Category: family

What does it matter,I still learned it

Before I got married I was at a cocktail party rubbing elbows with my fiance’s family. I was talking to a distinguished and clearly educated gent and the subject of the Korean Conflict somehow came up. Now, I did have a fair amount of knowledge on that because, like I said, I later educated myself. But there I stood, a pizza cook on the threshold of a potential conversational Armageddon. But I held in. Fortuitously, he came to an impasse in the discussion and was stuck on the parallel that the US military failed to cross, the one that would have been an act of war. I chimed in,
“That would be the 38th Parallel.” I was then complimented as being a smart young man. What he didn’t know is that I got that from the Rodney Dangerfield comedy Back to School.
I was reminded of that today as I was reading an excerpt from one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meaney. There is no shortage of reasons why I love the book, I have always been a sucker for a coming-of-age story and it’s a great one. The excerpt that caught my eye was dedicated to the birth of the all-time opiate of the masses, the Television (my apologies to Karl Marx), in which the narrator observes the progression of the power that the television eventually held in his home. He told of how his Grandmother, who was always staunchly opposed to TV finally caved, and how the grandson reluctantly fell under its spell as well. Our hero Owen Meaney, ever the virtuous one, chastised the Grandson for watching TV. At which time the Grandson defended it by offering how many ways that it was educational. Owen promptly dismissed this, his unsolicited opinion was that TV was a slovenly way to educate oneself.

I was amused and a little embarrassed when confronted with this. While I consider myself adequately educated, I have attained a fair amount of passable knowledge, some decent Trivial Pursuit-ish information as well as some solid nuggets of pop culture as well as high society through TV and movies.
Now, of course, TV was not educational in 1958, the time period in discussion. You watched what was available and a lot of it was garbage. It’s not a fair comparison to today’s Cable and streaming options that offer many educational options. Which I take advantage of. Despite even that… some of my greatest stories that deal with gaining “knowledge” through unlikely and slovenly sources occurred many years ago.

Most of my knowledge of Opera, Classical Music, American society during the Great Depression, Prohibition, wartime, etc., comes exclusively from Bugs Bunny cartoons. That’s right. “Kill the Wabbit” taught me about Opera.
In addition, most of my understanding of politics I can directly attribute to Berkeley Breathed and Gary Trudeau, of Bloom County and Doonesbury fame, respectively. As a skirt-chasing teenager (and young adult and well, forever) dedicated to doing the bare minimum, it was Bloom County and Doonesbury that piqued my interest in the news of the day as they lampooned politics and known as well as not-so-well-known cultural figures. It was through Bloom County and Doonesbury that I learned of the colorful figures and their stories that dominated the era such as Anita Bryant and her Anti-gay activism, the anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly, the disappearance of known American atheist Madalyn Murray-O’Hair, the Televangelist scandals, the Contras and Sandanistas, the Star Wars antics of the Reagan era, I could go on but I won’t. Suffice it to say that otherwise boring (to me) subject matter and events were portrayed comically way or ironically and consequently raised my interest. An interest in being current and informed on the matters of the world, and in being able to take a humorous, even absurdist interpretation. In the case of Bloom County, the political landscape was portrayed often through Children and anthropomorphized naive but politically charged meadow animals. Think of a Hedgehog, a rabbit, and a Penguin having a caucus to nominate a dead cat for President.
That shit was funny!
And it had the right effect on me, it got me interested. Which fortunately led to a lot of self-education of the shit that I should have learned in High School.

Snob appeal, slob appeal. Whatever. Learning can come from many sources, highbrow and otherwise. What matters is that I learned something, and I received the added bonus of getting a good laugh in the process.

“Slovenly” Perhaps. Effective? Absolutely.

Negative? Not me

Every once in a while someone will say something about you that you will ponder, and once adequately pondered, say out loud “That is so NOT me!”

