Gruel, Andy Dufresne, and a scary halloween story.

Namaste, magnificent beasts. 

It's Saturday morning, my daughter's still asleep, I've got a half cup of extremely good coffee...

Let's drive it like it's stolen.

 

That sounds so badass.  Time to underwhelm.

 First, a scary tale.

 

It's Halloween. and the election's in 4 days, and there's a pandemic, and I wake up most days and say a little prayer that my job will last another couple years, at least.  

Boo!   scary!  

But it's the reality on the ground.  It's our world, at the moment.  And I'm no longer limber enough to bend far enough over to stick my head all the way into the ground, so...

After two straight nights of insomnia, I gave up Thursday morning, sneaking out of bed and bedroom in hopes that my absence would secure my girlfriend another hour or two of sleep.

I was scheduled to work a 2nd shift on the factory floor later in the day, - conscripted more accurately. And still had to keep on top of the job they actually pay me to do. 

Which meant that this little experiment in keeping production costs down was fucking up my third daughter weekend in a row.   While I understand the logic behind the decision, I don't have to like it.

I just have to show up. 

At least the physical recovery time has gotten better.   I'm not sore for days any more....

Being sad and exhausted and dreading the day to come, is not necessary the best time to reflect on one's life, as it turns out.

the things you learn.

"Thin".

That's what I came up with, eyes welling up, on the couch the other morning at 5:30.  Judge if you want.  Glass houses and all that....

 

Life's gotten kinda of fucking thin, this year. 

The spices and herbs and yummy chunks of things are missing from the stew.

Anyone else dealing with this? 

betcha.

The stuff that used to balance the other stuff is simply absent now.  And the potential new stuff is like... artificial sweetener.  a veggie burger patty.  Little Ceasar's pizza....

virtual FB live concerts, church via zoom...  a hundred other similar things....

They are what they are, but they're not like the "real things" they're replacing.

So it's all starting to feel a little gruel-y.   Or more likely, it's been getting gruel-y for awhile, and I simply noticed and gave it a name.

So:  "Thin" - anyone?

Conversely, anyone else, besides my anti social hermit friends, feel like their lives have become full, compared to 10 months ago?    Or at the very least, NOT LESS full? 

Concerts and restaurants and hugs and church with real people and beers with friends and.....  anyone happy to be done with all of THAT?

Gruel is not the comfort, that stew was.   And it's a time right now where feeling comforted is a lot harder to come by than it used to be.  

Anyone wanna toss me an amen on that one? 

• But my morning of discontent is 48 hours old. 
• my daughter is awake  (subs "what's for breakfast?" for "good morning" sometimes, but I'll keep her).  I'm happy with the time I DO have with her this weekend.
• sun's out
• coffee's phenomonal
• Girlfriend and I will be safely socializing with others later.  maybe playing a little guitar around a fire
• Girlfriend. 💜💜💜   
• fall splendor

Maybe not too gruel-y after all...

 

I've had constant reminders the last couple of weeks, about what happens when you give up.

when you simply stop bothering.   Whether by intent or by gradual accident.

A never-ending cautionary tale, if you will.

It shook the shit out of me, to say the least, and continues to.

 

        "Guess it comes down to a simple choice.  Get busy living, or get busy dying." 

 

Not such a simple choice for everyone, as it turns out.    But for me....

I accept the gruel.  mmmm…. Gruel.  more please!  

And I will continue to work toward thickening  and flavoring it up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lindsey graham. cracker. whatever.

Yeah, so about 8.5 years ago, I had lunch with Lindsey Graham.

What a great first line. It just pulls you the fuck IN.

My gig at the time was all about the northern border. There were northern border trade conferences twice annually, In DC and Ottawa. (possibly the most beautiful city in North America)

Lindsay was our lunchtime entertainment, in DC, mere weeks after I started the gig. It was sponsored by TransCanada.   Lindsey was snake-oil oil salesman that day, in the charming, vaguely condescending southern way he used to have... You just wanted to sit close so you could hand him a fresh napkin every couple minutes when he soaks the previous one in drool.

It could have gotten way darker, way faster.   You're welcome.

He was positively gleeful about... Chavez(I think) in Brazil's recent announcement that he had terminal cancer…. OIL!!!!!! precious glorious Oil.... napkin, please.

tar sands...pipeline....dammit. napkin!!!

