FDA.   Glad to see you... still exist.

3.  Puppies.     A Study was done to show the effects of puppy hair and dander in the onset of asthma in  babies and toddlers.    Turns out - helpful!    Granted it was mice (no babies were harmed in completion of this study....), but the group subjected to puppies, hair and dander, had lower occurrence by far of asthma than did the group NOT exposed to... puppies.

Yay, puppies!

Yeah, I could spend a lot of time hunting down links to each of these stories for you, the reader.   But I' not gonna.  Google it if you want to learn more.  


So, pharma is on record as saying that they'll stop paying doctors to crank out prescriptions; the FDA is showing that they still... exist; and puppies make babies and toddlers healthier.

That, my friends, is a good news cycle.  

Tomorrow's another day.....

Christmas thoughts, 2013

Not saying there won't be more posts this month, but regardless....

Christmas season is upon us.
We fought it off until AFTER Thanksgiving.
See, by doing this, we could feel all good about ourselves and our priorities and values.
Oh, and because we really DO hate how Christmas has crept and spread until it's crowding Halloween.

I don't do great with Christmas, and I've spent countless time puzzling over it.

Because... it's a puzzle.  I like giving and receiving gifts, and my adult self has grown to appreciate the idea that they're physical manifestations of the love we have for one another.  It's not just a bauble or warm pajamas or the right book.  It's the effort, and the understanding of what makes the people in my life tick, what makes them smile, makes them.... them.  See I pay attention, and you're worth the effort...

And in turn, I'm shown the same thing.  And I'm grateful for the people in my life for which I put in the effort, and they - me.   I can't imagine how this season would be if I didn't have them.

I love being a Dad and a Husband on Christmas morning.   I longed to be a dad for so many years, and I've not yet taken the fact that I finally get to be one, for granted.

And so I struggle to not let the crowds and the chaos and the chore list and the stress and everything else get the better of me, year in and year out.  Every year I work hard to make sure that I do not lose sight of what Christmas is all about, and about what it means to me and my family.

But, Fuck.

People, mankind... they really know how to mess up a good party.
People getting stabbed, fighting over towels at Walmart.
Folks waiting for you to get done with your insane-ass midnight shopping, so they can steal your purchases and go home.
Shoplifters shutting a cop's arm in a car door and starting to drive off until they take one in the shoulder.
Over $50 worth of clothes from Kohl's...
Last year it was people stepping over a dying man.
A few years back, the first year it seemed we all truly crossed some line, it was footage of some old woman getting trampled outside a Grand Rapids area Walmart on friday morning, while trying to keep her bad wig in place.
West Michigan - REPRESENT!!    

And it's become so commonplace that we're not even outraged any more.    Jesus, we should be....

"Oh, the bad drunk's crying about nothing and hanging on everyone and trying to goad people into wrestling and will either pass out or throw up or both in the next little bit..."  and we just roll our eyes and try not to get too close as he starts the big fade.
It's a big party, live music, great food, lot's going on...
But he somehow becomes the story every time, just the same.

The story.... The media's complicit in this crime against my soul.   They're the ones keeping the spotlight on the drunk at the party.  Hey everyone, look at this guy acting the same way he acts every time there's a party.  But keep looking!  Over here!!!  Looky!!!!

I was watching Elf the other night.
(Gotta watch the first christmas movie of the season after putting up the tree and decorating the house.)

And, not surprisingly, I got a bit choked up at the end, when the crowd began singing christmas carols, causing Santa's sleigh to fly solely under the power of christmas spirit....

While this scene always seems to effect me, it's nothing compared to Scrooged, when Bill Murray gives his big speech at the end.  You know the scene.  It's a good 'un.

These are expertly crafted pieces of storytelling, designed to tug on heart strings. And they succeed.
Niagra Falls, Frankie Angel.....

But then I find myself with a lump in my throat, watching some FB posted video, of a flash mob in a crowded mall, breaking into christmas carols.   Not because of the singing, but because of the huge crowd's gradual change from self-involved hyper consumers, to... people.  Real freakin' people. The mall grows quiet, people stop moving, and let themselves be taken over by the moment.

And I'm finally able to verbalize the underlying issue.