I’ve been collaborating on a podcast with my good friend and roommate Steve. It is in the early stages of development; in order to have a successful podcast you need to be known, and the only way to get known is to create buzz for yourself by advertising, promoting, and telling anyone and everyone that you are doing a podcast and would you listen? This works to a degree, but in order to get the more sophisticated podcast listener you must have a body of work. For the sake of this conversation, let’s say that 50 episodes is a good body of work. Still, there are many success stories out there that made thousands before they made it.

The idea for our podcast came from the many spirited conversations that Steve and I used to have in which we either agreed or were on opposite sides of an issue or an idea. We embraced our differences and it wasn’t long before the idea of a podcast was offered up. So we started it. And, due modesty aside, I think we have an interesting, stimulating, accessible and intelligent podcast. Upon reaching 50 episodes, we agreed that we were onto something good and were ready to promote it. We had a good format, good ideas, and limited but positive feedback. We interviewed Steve’s childhood friend and published author Mark Michalisin with the agreement that we would promote that particular episode as our coming out and we would all share it to all of our social media. As hoped, it generated interest, and while it wasn’t enough to get us established, our friends and family gave us solid reviews and favorable input. Not everyone loved it, but respected it. We are frequently very candid on controversial subjects, we lean politically to the right but are very fair and balanced and always open to an opposing voice and we had a few. Of the 2 of us, I got the only negative review. One of Steve’s friends said that I was very negative and didn’t seem like a nice person. In particular, I indulged in some name-calling. I thought they were clever mockeries of truly despicable people, but her assessment of the name-calling was fair and I rolled with it.

To speak in a public forum one must be prepared to receive criticism, differing viewpoints, and in some cases harsh rebukes. We will never please everybody, nor do we want to. So I didn’t mind the feedback. I knew that she didn’t watch the entire episode, only a clip that we generated. Had she watched the whole thing, she probably would not have felt that way. But again, I took it in stride.

The experience was good for me. I believe deep down that we all have a perception of ourselves with respect to how we present to other people. I am hyper-aware that many, (most?) people think they project differently than they actually do. Me? I know exactly how I present. And to my critic’s point, I can come off very contrary to my true self. I get carried away and I am passionate. My emotions are strong and I feel things intensely. I can be harsh. I can be relentless. I often take a stand. I can even be a bit self-righteous if I truly believe in something. My fatal flaw is that I will go to great lengths to make a joke. But I am not negative. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I am known among a very large circle of family, friends, and acquaintances to be an eternal optimist.

I was sick for a very long time. I struggled with Kidney disease for most of my adult life. Although the disease didn’t significantly affect my ability to function normally until my late 40’s, at which time I became unable to hide, and this is important to understand, the severity of my illness from friends and family anymore. I didn’t want to bother anyone or make them worry. I just rolled along. I have never understood why people found that so inspirational but they did. I am of the belief that we really only have 2 choices, as Andy Dufresne famously stated in Shawshank, “you either get busy living or get busy dying”. Before I saw that movie, I felt that way. What am I supposed to do? Curl up in a ball and die? By the sheer virtue of not dying I survived. Not to inspire anyone, not to look like a hero, but to do what we all do…get through each day and the new challenges they bring. I suppose I did it in such a way that people deemed me an optimist, but what else is there to do? We all have a lot in life and we need to make the most of it.

Beyond my optimism, I would point to my sense of Gratitude that serves me the best. I recognize that I have been given blessings, more than I deserve that I need to be grateful for. I can honestly say that a Higher Power may be the reason I am here to tell this story because I have been too close to death too many times to be a coincidence. It causes me to look at life in a different light than most people, an attitude of gratitude creates a domino effect of kindness, generosity and genuine appreciation. THAT is inspirational because people need that nowadays.

And it is in no way NEGATIVE.

Settling in

I’m all moved into the new digs. I’m not quite prepared to say that I have started a new life but it’s certainly a nice change of pace. I recognize a twinge of uncertainty within but I know myself, that’s normal. I second-guess everything so I’m not going to let my anxiety get the best of me. This could be a good move for me and it will take time to know if it’s the right move. Change is hard, especially for me. It’s also a known fact that there’s give and take, pluses and minuses in everything. At the end of the day, I will either be able to reconcile them or not.

