Magic Boots

Apple-picking-with-friends-on-a-sleety-fall-Saturday-boots.

Tending-the-chickens-in-a-downpour-boots.

Mow-forever-boots.

Walk-through-anything-with-feelings-of-indestructibility-boots.

These:

For the last 25+ years, boots have, for want of a better term, been a big deal for me.  Started to realize their importance in my life while in college, after studying was done for the night or the week, and I found myself in places perhaps I should not have been, late at night, with friends.
Boots = adventure.  Or more accurately, they equalled a feeling of indestructibility while on those adventures.   I was 10 feet tall, impervious to anything that may harm me, and the earth trembled as I stomped upon it.
And that, my friends, was a great feeling.   Which likely explained in part the big grin I'd usually be sporting, whenever the late night adventures took place.

They say that youth have no sense of their own mortality, of being... breakable.
I was not one of those kids.   I never took being in one piece for granted.   I lived and moved with greater caution than many of my peers, often to my own detriment. I moved with reservation, while they plowed forward without pause.   Guess who was frequently a step or two behind as a result...
Which made the boots, THE BOOTS!!!! - so special.   I was stomping the earth late at night with friends, I was a giant, no longer a mere mortal.  Let's climb...THAT!!!!  Now!!!!

And, so.... boots.   Ever since.   and I beat the hell out of them before finally replacing them, every time.

This is one of the the things I wish for my daughter, as she grows up - boots.  Real or metaphorical, I don't really care which.  She's shaping up to be much like I was, a bit more physically cautious than her peers; letting the worry of potential injury and pain keep her from doing things, things that many of the other kids do without thought.    And while the nervous dad in me is glad of this on some levels, he also remembers what it was like to be... her.

Of course I want her to make intelligent choices and never completely eschew caution.  But I also want her to have the feeling of stomping the earth, the sublime pleasure of looking down and laughing at just how high you've climbed without once stopping to think about it.  
"Holy crap!  That's a long way down!  This is so cool....."

It's just so damn important to feel that way once in awhile.

I get the middle-aged version of this now, living where I do.  
Mud?  Screw mud.
Rainstorms?
Cold, wet, mess?
Time to mow the biggest yard God ever made, known to have... critters lurking within?
Lost the trail?
"Screw them, too." He says, slipping into his boots.

And when i combine them with these:

The world trembles before me.....

As I hope it will tremble before my daughter, at least once in awhile.


 

Mother Nature is, indeed, a Mother.....

So, here I sit.
Sunday evening, at the dinner table, waiting for the wife and the daughter to finish their veggie burgers.

The winding down of what was supposed to be a very full, very satisfying weekend full of family and social opportunities.  
God laughs, and mother nature is, indeed, a mother.

Spent way too much time at the grocery after work on friday, stocking up for company and Super Bowl parties and such.  My GOD, I even bought....meat.   
Woke up saturday morning to phone calls about winter storms.... I used to be on top of this sort of thing.  
Now I'm asking my sister in Chicago - So, how much snow am I supposed to get here?
Really?  That much???

Mother Nature, is indeed... a mother.

So, no company, no quality time with what are hands down some of our very favorite people. On the plus side, we might not have cleaned as much yesterday, as we would have if the weather forecast had not been so... un-encouraging.

No family get together to celebrate my dad's birthday today.  No all going to church together (it's his birthday, and all he asked for...) and to lunch afterwards.  No heading back out to a Super Bowl party, hosted by someone we befriended just last weekend.  Would have been great to have been able to follow up on that initial connection, as we continue to try to re-establish a satisfying social life here.

Nope, 24 hours of snow instead!  Whoo Hoo!

Rudi Gunn: But I was hoping to meet a girl on the Australian trip! 

Al Giordino: No, African war zone; ship of death!

Looking out the window into the snowy dusk, and lamenting fact that Wendy and I have shoveled our huge ass driveway twice today, and you can't hardly tell at all.   I try not to think of it as a metaphor with larger life relevancy.   That was an awful lot of work with not much to show for it... 

Mother nature.... well.  You know.  

So, we shovel, and eat a meal, and watch a movie, and shovel, and eat a meal and... probably watch another movie...  If Fiona finishes her veggie burger on time.   Not as advertised...

While it was not as advertised, the weekend was not a complete loss.

My dad still came over for dinner last night, because "someone's gotta help you eat all that food you bought...".   He turned 72 on friday, and is so much healthier than he was when he turned 71.  We got to sit and chat and be relaxed around each other, instead of me worrying about his immediate future.  We put a candle on a cupcake for him, and sang him happy birthday, and I had a moment of just being really glad to be able to do it.  If you had ask me a year ago.... there were concerns....