You're welcome, again.    Goddam, you've already got your money's worth.

Anyhow, he wasn't really on my political radar before then.  But since I met the guy, and watched him in action, I started paying attention, and have continued to do so.

I liked him, when he was voice or reason Robin to McCain's VOR Batman.  how could you not like an occasional voice of reason on the right, when such things were becoming damn scarce?

 

But then batman got sick, and eventually died, reclaiming some maverick kharma points, on his way out.

And Robin, without a benefactor, and without an alpha male to be brave with, didn't know what to do.

Solo, he was kinda on the small side, and not used to playing the lead role...

Alright, midstream, without warning, I'm gonna switch to a different metaphor or analogy or comic book parable or whatever I was on about, above.

Ready?

 

                    It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal. - AA Milne

Need a sec? The rest of us will wait for you.  

We're all cool AF.

 

I think it was in a Dale Carnegie class, where I learned that all the 100 acre wood cast, could be found in a professional setting.   I dissented on their notion, however, that Eeyore was a bad guy. if you've ever read the original stories... he's just so awesome...

Mr. Graham, is... Piglet.   And it was easier for him to be brave, when he had pooh. And when he no longer had pooh, and being that he was very small, he cast about, and found... tigger's psycho uncle.

I dunno.  sometime analogies are hard and stuff.

But i'm pissed.  Not like, hop up and down and make a ruckus- pissed, but more "this fucking guy needs a napkin" pissed.  he's drooling again.   if you're lucky.

See, the seemingly endless depths of hypocrisy undertook boldly and right in your face by some southern elected officials is... mind boggling. Smile for the camera.

I thought, for a few years there, that he was better than that. 

Turns out... It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal. 

a weak, small animal.

 

 

 

Pod Dad In Pants.

So, today I'm Pod dad, for first time.
And I'm working from home.
And my daughter spent the night, so I was all NOT pod dad, waking her up at a set time for the first time in many months to get ready.

Turns out, she's kinda gotten used to waking up whenever.
Weird.

I have a good handle on my focus issues, overall.
Once in a great while, I find myself (sometimes literally) spinning in circles, when the inputs are too great.
Last time this happened, was when I was trying to unpack everything, after moving into my house a year ago.
So many things, which one to do first, wait I don't know where power strip is so I can't unpack what I planned to unpack yet, and.... we're spinning... we're spinning...
    
              circles....my head is going 'round in circles, my mind is caught up in a whirpool, dragging  me down.....

Pete Townshend knows stuff.

So, yeah. This morning. Not a great look for me.

Thank god I've a small, efficient little house. means walking back and forth NOT getting stuff done doesn't take very long.....

I do generally get there, eventually.

Daughter had breakfast and was wearing clothes and had fresh breath by the time the other kids showed up.

car's half packed for my weekend away, which starts as soon as the kids leave.

I'd still like to get some more things accomplished in the next two hours, but have happily arrived at the point where I dont HAVE to.
Kids worked for almost an hour. then we had gym class. (walked 'round the 'hood for 30 minutes). Then the next hour, and then grilled cheese sandwiches.
  Cuz... duh. Grilled cheese sammies..

My two 8th graders have crazy amount of work, via the virtual learning academy.
My 4th grader was done in an hour, and will be self-studying german language once lunch break is over.

I love these kids.
Mine, for obvious reasons, and the others cuz they've been part of our lives for 4 years.
They were talking about being honorary siblings on our walk. They're not wrong.

So I try to get work done, without lobbing F bombs at my laptop constantly. It's not natural for me, after the last 6 or so months.
Neither are.. pants.
And apparently, drumming frenetically on my desk is "distracting".
whatever.
whiners.
New Normal... constantly evolving.
And if it means I can't motherfuck my laptop while not wearing pants, one day a week... i'll gladly make the sacrifice, if it helps keep the kids I love safe.     

Covid bookends. You, too?

action....

"Covid caused my favorite coffee place to close down. And they've now reopened, but with reduced hours.
Which is too bad, because now that I'm working from home, because of covid…."

Hits self in head with palm of hand.
Again.

and...scene.

