The number 42 is, in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything", calculated by an enormous supercomputer named Deep Thought over a period of 7.5 million years. Unfortunately, no one knows what the question is. (from Wikipedia) So I will reflect over the last 42 years... 42 years ago - tried to come out feet first and running in ohio, sorry mom 39 years ago - got a sister from the store, and a goldfish from mom & dad 34 years ago - moved to nc 30 years ago - finally understood the word y'all 27 years ago - got my first job 24 years ago - graduated high school 23 years ago - moved out of the house 22 years ago - kind of fuzzy 21 years ago - bought my first house 20 years ago - got married and got a little stupid with the law 19 years ago - fixed those mistakes 18 years ago - found a womb for 2 awesome kids 17 years ago - landed first real job 13 years ago - my favorite gal was born 12 years ago - bought another house 11 years ago - took career to a whole new level 10 years ago - my favorite little man was born 9 years ago - shit got real 8 years ago - got rid of the second mistake 7 years ago - rough year 5 years ago - got a dog 4 years ago - swam with sharks and learned about the word relax in belize, life changer 3 years ago - quit my job and started a business 2 years ago - shut down my business and started a new job 1 years ago - bought a bus and started a new adventure today - at 42, i don't have the answer to life, or anything really... BUT I'M HAPPY AS SHIT AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS Thank you for all the birthday wishes (and trip around the sun congrats)
she put a fresh coat of paint on every window sill re-caulked the tub to be sure it didn't leak cleaned the house like it had never been cleaned before I took the kids for a weekend trip to come back to a new beginning and two empty wine glasses just an hour after he left
I will die, I'm dying, we all are the moment we are born. I cannot change that. I am not scared and I am not afraid.
- I have been bitten by many bugs in many countries
- I drive a car daily
- I am frequently in a public place
- I drink too much coffee
- I consume raw fish and undercooked meats
- I drink alcohol
- I feed sharks and swim with stingrays
- I eat raw eggs
- I do not know what my cholesterol level is
- I refuse to live my life in fear
Because the middle aged man belly (that some blame on the beer) doesn't tan on the underside so when I'm floating belly down, I blend in with the sky and the sharks cannot see me. That is all. Thank you
Airport toilet paper. You know, that ever so soft, plush, feels good on your ass stuff. The close your eyes and imagine it gently wiping the shit off as it glides over... OK, that is hurting my virgin ears, stop! Next topic please! Last night while I was searching for my camera charger, I found a pair of eye glasses from two prescriptions ago (roughly 3 years and I think the same as I have in my snorkel mask). I thought, “Hmm, I'll bring these along as a backup just in case.” So I tried them on. Holy crap, I could see again. My last eye doctor appointment did not go too well. I was nervous, sweating like a pig and almost passed out. Yes, I hate doctors and I cannot stand anything near my eyes. I have almost passed out watching someone else put contacts in. The net at my last visit was the Doc telling me that he could only correct my vision to a degree and it would not be 20/20. All based on that “is 1 better... or 2” method which is airport toilet paper. I accepted, shelled out way too much money for a new pair of glasses and went on my airport toilet paper way. Back to last night. I switched back and forth between my current prescription and this old pair a few times. I was still convinced that the old prescription allowed me to see in greater detail at a distance. The new (relative new) pair was ok at distance and complete airport toilet paper close up. I decided that I would need to drive in the older pair to determine if it was the beer, the correcter (making up words) prescription or airport toilet paper. I'm still sporting the oldest pair, drove to the airport in them in a constant worry that I would have a headache after an hour. Here we are, 8 hours since I put them on and I'm feeling nothing like airport toilet paper. This is probably not a fair test though as I'm 3 beers and 2 bloody marys into this vacation, so I'll give it some more time. Worst case, I have my newer pair and absolute worst case, my snorkel mask. That shall be all for now, I'll let you return to whatever airport toilet paper thing you were doing. Cheers!
Whataburger... I checked in on Facebook and within seconds you were mad at me that I didn't let you know I was in town and only forgave me when I explained that I was in Dallas, not Austin. The storm clouds move in and out, shifting with the wind. Quickly changing shape but always allowing a small patch of clouds to reflect the sun's orange tint on the surroundings until the sun sinks below the horizon. I will forever see that and remember you. There are friends in life that are more like family. They are always there. And in the blink of an eye, they are gone. Rest in peace Catherine, I enjoyed our conversations and the time we spent. You have such a wonderful personality and will be greatly missed.