I’m giving up a few things. For starters, I lived with my mother in her lovely home. Quiet, surrounded by woods, clean air to breathe, and access to a lake. The people in town are friendly and I am well known and respected in the community.
I now live in a loft of a large apartment in a busy area. While I have full use of the entire place, it doesn’t feel like mine so it will take time, if ever, to feel comfortable.
I will miss my mother and it troubles me that she is having difficulty understanding, now that I am healthy again, I don’t want to be a guy who lives with his mother. I’ll visit her often, but it’s not enough for her.
While the people in my previous town were friendly, I was very far (2 hours) from my family and friends. Now I am within 30 minutes of everyone in my life. Not to mention that I am an active Mason at heart and it has pained me for the last 5 years that I was forced to miss a great deal of it because of my distance.

I think overall it will be a good move. I really like my roommate and any growing pains will resolve themselves I’m sure. The dating scene is very active here and I am already meeting people. I tentatively have a job detailing cars, which is what I did up North. The only, if any, drawback to that is that I hope I am not forced to give up my very solid book of business in my previous town. Not only do I make a good living from them, my clients are very nice and I consider many of them friends. And oddly, despite detailing not being an essential service, my clients value my services and need me.

I didn’t cover everything but I’m sure I will be exploring this more as I continue to acclimate. For now I just want to get acclimated and let things just happen.

Growing pains

It’s been a busy few weeks as I have been winding down my detail business up North and making my move to my new digs in Southern NH. It has been difficult on both fronts. My customers continue to offer me business despite my stated completion date for the season of 10/31. I’m torn between shutting it down and taking the opportunity to make money. I kike money and I think anyone in my position would do the same. As for how my living situation fits into this, I have yet to spend more than a couple of weekends at my new place because I need to drive back up for jobs during the week. It’s not a big deal other than not being able to settle into my new residence. I’m just anxious to start a new chapter.

I suppose that my work commitments aren’t the only obstacle to my moving. I am becoming bittersweet about moving away from Mom. She has been making comments lately, despite initially being supportive of my move, that suggest that she is unhappy about my leaving. This is problematic, I based my decision heavily on her opinion. I will miss her as well, I have told her this repeatedly. I love her with all my heart and she is my best friend. But I have been living with her for 6 years. Ever since I fell ill in 2017. Now that I am well again, I want to rejoin the ranks of the adult, which includes having your own place. Or in my case, sharing an apartment with a roommate. Anything but living with your mother. I was hoping for a smoother, happier transition.

As for the rest of the transition, I like my new space. It is sparsely but tastefully decorated to my taste. My roommate, who is one of my dearest friends, gives me plenty of space. We hang out quite a bit but also have plenty of our own space. Another very important aspect of the move is that I am so much closer to family and friends. I have already taken advantage of the close proximity to both and I feel really good about it. This morning I went to a function with friends at the lodge and then had lunch with my daughter and I only did an hour of driving, not 4!

Growing pains are necessary and tend to wear off sooner than later.

Change is in the air

I love Autumn. Please don’t tell “Summer Me”, I don’t want any hurt feelings. Summer is my favorite season because I love long days, the feeling of the Sun beating down on me, and all of the activities that we cram into a very short season. I romanticize the glory of Summer all winter long because I certifiably hate winter. It’s not so much the cold, but instead the short days and grey skies. SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is a real thing. But after Summer and before the dreaded Winter is Fall. And I love it, despite what comes after it.

About mid-August each year I begin looking forward to Fall weather. The cooler air is a nice break (my asthma welcomes it), a whole new set of outdoor activities awaits, the bugs are gone, and, at least in New England, the scenery is magnificent. Bring on the Fairs, cider, pumpkins, and sweatshirt weather.

This fall will be special for me for 2 reasons.
First, I can coast a bit after a very busy, not-very-fun Summer. I dedicated this summer to working. I really dove into promoting my side hustle of cleaning cars and also worked a part-time job. I had a very successful summer. For a person with my health history, I really pushed myself. I did well with it, I am much healthier as a result. I am also much better off financially.
Additionally, and most exciting, there are some significant changes in the coming weeks. Due to my revived health and improved finances, I am finally moving out of Mom’s house.