Covid bookend statement.

just another manifestation of our struggle to wrap our heads around our new, and ever-changing reality. same things mixed with same things but different, mixed with new things, and lack of old things... I got a throbbing pain behind my right eye, just typing that.

and honestly, at least for me, a display of not-great mix of privilege and laziness.
Hey, I KNOW I'm lucky to be working remotely. I've not lost sight of that.
and I've been lazy since birth.
about things I CAN be lazy about, at least.
LIKE GRINDING GODDAMN COFFEE AT 11 AT NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
for example.


anyhow...


I could stop at a couple of great places at 6:30a on a weekday, five minutes from my house, on my way to work.

BEFORE.

and I'm signed into my computer at the same time, here in my living room, that I did when I commuted...
but I only have chain coffee options available to me now, to grab a cup when i'm too lazy to grind, before I sit down at my desk...
the struggle is, indeed, real...


Maybe you lamented the closing of golf courses, because now that you're schedule's gotten a little more.... flexible....
no? not one of you?
or massages, or pedicures, or 24 hour walmartapalooza, or your favorite bar....???
nothing??

Only me, hitting myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand? Sitting alone on the bench outside of cafeteria, with my peanut butter sammich?

this does not pass the sniff test.

Think about it for a moment. If you honestly, truly, can't come up with a real life example, think about what your covid bookend statement might be.

No. Really. Go ahead. We'll gather back here in.. five? good? excellent.
.
.
.
.
.

Excellent.
No, I don't need to hear them. I just wanted to see if I could get you to do it.

oh, you're looking for a point, more profundity? a little swerve at the end, an abrupt change in tone?

Nah, this one is isn't one of those. Except... I'm guessing I'm not really all alone on the bench.
we're all in this together, every imperfect one of us.

Going to bed now.
You don't have to go home, but you can't... stay... here...

walking... we're walking.... we're walking... and.....

Walking's been on my mind a bit, of late.

I've done quite a lot of it, the last five or so months.
Not unusual.
Last year, I began training harder, hiking more, around mid-march, in advance of a big hiking trip.

It brings me joy.
And blisters.

I hit a plateau a few weeks ago. a mental wall. and walking's suffered a bit from it.
So again... it's been on my mind.


The dawning of the era of Fitbit, has changed how we look at stuff like... hiking. walking in the woods.
walking 'round the neighborhood on a work break.....

"4.5 miles, 9 flights of stairs, 95 minutes of target cardio exercise... That's a good walk!"

Is it? I mean, it's a decent work out, but is it a good walk?

but like with so many things, numbers only tell part of the story.

What if you add context?

Maybe it was 4.5 miles of awkwardness, first walk with someone as you transition them from dating partner to friend?

Maybe it's from the night, back in the winter, when you couldn't get the ride service apps to work, standing in the group of strangers outside the bar, all staring at their phones and complaining.

or that afternoon when the rain arrived two hours earlier than forecasted, while you were 2 miles from the car?


Maybe it wasn't such a great walk, after all.


There was something kinda satisfying, 3 months ago, to walk for the sake of walking. For the simple sake of putting one foot in front of the other, over... and over... and over.

In the time of uncertainty, this simple act... one foot in front of the other, staying on the path..... helped.
And the fitbit… helped. helped to keep score. helped to make you feel like were accomplishing something good and healthy and simple and pure, when there wasn't a lot of that going on.


the 30 minute, 1.4 mile walks... not a great walk.

Except... it's around my neighborhood. you say hi to everyone else who's walking, and there are always a lot of walkers. You watch your neighborhood... bloom. turn green, flower up. you watch gardens get planted and thrive.
You see new messages of youthful hope and solidarity written in chalk on the sidewalk.

You're... part of it. Part of something larger than yourself.



So, to sum up, five months ago, it was all about simply putting one foot in front of the other, and not getting lost.
NOW... it's about being reminded that you're a part of something bigger than yourself.

I frequently drive aimlessly around with my new girlfriend.   She's all about scenery and laughing and companionable silence.   She's all about talking, too, but doesn't worry if we aren't.

We do this so often, in the time of pandemic and social distancing, that I created an "Aimless Driving Mix" on my phone. 
of course it's awesome. 
duh.

We see angry, butch dwarves smoking cigarettes by the side of the road with  giantess'.
Monks in full monk-garb, doing yard work at their place, mystifyingly situated in a tiny blinking light town that offers nothing else.
We've seen shipwrecks in yards; Amish buggies sticking ass end out of the woods, in what appeared to be an amish version of red neck yard dump.  
An old lady standing in her large yard with a tiny bottle of round up, spraying 1/4 acre of weeds one weed at a time...…

It gets so we're a bit disappointed if we don't see SOMETHING....


