Growin a Beard

Okay, now today is Tuesday October 15, 2013.   I'm still alive but somewhat behind schedule on the actual living side of things.  It is about 10:40 A.M. and I have an issue about whether I should shave or not.  Ladies, it's a known fact that a man naturally thinks his beard looks great on him.  He's looking in the mirror thinking, "Yeah, yeah... I'm liking it."  It's just a few days old so it's juuust pass that 60 grit sandpaper stage?  Fellas, you know that point where your wife likes the look of your 9 o'clock shadown but not the feel?  You know.... you try to give her a kiss on the cheek and five minutes later she's hunkered down on the couch she has a cotton ball with Neosporin on what could possibly be a permanent scar if not treated properly?   If you don't then you were probably blessed with a nice soft beard.  When I say blessed I mean you are one of the lucky ones who didn't look like a tenth grader in the eight grade.  Even if you didn't you had one of us as a friend and you know that it’s that brief period in the early stages of beard harvesting when a man can take the enamel off of a 57 Chevy with his chin.  It falls between the day you decide, "I'm gerrrr....owin' a beard!" and can last anywhere from two to three days or longer.  (I don't know why I feel the need to express myself in the voice of Jackie Gleason

but that's what I was going for there).  Anyway... I'm Looking in the mirror thinking, "Yeah this is looking cool.." and I'm thinking that I'm starting to that tough guy look like Jason Stathom. But, In actuality I'm starting to look more like this guy:

And.. so, once again, I'll probably wuss out and shave it off today so I won't be eyeballed suspiciously when I go to Wal-Mart. 

Stupid Pill

About a year an a half ago I found myself in a stressful situation.  I spent most of my day driving around in a truck with an awful seat.  The lumbar support had broken the first week of the job and I knew that asking for something like that to be fixed by the company mechanics would have caused me great ridicule.  I imagine pulling up next to a bay with three or four guys dropping the transmission out of a ten

ton dump truck and saying,  "uh guys if you get time can you fix the lumbar support in my seat... my back is starting to hurt."
So I just used whatever I could find for back support.  My favorite object that seemed to work the best was a cd case that I would shove into the void.  It was hard but it kept me from slumping too much. Regardless, backaches were part of my life.

The job became really stressful when we fell behind schedule.  I was the one who had to play catch up.  If I didn't, the job would simply not get done.  I found myself cursing a lot.  Most of the swearing was directed at bad drivers and my "supervisor".  I would be so on edge just trying to keep from getting hit by a manned or womanned vehicle.  It took me a year and a half to figure out the time and places to go and not to go.  For instance:
a) Stay off the main highways on Fridays and 3 to 4 P.M.
b) Avoid all schools around 2:30 P.M. to 3:30 P.M.
c) keep conversations short and stick to business
d) after 3 in the morning, yield at every light regardless of color and look both ways

Maybe it's just me and my personality but I find that the minute I figure something out, I'm ready to be done with it.  Example:  I've been a musician since I was very young and before I ever learned to play the guitar I would fantasize about playing music.  Once I finally learned to play I realized that all the songs I loved were very boring to play and once I learned them I lost interest in them.  My job I guess had become the same way.

All of this boils down to me becoming depressed and stressed out.  I had to get some sort of help.  Don't you wish you could just be honest and tell your doctor.   "Okay I hate my job but I have to do it because I don't know what else I'm going to do.  Can you just give me something legal that I can take to make me forget about it when I get home?"

So, my doctor gives me Zoloft.  Suddenly everything is slightly brighter.  I hear the birds chirping again...  There's actually a breeze blowing...  Oooh...   is that a caterpillar I see crossing the road?  Wow, what a journey that little fella has!

Every conversation is:  "Hello!  Good how are you?  Can't complain."   "Wouldn't do you any good if you did!"  "Ha ha ha!"   I'm thinking I'm on an episode of the Truman Show and then suddenly:
"WATCH OUT YOU STUPID ...!"   "PUT THE PHONE DOWN AND DRIVE YOU IDIOT!!"

(few seconds of huffing and puffing)

Here I am thinking these pills were supposed to keep me from getting upset.  I carefully and nervously pull back onto the road..... and mutter to myself,  "You can't fix stupid with a pill."