I want that.
That moment, that epiphany, when everyone realizes that it feels soooo damn good to get out of your own head and out of your own way for a few minutes.  To put aside your own selfish agenda, and simply be part of some organic life-affirming moment.  The people who happened to be at the mall that day, didn't go home and tell everyone about the drunk at the party.
"You'll never guess what happened.... it was beautiful... "

My god, but I want that.   I ache for it.  

And if the opportunity to have it presents itself, I can only hope that my mind and heart are open to it.


This is my christmas wish this year.
For myself, and for all of you.

Anti-Santa and the best christmas ever.

Seems I've been remiss of late.   It's been nearly 3 months since I last published anything.
I've been busy, you see.
Life does that.   When you're not watching, it fills up your waking hours with stuff.
Who'm I kidding?  It does so while you watch.

But I've been hiding my light under a bushel, and not sharing it, which must stop now.

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.  This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine....
Enjoy the ear worm.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine....



Life fills your waking hours with stuff......


The idea of "Stuff" came to mind today, When Wendy came in from the mailbox, holding a pile of holiday catalogs.      I ignore them, by and large.   fiona LOVES them.   Wendy largely is apathetic, but will leaf through a couple, and think about stuff.  New stuff for the house, or for Fiona.

"Like we need more stuff..."  she said.

And THAT begat chit chat, which in turn begat... The Anti-Santa.

"What we need is less stuff." I said.

Wendy started laughing.
"Imagine THAT letter to Santa."

Not santa, we eventually decided.   Filling our christmas wish would require the actions of...
The Anti-Santa.

A skinny middle aged guy in blue coveralls.  He flies through the night on christmas eve in a magic dilapidated pick up truck, unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth,  going to the homes of all the good adults, and hauling away unwanted... stuff.

You write him a letter.

Dear Anti-Santa, I've been a good husband, father, and corporate lackey this year, yadda yadda, and for christmas this year I'd really like you to come take away all my shit.  Here's an itemized list...   hugs and kisses, your pal.......

You put out a Bud Light and some beef jerky on christmas eve, and hope for the best.

You wake up the next morning and find your bedside table is free of clutter, and you know it's gonna be the best christmas ever.

You've got two almost empty book cases in the basement all the sudden. Your clothes closet is roomier.  All the left over paint and nuts and bolts and nails and acoustic tiles and such - gone.     The stuff from your camping supplies that you've not used since 1997 - gone, baby.   Your cassette and vhs tapes - history.

You get really excited, run out to the garage and throw open the door.   It's... beautiful!   You peek through the passenger side window of your car, and see all the gum wrappers and pen caps and pebbles and crumbs.... all gone.   All of it.
For christmas this year, you received....space.  and order.  and peace of mind.  At minimal effort and inconvenience to yourself.

And it is good, so very good.  


If you're an adult.
We would need to fight the urge to keep Anti-Santa away from my daughter's stuff.
She's not to the point in life yet where she'd appreciate Anti-Santa.

It would, in fact, likely result in a future santa-related incident that would get us all banned for life from boy scout pancake breakfasts, or the mall.

Banned for life from the mall?!?!?!?   hmmm......



.........

Mid-life Crisis

Claire Colburn:  [voice over] Some music *needs* air. Roll down your window

-From the movie Elizabethtown


I've been experiencing a mid-life crisis of late.

I've started listening to music and bands for which I had no use, 30 years ago.

Loudly, in my car.   

Specifically, ACDC and Rush.

Those of you that are fans are all "Yeah, so?  cool!"

But I'm.... not a fan.

Except I sort of am, now.

Not "go see 'em live next tour" fan.  or even "Snap up their back catalog on iTunes" fan.

But, if I happen upon Limelight or New World Man or Highway to Hell or Thunderstruck when surfing the pre-sets, I no longer keep going.

I stop.

And turn it way up.

And, weather permitting, roll down the window.
On truly special days, I'll open the sun roof.

Sometimes music DOES need airing out.   Kirsten Dunst was right.

I do not know how this has come to be.
I expect, in large part, it's due to what I CAN'T expect to hear, when pre-set surfing.  If Husker Du, Chris Whitley, The Jayhawks or The Replacements were on the radio regularly, I'd likely not be writing this.  
But the aren't.
For whatever reason, one day I said "nope" and kept hitting the buttons when I came across Freewill, but the next day I didn't.