Was driving in a county not my own, last night.  It's... nearby.

And one I was once more familiar with, than I am now.

Somone's spending a LOT of money on signs, in hopes that they're elected to be the county prosecuting attorney.

It seems like a miserable fucking job, ESPECIALLY in the county in question.  I'd like to be exposed to the dregs, ALL THE TIME, of a county known for... dregs. 
I want to eat, drink, sleep, fuck, breathe... the dregs of this county.  At their... dreggiest.  

(Yeah, I just made that word up.  my blog, friends.   I can do that....)


Then I wondered:  How much self righteous fury would one individual have to possess to get excited about prosecuting societal dregs for the rest of their life?

Doesn't seem like a hugger.

Several Random turns in middle of nowhere, picking pavement over dirt at various intersections, and all the sudden, I was.. there.  Upon it.    

An old, oblong, barn.  one I hadn't seen in almost 5.5 years, and hadn't thought about in as long.
It was my favorite intersection on my way to the old job.  I believe I posted pics of it, labeling it as such, at the time.    Little did any of you know that favorite intersection on my way to THAT job, was like being the nicest guy in prison....  


But there it was.
And for a moment, I experienced the same fear and depression and panic I used to experience, every morning, at that intersection.   
It was the last choice I had, every morning, back in the day. Turn left, go to hell. turn any other way, lose my job.  
Decisions, decisions...

Less than a second later, all of it had passed, and I was left, at the intersection, surprised by my visceral reaction, all these years later.    And I certainly knew which way NOT to go.

"If you were a child" the therapist told me at the end of our first session, 5.5 years ago,
"I'd have to call DCFS. You're being abused."

Maybe I should not be all that surprised by my reaction, after all.
br />

Platitudes...

Live, laugh, love.

My goodness, but that’s annoying.

My first exposure was 5/2014, upon starting the job that brought me back to MI, that was so horrendously bad, with such horrendously unpleasant coworkers, and psycho bosses, that HR apologized to me for my experience, and gave me a beyond generous severance package, if I agreed to not speak ill of them by name in public.

I was there for less than a year. 

So, maybe “Live, Laugh, Love” never really had a chance.    The nasty, mean cracker who had a needlepoint of it at her desk, and informed me it was her life motto, might have just spoiled it for me.

But, you see…. now... I'm experiencing on-line dating.

I’m on a dating app.  

And there are a LOT of women who like to use these platitudes in their profiles. 

And to be very clear - I expect lots of guys do the same.  probably not "live, laugh, love", but....

anyhow...

Every time I see “Live, Laugh, Love”…. I stop looking at their profile.  

Hard stop. 

Can’t help myself.  

One of 3-4 pics on a profile I checked out, was of these very words tattoo’d on the woman’s shoulder.     Christ.

But in case I appear to be singling this particular platitude out, let’s rush through a few more.

So…

About your school of hard knocks - Charter school?   

Oh, and “I work hard and play harder”.

How hard ARE you actually working?  Need a baseline, for comparison.   

Oh, it says here you’re currently exploring new career options. 

And honestly - Fuck your YOLO.    You’re on this earth just this one time, so LET’S GET EXTREME!!!  How does this “philosophy” make sense? “ I get one shot at this, and can live a long life suffering consequences of half-assed decision making. Fuck yeah!  bring it!”    

What behaviors are allowed and not allowed, under YOLO?  Are their guidelines written out somewhere?  what's simply living your best life, and what's living your only life with abandon?

And don’t sing like noone’s listening.    Sing like someone just might be.  Take pride in yourself. Make an effort.  Sing like you love your voice and it brings you joy.

Own that shit.

And don’t get me started on “Learning to dance in the rain” or whatever that correct platitude actually is.      

Honestly, this one’s not as bad.  Except, after I didn’t mind it the first time I saw it anywhere, it wasn’t long before I saw it… everywhere.    Why, it appeared that EVERYONE was learning to dance in the rain.

Except… when it actually rained, I never saw anyone outside, dancing.   
And I fucking looked.
   

I’m calling bullshit….

Platitudes……