Maybe mother nature's not all bad.  

Got a lot of left over cupcakes, though.....

Random thoughts - Christmas 2014

Almost let Christmas slip by this year, without the annual random Christmas thoughts post.

I’m sure all of you are breathing a huge sigh of relief now.

Whew.  That was close!

So, this is our first Christmas in the old farmhouse, and the first Christmas as MI residents since…1996.  Back then, we were living in a converted chicken coop, the guest house belonging to some very nice Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Lovely folks who did not make us sign a lease nor pay a security deposit, but were not much help with questions like “where’s a good place to cut down a Christmas tree around here?” 

(But WAS good to find out that Christmas is unofficially “Jehovah’s Day” at the local ski-slopes.)   

Little did we know that we were going to be living in Mississippi less than six months later. 

Last Christmas, we had every idea that we would remain in Illinois for the long haul.  First rounds of negotiations with my current employer had not ended fruitfully.  I had not yet been contacted about a different job, which begat all the subsequent rounds of negotiations.

Little did we know…

                I’ve written papers on “Little did he know.” I’ve taught classes on “Little did he know.” I    once  gave an entire seminar based upon “Little did he know.” Sonofabitch, Harold. “Little did he        know” means there’s something he did not know. That means there’s something you don’t know. Did you know that?   - Professor Jules Hilbert from Stranger Than Fiction

I’ve been working the new job like a goddam house elf the last two months or so.  10-11 hour days are more often than not the case.  It’s easy to not give holidays and ones’ own birthday much thought, when this happens. Or anything that may be fun, for that matter, if it involves leaving the house during the brief time you are actually there....

Until you realize you’re not giving enough time and energy to the stuff – the GOOD stuff, the things that are supposed to help keep life in balance when you’re working like a g.d. house elf, and perhaps it's time to take a step back, and work on that a bit...

I’m so ready for Christmas this year.  I’m not struggling to find meaning, to make the day special, to psych myself up for something that should, in all honesty, not require self-psyching.   

“Geezus, dude. It’s CHRISTMAS.  How hard can it be?”

And… you’d be right.   It’s not hard this year.     

And I hope that I can take this step forward, this momentum, and carry it forward, into the new year, embracing new friendships and new opportunities for growth and for personal satisfaction, the stuff – the GOOD stuff, the things that are supposed to help keep life in balance…

But I don’t want to look too far ahead.  Right now it’s all about waking up without an alarm on Christmas eve, having an extra cup of coffee, and making breakfast for my wife and daughter, knowing that gifts are set, plans are set, my computer won’t be on for 48 hours, and all I have to worry about is how best to fill my day with fun-for-everyone idle pursuits….

And then waking up Christmas morning, watching my daughter open her presents while sipping on a cup of coffee, and then asking the age-old question – Pancakes or waffles? 

Merry Christmas, everyone.  Enjoy your time with your family and friends. Relish that extra cup of coffee.  Appreciate the people in your life that seem to inexplicably appreciate you.    Embrace the good stuff.

sunny sunday fall morning….

I was cleaning up dishes in the kitchen, looking out my window at a squirrel sitting on an old wooden fence post, under a dilapidated apple tree, bright fall sunshine illuminating the squirrel's tail and left half of it's body,  the field behind it still shiny with remains of morning frost.
The smell of apple pancake baking in the oven.

And it was good. Hell, it was GREAT!

Until the goddamn dog started barking at the front window, yanking me harshly from my autumnal reverie.

I yelled at her to stop, always a fruitless endeavor (but sometimes I like to yell), as I walked into the living room to forcibly remove her from the window.

Immediate problem solved, I stared out the window, through the semi-bare branches of the old trees that   are scattered across my front yard.    There was a deer in our front yard, wandering out into the road.

A doe and her two fawns have been frequent visitors to the yard, and the neighboring fields since we moved in back in June.  We've found ourselves urging them across the street more than a couple of times on weekend mornings, as there's a 90 degree curve just up the road, and people tend to come around it far faster than they should.
"Come on… cross the road!!!!"

This morning, it appeared to be the doe, by herself. wandering across our yard, stopping in the middle of the road, just to add an element of suspense and alarm to my morning.

Turns out, she was waiting for the kids to catch up.   And then there were three.. wait… four… five  SIX of them, all in the middle of Riverview drive, wandering aimlessly across the street, and into the yard by the old barns and storage area across the street.   And, as one, they all took off in a run, shining copper in the morning sun, as they flew across the just-harvested soy bean field.

And it was good.    Hell, it was great!

The buzzer just went off, time to pull breakfast out of the oven….

How a hike in the woods and drive in the country can develop into a metaphor about ones' life, or some such nonsense.