So, there I am, middle aged guy, blasting Rush out of the open windows of his car, kids booster seat, granola bar wrappers, stuffed dog and a single glove from last winter, loose in the back seat.

Of COURSE I'm singing along.

(Turns out I already knew most of the lyrics, having picked them up via osmosis somehow, 30 years ago.)

I can live with that, I think. To hell with the other cars around me at the stop lights.

They can sing their own songs...

But I WILL continue to blow past Zep, Floyd and the Nuge, without hesitation.

Gotta have standards.

Can you please describe him?

So, I'm sitting on an off ramp yesterday afternoon, on my way to pick Fiona up from day "camp".

I've just exited southbound I-294, and am toward the back of a long line of folks waiting for the light to turn green.  
I was quite surprised, to see someone riding their bicycle toward, and then past me, continuing on toward the highway itself.

"Well."  I said aloud, a habit I need to be more careful about, "That's f*cked up."

Thought about it for a few seconds as the light turned green and traffic started to move, and then dialed 911.

Explained what was going on to the operator, who responded with "Can you describe him?"
Uh, sure.   He's the kid riding a bicycle along the shoulder of an interstate.  Duh.   You need to narrow that down further?
"Oh, if he's no longer on the road, but on the interstate, I'll have to pass you to the State Police."
Well, I'm not charting his progress, but... do what you need to do.    And she did
And they answered, and I explained that there's a kid, probably 13-14 years old, riding his bike northbound on a southbound exit ramp, toward the actual interstate.

"Can you describe him, and his bike?"
Uh, sure.  HE'S THE KID RIDING HIS BIKE, A TWO WHEELER if that helps, ON THE #$^W$%&#$&% INTERSTATE!!!!"

I, for many reasons, did not actually respond in this manner.
But it made me think.   What if the police, while responding to my call,  came across someone else riding their bike ON THE #$%^$#%& INTERSTATE, NOT the kid I described?

"Oh, hey, Burt - up ahead on the right.  someone's on a bike."
"Yeah, Ernie, wait.. wait.. never mind.  it's a girl, and the bike's the wrong color." and they drive by, letting her continue on un-challenged.

Last summer, I was walking the dog around 8p, and when I did the lap around the school and the field next to it, I see two high school age kids park their car behind a classroom trailer, so that it's not visible from the street. They got out and walked over to a drain pipe that was mounted on the school wall.  One kid's in an overcoat, the other kid's got a video camera.   As I watched, they started looking around, and looking up the drainpipe at the roof of the school.   The kid in the overcoat was tentatively tugging on the pipe as I walked around the corner, out of sight.

I called 911, they asked nature of my call, I explained to them what was going on.

"Can you describe any of them?"

Uh, sure.  One of them WILL BE STANDING ON THE ROOF OF THE SCHOOL IN AN OVERCOAT!!!!  Hopefully he will not have removed the overcoat, as then he'll just be a kid STANDING ON THE ROOF OF THE SCHOOL WITHOUT AN OVERCOAT, and the police will let him go, because they're only looking for a kid on the roof of a school wearing an overcoat.....

I know all about phone protocols and procedures, and why you don't necessarily want the person who answers the phone when you're reporting a crime or an emergency to wing it, improv-style.

I GET it.     But that doesn't mean I can't laugh at the stupidity of the questions, in these particular situations....

Conversely... 15 years ago, when I was living in MS, we got whacked, HARD, by hurricane Georges.
The news stories that came out after the storm were, occasionally, some real gems.
One of which has remained with me.  

There were repots of emus, escaped from god knows where, running around in peoples yards and fields in Bay St. Louis, and the police and animal control were called in to capture them.
There was question as to whether or not the police and animal control folks new the physical attributes of an emu.
"Well, no, not really." was the approximate response from the police department.
  But I'm pretty sure we'll know it if we come across any of them."

Awesome.



"911, what's your emergency?"

I'm headed northbound on I-57, near 159th street, and a car just pulled off the road, because it was on fire.

Can you describe the vehicle?

Uh, I'm pretty sure I just did.....