Moving away from Mom is bittersweet. We get along great and she is sad to see me go, but it’s time. Whether it is valid or not, I cannot get past the notion that a grown-ass man shouldn’t be living with Mom. There are those that disagree but I can’t get past it. I need to feel like I’m on my own to a degree. Moving in with my good friend and podcast partner Steve will benefit me. We’re very close friends and it should be productive as well as fun.
Mom will be fine. I’m only doing this because she spends half of her time in Florida now. She doesn’t need me as much and I hate being alone when she’s gone. Also, I’m only 2 hours away.

I’m on the precipice of getting my life back. Seeing my friends and family more often (I have no friends where I am, it’s a much older community). Also, my beloved Masonic circle is based where I am moving and after almost a year away from it, I am eager to dive back in.

Here’s to change. The changing of the seasons and the changes in my life. After years of setbacks and lateral moves, I am finally moving forward.

comparisons

In reviewing my last post I hit upon something that I would like to elaborate on.
“Compared to most people my age, (can I say this with certainty?) I am way beneath the expectations of my years financially and emotionally.”

Says who?

I always do that. I always compare myself to other people. It’s a natural result of my people-watching. Actually, what I do is more than just people-watching. I study people, not with the trained, methodical eye of a sociologist, but instead with a preoccupation and fascination with people and their behavior. I don’t just observe, I speculate and project, insinuate, and envision what makes people tick. I missed my calling in life not pursuing the social sciences in college.

My people-watching evolved from a passing fancy into a pastime. When I was at my lowest it was merely voyeurism. At my lowest, I felt so worthless that almost every subject of my silent study appeared to me as superior to me. Going out was painful. Happy families, couples, and groups of friends enjoying each other’s company just exacerbated my loneliness and isolation. Indulging in Social media was a form of torment. Even when factoring in that most Social media presence is exaggerated or an outright bullshit version of one’s life, I still envied those who were doing better than me. Which, for the sake of this entry was fucking everyone.

Then I asked myself, what am I envious of? Wealth? Career success? Happiness? No, I don’t begrudge others having it. But when I see things that are symbolic of my own benchmark of where and what I think I should be at this point in my life, and I’m not there, I immediately focus immediately on every fuck-up to my name that has put me where I am today. And it triggers endless self-flagellation and pointless obsession over things I cannot change.

Fortunately, I have obtained a grip on it. I have grown to be very self-aware and accountable. Self-awareness has enabled me to take a hard look and assess where I need work. Accountability has taught me to own the hard truths that I have come to.

Here’s one. Yes, illness took a lot from me. But it isn’t the only reason I am where I am. I am a product of my choices. I married the wrong woman, so the happiness of a happy marriage has eluded me. I may not ever get (the way it’s going now) the chance at relationship happiness ever again.

It is not my place to want what others have. It is my place, and responsibility to reconcile what I have and make peace with my station in life.

Forward progress

Things always work out for me. Inexplicably at times. This is not to say that I am in a particularly wonderful place right now. Compared to most people my age, (can I say this with certainty?) I am way beneath the expectations of my years financially and emotionally. I am playing a frenetic game of catch-up in both arenas. My success is questionable.
But I am moving forward.

I’m always moving forward. It is what makes me who I am. When they finally bury me, friends and family will universally declare that I never gave up. This is not braggadocious, it is fact. See, everyone loves to call people fighters, survivors, etc. It is well-intentioned enough, but it doesn’t require toughness to merely stay alive. Survival is the mere act of not dying. It is strength of spirit that determines whether you are a quitter or not. To me, quitting is accepting your station in life and not trying to move forward and overcome it. Strength of spirit allows you to say no to victimhood. To avoid asking “why me?” and start asking “Why not me?”. Strength of spirit allows you to pick yourself up and try again. Strength of spirit is all that I have.
Well, to be fair I have also been blessed with incredible luck.

