Numbers, Boxes, and Grids

For the first time in years, we de-Christmassed our house on the weekend between December 25 and New Year's. This flew in the face of a previously-established tradition where we waited for the following weekend to pack it all up. But man it felt good.

It seemed like the festive decor excused itself even prior to St. Nick's appearance as well. Sitting in the den and gazing at our tree just two days before the plump one's home invasion, we witnessed two different strands of tree lights first light up and then burn out completely before our eyes. 

Neil Young's classic lyric "it's better to burn out than to fade away" from "Hey, Hey, My, My" couldn't had fit the situation any better. We were surprised and amazed by what we had seen. It was like seeing a tree fall in a forest and hearing it make a sound. In any event, it just meant the lights, the now-famous tree that rained needles and anything green and red needed to hit the bricks ASAP. So they did. 

With Chistmas 2014 officially loaded back into the closet, we grew hungry for more. The purge was on. So we hastly discussed our new targets and then ruthlessly attacked. 

The judge, jury and executioner spared nothing and no time. Old or unused shirts, skirts, pants and coats soared across the room headed for a cardboard coffin. We filled several of these boxes, stuffed them into our wagon and gladly gave them a chance for an afterlife on someone else's back. 

The boxes were gone, the floors vacuumed and the furniture placed back into its pre-tree layout. Oddly, the sad, somewhat empty feeling we would usually share after Christmas Cleanup in years past wasn't felt at all. Instead, an optimistic peace came over us. It seemed as though we each had a new, clear invitation to step away from the joys and pains of the previous year and truly move on and into the new one. So we accepted it.  

It's silly to think that merely a set of new numbers on a grid will make us let go of old thinking, old behaviors and old ways of being. But even if it can help to put some old stuff behind us, then it's a start. 

It turns out that the calendar is a pretty easy tool for checking in on life's progress. Those years can really pile up quickly if you're so lucky. 

Longest Night. Shortest Day.

This winter solstice came and went just as it's done throughout my life. "The official start of winter," the local weatherman beamed on the morning news. But this year was the first where I truly noticed its impact. After all, it was hard not to.

A blue dawn which seemed would never come finally yielded to a dreary, gray day. The tangible darkness somehow even managed to creep inside the house to fight with the outlaw 40-watt bulbs within certain lamps. By noon, sunset looked as though it was only minutes away and I wondered if this was how living through an Alaskan winter felt.

But it wasn't just me who sensed the darkness of the shortest day. My whole family was tired, even the newest of us. Our motions were slow and lethargic and our den finally earned its name. The perfect day for pajamas, slippers and a night cap, I thought. If only we still wore night caps.  

Night caps or not, people have always celebrated this time of darkness when warmth and sunshine seem so far away. And it would make sense, too, since this solstice marks the painfully slow parade of the longer days, where light builds upon light and ultimately the warmth of summer's party prevails. 

It's easy to turn inward during these dark days and nights. We can take this time to explore our own selves, our own thoughts, fears and souls. We can take this as a gift to surrender to the darkness and let it rule. At least for now, after the solstice has passed and we have the optimism to know that those short nights and long, light-filled days will be here soon. Until the summer solstice. 

There is A Free Lunch

It does exist. No strings attached. No favors lined up to be called in later. Sure, the cynic is still alive and well (especially in L.A.) but that doesn't mean there aren't individuals who want to buy your lunch without something in return. Yes, there are those who actually want to treat you to a meal simply because they want to treat you to a meal.

It can be a business colleague. A parent. It can even be a spouse as strange as that might seem. For generations, this simple gesture of picking up someone's meal goes a long way. And as we've become more dependent on fast food, casual dining, take out and smartphone deliveries, it seems like the chances to buy someone's meal have seriously increased. Because if this, many of us are taking advantage of the opportunity.

But why? What is the meaning of all of this? While it's not as tangible as a physical gift (although some might argue differently given certain gastrointestinal effects of particular cuisine), this fulfilling time spent together is what's invaluable, no matter the price on the menu.

  

The Silent Community at the Bean House

It didn't matter if no one ever looked up. It wasn't important if there were any conversations. And it never was really a big deal when no eye contact was made. 

What mattered was that we were all there together. Despite the fact that our noses were in our laptops, our earbuds still letting in the baristas' overblown tales of dates gone bad and the sobering disruption of winter air as the door swung open and the others came and went. 