Had a great evening, yesterday.  

Got out of work on time, got home quickly… even the radio was cooperating, playing great music for most of my ride.    (See old post about listening to RUSH on the radio...)

Changed from frumpy business casual to “F*ck the sweat and bug spray” hiking clothes, and we were parking the Subaru at the trail head by 4:30.   

Hiked a trail I’ve walked many times before, but not for many years.   Laughed with my wife about past trips, and how the…. ambiguous trail markers had led to some unexpectedly long hikes.   Only to come upon the very same trail markers, afresh.

The addition of a crappily drawn and copied trail map, courtesy of the state park, did not exactly clarify things.   But long-dormant memories of the geography, and of past mis-steps, won the day, and it worked out largely how I pictured it would. 

80 minutes of woods and inclines and peace... nice.

Took a minor detour on our drive home.  Swung through the metropolis that is Shelbyville, MI. 

We last lived in MI, before 2 months ago, in 1997, spending 1.5 years renting a converted chicken coop from a very nice family of Jehovah’s Witnesses there. 

 Cows woke us up on weekends; a walk around the block took 45 minutes; and we had to be careful to determine if the electric fences were turned on, whenever we’d go for a walk in the fields around the house.    It was an awesome time, and we loved it.

The fields are now either grown over, or dotted with new homes.  We could not even see our old house from the road, because all the trees and shrubs and such are 17 years older than they were, then.   You CAN go home again, but there are no guarantees that you'll be able to find it.... 

The place had evolved, in other words. Shocker…. 

Nature does that.  It changes, grows, evolves.

Which led my wife to state “My god, I hope WE’VE evolved.”     

And we have.  A huge amount, and mostly in positive ways.    We’re financially fairly stable, and have a great kid.  I’m working at a job I could not have dreamed of, 17 years ago.   My wife’s obtained a masters degree, and found a line of work for which she’s passionate.

We’ve worked hard over the last 17 years! 

And we live a healthier lifestyle, though my weight’s almost exactly what it was when I was 29 years old. (Not bragging, for sure.  Have you SEEN me?)   

But it’s possible we dream about the future less, now that our NOW is closer to what we USED to dream about.  I know I’m guilty of that.  

“What do I want to be when I finally grow up” has changed to the knowledge that, to my surprise, I’m a grown up.   Need to work on the dreaming part a bit, for sure.     

We used to have a fairly steady stream of guests. Wherever we lived, we had a steady stream of friends and (and increasingly their dates) showing up on our doorsteps with a gym bag and beer money and not much else.  This went well with our questionable leisure time activities and night (and occasionally day) time adventures.   

All of THEIR lives have evolved in positive ways as well, so it makes sense that our guest beds don’t get the use they once did.   Still miss the guests and the vibe tho’.    The hangovers and dumbovers - not so much.

Our NOW lives, while overall more healthy and secure and less cluttered with questionable leisure time activities, is not as close-to-the-bone as it used to be.   We used to get by with…not much, and we used to be pretty good at it.    Not sure if we could still do it as successfully, and fear having to find out.

And, as odd as it may sound, being broke and living hand-to-mouth in the middle of nowhere;  driving 20+ miles to a shit-paying job I hated everyday while Wendy was in nursing school – Far LESS stressful than my life FEELS, now.  I guess having absolutely nothing to lose took the edge off, back in the day, although I know there were moments….

But we’re smarter, and more responsible, and safer, and we’re parents, so the net positive evolution is certainly substantial.

Take a walk, take a drive and check out your old life. Hopefully you’ll be able to see it through the overgrowth and new construction and be able to navigate the old trails in spite of the ambiguous markers.

Remember to give yourself props for how far you’ve come.    But don’t overlook the positives you left behind, and give some thought as to how you can gather them up and find space for them still today.

Or some such nonsense....

Is Comcast the worst company in the whole wide world?

The world's a big place, but they're up there toward the top.......

It seemed simple enough.

He writes, laughing bitterly.

I’m just going to call Comcast and cancel my service, and have them pick up my equipment, because, hey – I’m moving.   And they don’t offer service at my new address.

Easy peasy.     So I called them, and the cust. Service (he laughs bitterly again at that title) rep. was very helpful.  Of course we’ll take care of that sir.    But it’ll be $200 dollars for tech. to come out to your house to pick up the equipment, as it’ll be considered a service call.

WTF?      Ok…   Option B was drive 55 blocks into dodgy part of S. Chicago when I didn’t have time to do so, and drop them off…. 

Option C – We’ll be happy to send you a kit sir, with box and pre-paid postage labels, and you can just drop everything off at UPS.     SWEET!!!

Until the kit never shows up.  And I end up driving all my equipment to the new house.