It’s odd. Most people wouldn’t consider my litany of health problems, which have been the source of most of my problems, lucky. But the evidence is in. I was lucky enough to get two kidney transplants. The odds of finding a compatible second donor were staggeringly not in my favor. But it happened. Less important but significant, I fell into a situation that resulted in my dream job. Sure, illness took it away from me but I still lived it. And that’s better than not having it. And despite a miserable marriage, I lucked out with 4 amazing human beings for children.

As a person who believes that life is not what happens, but how you react to it, the lucky part is that I learned gratitude, perspective, humility, faith and self-awareness. I have learned to recognize lessons in adversity ( and in my own stupidity). In addition, I have learned that no matter how bad things get, one day I will wake up and realize that they somehow got better.

I don’t know when it happened, but in the last couple of weeks I have been lucky enough to recognize how good my life really is.

The relationships, the money, all of the things that I find myself worrying about…that stuff will all work out. I always land on my feet.

purpose

I need to find something gratifying to do with my life.

Despite some recent emotional ups and downs I must concede that my life is going fairly well right now. My health is excellent, which is paramount to all else. My numbers are perfect, my Doctors are nothing less than thrilled with the performance of the new kidney.
I have been working hard all summer. This is satisfying on more than one level; I am pleased that my body had risen to the task of long days and physical exertion. 3 years ago I was nowhere near able to do what I have been doing this year. I really feel great.
Additionally, I have really built up my savings. While I am nowhere near financially secure, I was destitute not terribly long ago.
Because of my financial improvement, I am about to get a very large monkey off of my back. I am moving out of mom’s house. This is bittersweet because I really like it here. It is a nice place. I’m surrounded by beautiful country, the people are nice, and my mother and I really get along well. Still, I have yet to embrace the notion of a man my age living with his mother. It’s something I can’t get past.

I am moving in with a friend next month. He’s a good friend. He welcomed me into his home when it all fell apart in 2016. I had to move when I got real sick but he has welcomed me to return. He is being very fair with the rent as a favor to me. He is looking forward to the company as well. We are doing a podcast together as well as tossing around some other ventures and getting in the same room should yield some positive results. The biggest bonus, the driving force behind my wanting to move is that I will be closer to my children, friends and my Masonic community.

Yes, all is going well. I have put the desire for a companion on the back burner for now and it feels like the right decision. I have only one thing left to feel semi-complete. I need to find something that is gratifying to the soul. When I promised the Universe that I would give back as often and as generously as I could in exchange for the gift of another chance I meant it. When I was working with addiction clients I was living up to it. Unfortunately, I had to stop that. Now I need to find something else. Either as a part-time position or as a volunteer.

I am only happy when I feel I am living a life of purpose.

Nostalgia

Every once in a while, Netflix gets it right and they actually add a movie that I want to watch. Imagine my joy when I stumbled across one of my all-time favorite movies, George Lucas’s 1973 hit American Graffiti.

Where do I begin? The cast?
Ron Howard, six months before he would debut as Richie Cunningham on Happy Days. Cindy Williams 3 years before she became the infamous Shirley on Laverne and Shirley. Richard Dreyfuss. Mackenzie Phillips, Suzanne Somers, and Harrison Ford were all in their first big role. Add to the mix Wolfman Jack and you have a heluva cast.

The cars?
John Milner’s chopped ’32 Ford Standard coupe. Bob Falfa’s (Ford) badass ’55 Chevy Belair. The mysterious ’56 Silver Thunderbird with the porthole windows driven by Somers. Steve Bolander’s (Howard) cherry ’58 Impala. Oh man, for a Detroit muscle buff such as myself, it is a veritable wet dream.