For those hours, we were a silent band just doing our collective thing in a coffee house. Regular people working remotely and each deciding to leave our homes or offices and work there. 

Regardless of the reason, we were there. Silent, completely anti-social but there. Together. 

Subconscious Scheduling

A warm December Saturday found us at the half-shaded neighborhood park. The three of us crunched through the fallen leaves and up the steep hill to enjoy the see-saws and swings, slides and balance beams together. 

I watched my pre-schooler launch himself headfirst down the slide again and again. He'd look up for approval and I'd nod, but I wasn't really there with him. I was thinking about reaching back out to an old friend named Brad.  

Brad and I met at a job over 10 years ago. We had since worked together at few other places on and off and had always kept in touch. Often, there'd be  long stretches where we wouldn't grab a beer for months, even years. But recently, I had invited him and his family over to visit via a text message. 

Predictably, this was over the holidays and last minute-ish so they couldn't make it. But it seemed like a good time to try again. 

Suddenly, a guy who looked like Brad came trouncing across the mulch in a red vest. It sure looked like him and soon I confirmed it. He was carrying his 2-year-old daughter and walking right at me as his wife followed. They had been out running errands on this part of town and wanted to reward their daughter with some play time. It was a drive for them and what a coincidence that we were there at the same time, too.  

Or was it?

Do these kinds of coincidences happen to you? Will you be thinking of a family member and they will call? Many times, I'll be thinking about an old high school buddy of mine and I'll bump into them at Lowe's or in the bathroom of a sports game. Every once in a while it'll be a college friend and I'll see their name in a news article, or have someone else mention knowing that person. And what, there are almost 7 billion of us on this rock now?

So why does this happen so frequently? Are our subconscious minds calling up their subconscious minds and setting a subconscious calendar event? 

You'll hear many claim they don't believe in coincidences. With all of these chance encounters happening so often to so many different people, I tend to agree. There must be some extrasensory connection that we can't see but still pulls us together. Surely, it's something that draws us physically together simply by emotion, desire and without question the divine. 

I'm glad you've noticed it, too.   

Beyond Brakelights

Changing your perspective changes you as well. Think about traffic. There's really nothing pretty about it on the street level. Those burning red lights all around, the dizzying back and forth and stop and start. It all gets to you eventually and the frustration builds.  

But ride an elevator 20 stories above that very same street and suddenly that string of red peacefully compliments the city's other hues. And instead of the horns, grinding brakes and muffled curses heard before, a bearable instrumental version of "Let It Be" serves as the backdrop. Not great. Not bad, either. And strangely, the song title somehow fits the moment.   

If only we could change our perspective so easily. In the throes of everyday living, it's hard to do so. Perceptions are cemented in our head space. Maybe it's how we see other people. People who may look or speak differently than us in that other car. 

Or situations. It might be the road you've been down a million times. Yet one day a flat tire forces you to get out at a spot where you discover a creek you never knew existed. 

Or ourselves. That person in the mirror will look a lot like the person in the mirror tomorrow. Sure, it takes a lot of work and gallons of therapy to notice changes but there can still be noticed in due time.  

So take yourself out and change your perspective some time. Chances are you will learn to see things differently. 

Interested in Everything

Well, not everything, everything. But I am learning there are few subjects that I'm not interested in learning something about. 

Every day, I see requests for this or that type writers/bloggers. Often, I wonder how much of a subject matter expert that writer truly is because if they're anything like I am, everything is interesting. Or I should say that everything has something interesting about it. 

Personally, my expertise varies. I write about advertising, fatherhood, sports, married life, the outdoors, human behavior and the list goes on. I write about writing and am convinced of its transformative and cathartic power. 

I write because I'm an observer and I have an opinion. I can't help but to read people or a situation or a dynamic in a room. I write because of the satisfaction provided when these nifty little combinations of characters can connect two people together and make them feel a certain way. 

I write because I am a writer. A copywriter. A blogger. A poet. A storyteller. A comic. A dreamer. 

I write to share things. More things. But still just some things. 

Baffling Juvenile Humans

When the soft-spoken man used the word "baffling" to describe children, I knew the adjective was absolutely perfect. Earlier that day, I had watched my 3 year old take out his crayons and proceed to color on our white furniture right before my eyes. Like he stared at me directly in my eyes from across the room and dug into the piece. 