Only to find that the nearest Comcast location is 30 miles away.    

My phone rings on Saturday, June 21.   Why, it’s… COMCAST!      A service guy.  Seems he saw my for sale sign on the old house, and wanted to know if we were transferring service, or if we would like them to come pick up the equipment.    Told him I tried to schedule that, but balked at the $200 price tag.

“$200?  No sir, we don’t charge for picking up our equipment.”   And he offered to come by the old house, where no one was living at the time, and pick it up….  Nope.     But hey, could you find out what happened to my “kit”?       No sir, not my job.   Call customer service…

Yesterday, I received a terse, automated, text message on my phone.

“We want our shit back, please give it to us”.   Or something close to that. 

So I call customer service (he continues to laugh bitterly at this designation).

Sergio was not very customer service-y.    “Your account’s closed sir, so I can’t see notes on what may or may not have been offered to you.”    No problem, just send me the #$$% kit.

“Oh, I can’t do that, because your account’s closed, and you’ve changed addresses.”

Huh?

“We can only send those to the billing address, prior to the account closing.” 

“So, y’all did the job halfway with my initial phone call, and are refusing to fix your eror?”   F*ck that, put a supervisor on the line, please.

Sergio became snide, told me I could wait 20 minutes to talk to one, but he guaranteed me that they’d give me the same answer.  And he was smirking, I could it tell, even over the phone.

Options?

Drive to Battle Creek

Go on-line and print out labels and mail our stuff back to us.

At least I spent 20+ minutes of my life finding this out, time I will never get back...

So I attempted to print out labels this morning, only to find that…. I can’t print out labels, because my account’s closed and I’ve changed addresses.      

(Note to self, if I ever meet Sergio, I will have to beat him severely, while smirking)

So I find a # to the Battle Creek location, and… I’m on the phone with customer service call center again.

Please tell me what the problem is sir. 

Your rude unhelpful customer service folks are the problem.   

Ok, let me transfer you to customer service. 

“Wait, wait!  Just please, PLEASE provide for the phone # to the Battle Creek location. A # that will actually be answered by someone there.”

“What’s your last name again sir, so that I can pull up your account?”   

 It doesn’t matter!!!!!!!! A phone number!!! That’s it!!!!!!

Finally, after 17 minutes of being put on hold and explaining everything to her again in hopes that she might help, only to be assured that she could not, She coughed up the #.

So, 4-5 lengthy phone conversations, bad information regarding equipment pick up, half-completed account closing, No kits, rude dooshbags name Sergio... 2.5 weeks of playing silly buggers, and the net result is feeling good about getting a non 800#.

Which I dialed, relieved to be done with them.  The battle creek office will answer, I can verify that they’ll take the equipment, I won’t waste a huge trip, and I’ll be done with them all!  Yay!!!!!!

“Habitat!”   

huh?

“Is this comcast?”

“No, this is Habitat, you must have the wrong#.”   

Of course I do.

feeling adrift, and dinner with four guys named Jim.

So, last night I ate dinner with four guys named Jim.    Apparently, there's a 5th guy named Jim, but he no-showed....

When I was introduced around, I flashbacked to many dorm cafeteria dinners with 4-5 girls named Kim.  Only the Jims are WAY older, and not as pretty and have had way more life experiences than the 5 kims had at the time.

Come to think of it, I’ve just described myself…

Pork chops, I think.  (Not really versed on pork, heard tell of a large piece of pork, cut into 5/8 inch thick pieces..)  Baked beans, Miller Lite, some desert thingy that’s actually not bad for you, we were told, because it’s made entirely of sugar free / fat free alternatives to…real ingredients.

Did not need to know that last part...

And I had a nice time, all things considered, sitting at the picnic table; eating pork chops off a Styrofoam plate; making polite conversations with the aforementioned Jims and others who all get together once a week to share food and stories.   One of the folks there knows a lot about my new house and the history of the neighbors, and the name of the lady for whom the home was likely built, over a hundred years ago...   That was worth the price of admission, right there.... 

I hope to do so again, at least 1-2 more times this summer.    

In a way I would not have predicted, it actually helped me to feel like I belong… someplace.    A little less like I’m not 100%... anywhere at the moment.     

I’ve been floating on a bubble of temporary… everything for way too long,  so much so that the smallest thing, food with strangers as an example, feels significant.

 Last week it was a new library card, granted me outside of proof-of-residency guidelines, because… I know a guy.

Hope to be in my new home, with the things that make a house a home, like… my wife and daughter and my stuff, in less than 30 days.   Then, perhaps, I’ll feel like I actually belong someplace, one place,  all the way.  That will be a very good feeling.

Hey, if you’re gonna dream, dream big.