I didn't really grow up in a football centric home. Well, I might have. I remember my Dad watching football some Sundays, but I'm not sure if it was just his excuse to take a nap in his favorite recliner before the Monday work week hell started back up. I never got into watching sports after I moved out, didn't even really watch TV for that matter. Where I live is a college basketball crazy town. Although there have been years where I have watched every game that I possible could, today, I can say that I haven't watched a game in a few years. And I still don't watch TV. But this post is not about me. I used to tolerate a football game on the TV at the bar or visiting a friend. My son. All 117 pounds of pure joy in my life decided to play football this year. He found a decent league to play with and started practice. His first game was, to me, hilarious. A bunch of 8-9 year old boys running around the field tackling the other team. I honestly do not believe any of them knew where the ball was at any given time. But they got to be tough and rough and tackle other kids. The first game did not go very well, they lost by a land slide even though they did not officially keep score. All is good. I'm starting to love football. The league is small, so the games were anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 1/2 hours away. Small price to pay for his enjoyment. Then it happened. The second game was cancelled? Come to find out, his team was suspended from the league because they didn't have enough players and were not bringing enough money into the league. I'll explain. All parents, friends, family that came to watch the game had to pay the $5 admission fee to be a spectator. Because his team only had 11 players, well you can do the math. So, after his Mom put up with a lot of stuff (I've only heard parts of what she had to go through) to get him into another league, he went back to practicing. I still am now loving football. Mother Nature decided to step in and it rained for a good week and a half. Game cancellation. Then doubling up with a game on Saturday and a game on Sunday. This coupled with between 3 and 4 days of practice per week, rain or shine, it was a lot of work. Once the rain decided to dissipate, he played exactly 4 plays in the next game. Three plays in the next game. No plays in the next game. He practiced his ass off during the week, finishing covered in boy sweat (yuck) and tired. I now hate football. This is my opinion, maybe not yours, and I will take no offense if you disagree with me nor will I be defensive if you disagree (see, I do know offense and defense). This is supposed to be a rec league where you DO have to pay to play. It's not horribly expensive, but it is money. I completely understand when you get to middle school or high school that you will go through tryouts and may not make the team. What I question is that this is supposed to be something the kids do because they want to and the parents decide to pay their dues, both in time and money. And when the child does not get to play and gets upset and although they practice their little butts off, they aren't really playing what they signed up for. So, in the end, although the season runs through the end of the month, he has decided that he no longer wants to play for this team. He does not feel like a quitter. He does feel like an outcast on the team. I believe that this is due to him joining the team 2 weeks after the season kicked off and the previous league being under different rules than the current. I also believe that his coach expects him to completely understand the game in his first season because most of the boys on his team have been playing for at least one season. His size, he's a big boy, not fat, just big for his age, put him in a 10U team when he is 8. To all the coaches out there, it's not for your benefit, it's for the kids. They are doing this because they want to. If your rec league team absolutely has to win or you feel like a failure then you really should not be coaching (and may want to re-evaluate your mental state). Take this advice and realize the kids will do their best, but only based on the direction and coaching you give them. And most importantly, this is not about the money, it is about my child wanting to play with a team - a wonderful life lesson for him to learn in the early years, which is what I thought was part of playing sports, apparently not. It is also not about me being a jealous or irritated parent because my son doesn't get to play. It is, however, about your lack of skills in coaching to teach the kids (it is also not just my child that is sitting out, the last game, 3 kids sat out the entire game) My final words to the coaches (trying to refrain from the "F**K YOU"): This is life folks, we all lose from time to time, but if we are not in the game, we can never win. I'm off my soap box, for now. Basketball starts in a few months. I kind of feel like "one of those parents" right now!
I need to get back into writing. I'm not quite ready yet. Close though. So I thought about a little quick post and go with a throw back Thursday. So here it goes. All information is as accurate as my brain can recall, any discrepancies are not the fault of my fingers or laptop or my dog. I'm stopping at 4, sorry 10. The first cassette tape I owned was a copy of Run DMC - Raising Hell The first cassette tape I bought with lunch money I didn't spend on lunch was Beastie Boys - Licensed to Ill The first CD I heard was The Cure - Disintegration The first CD I owned was NIN - Pretty Hate Machine
I tried to help, I'm sorry I dropped the diaper pail down the stairs. I just felt that you needed my help. You know, when my sister showed up, we had to deal with her poop, right? Elementary school, thank you for moving us to NC!!! Next stage in life, I probably was not the most studious middle school person. I think I did OK, but I should have done better. And high school, oh my. I apologize for all of the things that I did that you may (or may not) know about. Most were stupid. Most were irresponsible. Let's sweep that under the rug. After that, well, you supported my decisions, although they may not have been the best decisions in the world. But Mom, I would not be who I am, where I am, what I am today if it had not been for you (and Dad). I know I call too much, pretty much every day. Hopefully you don't mind. You are my anchor, my role model, my everything. I could not be raising your grandchildren without your advice and input and support. Life is not easy, but you make it feel that way even when it's not. Thank you! Happy Mothers Day!!! Love, Your Son
Maybe it's hard to appreciate, but pure pitch black night is beautiful. We live in a world of brilliant neon, bright street lights, convenient light switches and flashlights. We always want the lights on to lead the way. Have you ever stopped to look at the darkness? Soak in the emptiness of not being able to see what is near you? Close to you? In front of you? Look up. Look up at the stars on a clear night. Look up at the half moon shining through a cloudy sky. Look up at the storm overhead. Wait for lightning to illuminate. Then pause. Breathe in deep. We were born in darkness. There's always a light. Sometimes you just need to wait for it. Then close your eyes, the darkness behind your lids is the same, isn't it? Think where you are walking. Don't trip. Think about the uneven sidewalk. A lightning bug will help. A little bit. Feel what is around you. Sense what is around you. Know what is around you. Don't run into the wall that has been there for a hundred years, a thousand years. 1/2 Just Ten Lines Salamander slithers Into my dreams Knows only darkness Wombat burrows Escaping danger