The story?
It is 1965 Modesto California. It is a typical Saturday night and the locals are blowing off steam. Typical of the time, looking “cool” was the law of the land and, given the puritanical nature of the time, there was not much else to do except ride around in cars, go to arcades and sock hops, and create a harmless ruckus while driving around. We are introduced to the players; the too-old-to-be-hanging-out-with-teenagers guy with the hot car who is always being challenged to race. The local young people that have menial 9-5’s and live for the weekend. Gangs, car clubs, and packs of teenage girls defying Daddy for a few hours. Add to the mix that this is no typical Saturday night for a small group of teens, for it is the eve of them leaving for college the next morning. Relationships are called into question(should we see other people?), feet are getting cold as one promising student is thinking of not going. They are all grappling with change and fear of what the future will hold. I won’t ruin the ending for you other than the inevitable drag race ends up altering the plans of two of them.

It is a wonderful character study about fear and uncertainty. Of the familiar and the question of whether it is better to be comfortable or to try something new. All against the backdrop of 1960’s America.

And there it is, that is what I love about the movie. The era.

I was born in 1965. A mere 3 years earlier my mom and dad were likely in a similar scene. My dad was a car fanatic and he belonged to a club. He was an amateur stock car driver. He was also a bit of a hellion with that fast Lincoln of his. Cruising the strip, bantering with other drivers with my mom under his arm is totally conceivable. My mom telling him to slow down, not get a ticket or into an accident, and to have her home before her father “grounds her” is also very believable. They lived the movie. The two of them could have been dropped into the set of that movie and nobody would have blinked. The guy in the white tee shirt with the Camels rolled into the sleeve? That was my dad. The girl in the Pencil dress and sensible shoes? That was my mom.

I often fantasize about being a teenager back then. While they may have thought that they were pushing the envelope, we now know that their version is pale compared to today. It can almost be considered tame and wholesome. But they didn’t know that.

They also didn’t know what would happen just a few short years later. Vietnam would escalate. Draft cards were coming. Parents and authority figures, particularly parents, became the enemy as generations clashed. People would be forced to tune in or drop out. EVERYTHING would change soon for the innocent, harmless locals.

But there is always the movie. A reminder of a better time. A more innocent time. A time that ceased to exist not long after. Oh yeah, did I mention the CARS?

Takeaways

I’ve been back from Florida for 8 days and this is the first time I’ve made an attempt to journal.
I wish I could neatly sum up what and how I have been doing since my return from my hiatus/break/retreat/mental health break/run-from-my-problems trip to Florida. The only thing(s) I can accurately report is that I like the weather there much more, and that my problems were still here waiting for me.
And that’s ok.
It was silly of me to think that, despite all of the soul-searching and Zen moments I created/experienced while away, I would return as a significantly different person.

One thing I am sure of is that I learned enough about myself to lay the groundwork, a foundation if you will, of how to accomplish a life well-lived. I narrowed it down to 3 very simple principles that I know I am capable of adhering steadfastly to.
1) Stop caring what others think of me.
Sounds easy enough doesn’t it? Don’t we all know those people that pound their chest in a Bluto-esque display of Bravado and say “I don’t care what others think of me!” Problem is, I don’t believe 90% of them. Sure, there are people who really don’t but it’s a small number. But I’m now in that percentage. At this point in my life I have to be me and people are going to have to deal with that. I have learned that it’s not so bad to be me.
2) Forgive myself.
I have wasted so much time dwelling on the past. It’s truly wasted time to dwell on it because I can’t change it. I vow to treat everything in my life pre-today as a lesson in either how or how not to do something. That’s all it can be. I’m done beating the shit out of myself.
3) Don’t chase.
That may sound like an odd one but it’s huge for me. I take it real hard when I am rejected. I should be used to it but it has always been a problem. Friends, family, and women alike have abandoned me over the years and I spend an inordinate amount of effort fixating on it. Not to say that I have no fault in any of it, instead I am saying that I am not chasing after the fact. If you choose to leave my life, and I have made all appropriate efforts to make things right, then you are free to leave and I will just have to make peace with it.

That’s what I came up with in Florida. Now, as I return to life I am going to do what I told my clients as a Case Manager; instead of returning to an old life, I will begin a new one. As often as I need to in order to get it right. Any and all decisions that I make as I work on the many areas of my life that need improvement will be guided by the three principles stated above.

Starting today.