Daily Workup: Introduction

My wife and I have noticed that,  over the course of our 13 years of marriage, we have these certain moments in time where we really connect.  These little moments in time, of course, tend to come at strange hours such as three o' clock in the morning when we finally give up on tryingon for at least two hours until the first one yawns then it's another hour of "okay let's go to sleep now",  followed by several instances of "OK, one last thing and I'll be quiet."
to go back to sleep.  At three A. M. the lights come on followed by a brief staring contest and eventually one of us musters enough strength to say what is on his or her mind.  After that it's

My least favorite connection that we make is the early morning getting ready for work connection.  It seems like the more behind schedule we are, the more we have to talk about.  We just have to tell each other about our dreams, what we think the dreams mean and how we think we're both a little bit psychic.   My most recurrent morning topic of lately has been "Any and Everything That Pisses Me Off!".  I think it stems from hating my (previous) job.  Nevertheless all of the irritating things that everyday people do or have ever done in the past seem to come flooding back into my memory which in turn raises my blood-pressure and heart rate so much that my wife compares it to a morning exercise routine she simply dubbed my "Daily Workup".

Unfortunately, I lost my job that I hated so much and now I am enjoying life right now.  My angry morning  routine has come to a halt.  However, I think I have a good arsenal of work-ups stored in my memory bank so I will try to recall them.  It's funny looking back at yourself in the past during times of great stress and realizing just how hilarious the whole thing is. When I look back at my most stressful times I imagine them in fast motion and like a Charlie Chaplin film and some of them are quite funny.  I hope you agree!  Nevertheless, I have no idea where this blog is going so just hang on and let's take a ride!

When to Call Yourself a Grownup

I've always said that no matter how old I'm getting, I still feel like a child.  I don't have to wonder any more whether my parents felt the same way at my age.  I don't even have to ask them.  We all do.  Except, maybe, that select few who have never had a monster under their bed or in their closet.  We all know an exception or two.  The rest of us may ponder the question: "when exactly are we to call ourselves grown ups?"  I don't think there is any simple answer.  However, this morning I had an experience that lead me to believe I may actually be a grown up and I'm hoping it will help you realize the same.  


Did you ever have to stay at home alone when you were younger?  Nowadays I'm sure that's unheard of but those of you who have experienced the fear of being home alone can surely relate to what I'm talking about.  You'll probably remember a certain time when you were there in that big old house by yourself in broad daylight with no dark corners for monsters or demons to hide in.   Nevertheless you hear a strange noise and you immediately imagine the worst!  That THING inside the walls that you're certain has been after you since you were eight years old finally comes out to get you!  Maybe that disturbingly gigantic, freakish one-eyed cat down the street made its way into your house looking for food but decides a eight year old boy will suffice.  You get the point.

Well today I was home alone and had two different Pandora Radio stations going in each room to keep me motivated.  I have 80's hairband rock going in the living room and my studio has  a much more laid back blues station going.  Neither are very loud.  Just enough to offer a change of scene.  I imagine it as if I'm walking down Bourbon Street from venue to venue.  Anyhow, I thought I would sit in the Blues Room and sip on my coffee when I heard a sound as if someone climbed through a window and knocked over a plant and then quickly got upon his/her/its feet and then attempted to find me (the victim).  At least that's the image I quickly dismissed in my mind and then said to myself, "Nah."  It took me a matter of three whole seconds to figure out the wind picked up, blew over a nearly empty dish liquid bottle into the sink which landed on a plastic fork sending it across the room.  My heart didn't even skip a beat.  Now none of this is really profound but I realized then and there that I would have to actually see a witch, goblin, burglar etc. crawling through my window to become even slightly amused while home alone in broad daylight.  I was almost saddened by this dullness that I've grown accustomed to.  At the same time though, I realized then and there that because of that very reason I can now call myself a grown up.  So the next time you are unaffected by a strange bump in the night (or day), I hope you will use that experience as a hint, just as I did, towards knowing how utterly uneventful and un-frightning the world actually is when peering through the eyes of a grownup.