This is the behavior the man calls utterly unexplainable. And every parent has experienced it in some form, fashion, or restitution payment. I respect the man and value his opinion deeply not just because of his wisdom and advice but also because his children had long since grown. Unfortunately, he also revealed that the baffling doesn't end with grade school. No, no it continues from the juvenile to the adolescent to the young adult phases of human beings. 

So that means we have a lot of head scratching in our future. 

Seriously, what rationale person would think red crayon on a white hutch could be anything but acceptable? Juvenile human beings do, that's who. And when the little bugger caught me trying to rub the wax off the wood later that day, he sneered at me like I was spray-painting over his life's work. 

I'm certain there will be loads of baffling acts, questions and behaviors as life goes on. Im also sure that teenagers are ten times more baffling. 

But at this point I'm just glad to know that I will simply live a big chunk of my life absolutely baffled. I must accept the fact that there is likely no logical explanation for some of the behavior of these juvenile human beings, adolescent human beings and young adult human beings. 

The Turning Point for the Little Blue Engine

Self doubt is a natural part of being human. And we all deal with it differently. Some are paralyzed by it while others seem to carry little to none at all. I think the majority of us live somewhere in the middle where our confidence can still allow us to overcome it. In a perfect world, we should all be honest with ourselves enough to recognize our own limitations. But not everyone can. So how do we overcome those feelings and invite success?

The famous children's book The Little Blue Engine was written back in 1930 and still serves as a great example of overcoming self-doubt. Most people forget how our protagonist had to deal with her own reluctancies. After arriving at the scene, the desperate clown asked her to help move the train. The Little Blue Engine's head spun and her immediate reaction was to put all of the facts on the table in open evaluation.

"I'm not very big," said the Little Blue Engine. "They use me only for switching trains in the yard. I have never been over the mountain."

All of these facts, of course, are true. We are hearing some of her own self doubt. At this pivotal point, it sure doesn't seem like the Little Blue Engine is going to help. But then there becomes a motive and that motive is emotional.

"But we must get over the mountain before the children awake," said all the dolls and the toys.

In this world, a morning with no toys would be utterly incomprehensible. There must be toys out before the children awake, of course. Then, the kicker. The Little Blue Engine sees a glimpse of what would happen if she didn't act.

The very little engine looked up and saw the tears in the dolls' eyes. And she thought of the good little boys and girls on the other side of the mountain who would not have any toys or good food unless she helped.

That's all she needed. That push. And the rest is that beautiful "I think I can" mantra. Self doubt needs motivation, purpose and confidence to erase it. It means finding your "why" and visualizing the affects of inaction.

Can you?

I think I can.

Just Say No to One-Upping

Everyone knows a one-upper. You know, the one person who always feels like sharing a "better" story on the heels of yours. Only that story is not better. Never. In fact, most times it’s flat, annoying and exceedingly awkward for a group in a social setting. Most know the one-upper’s story is merely a cry for attention but they are still torn between genuinely feeling sorry for the guilty party and wishing a magical bouncer would appear and firmly escort he or she out of the room.

It’s a delicate dance, dealing with a one-upper. No one wants to be rude. But no one wants to lose those lingering effects of a good joke, persuasive point or emotional moment to senseless and often times unbelievable blabber. Really? We challenge the one-upper in our heads. Do you really have a funnier story than the one which almost made me spew my drink on my wife’s shoulder? Probably not, and now you’re just talking nonsense again.  

It’s interesting to note the behavior when someone realizes that someone else is a one-upper. Because we humans usually give each other the benefit of the doubt, at first the one-upper is given the stage and the opportunity to receive questions. As the group conversation evolves however, and the proverbial mic returns to the one-upper, behaviors change. Eye contact breaks. Hands check cell phones more often. They are fewer and fewer members interested in the conversation until eventually all follow-up questions dry up. The one-upper is all but neutered and unfortunately most group conversation then break apart.  

Now if you just read this and have written a better post about one-uppers, please keep it to yourself.

Drive of Mind

A good, country drive every once or so often helps the soul. Whenever the scenery around starts to itch. Whenever it's hard to see beyond the backyard.

Just go find those four lonely lanes, breathe in the ribs from that rusty BBQ shack and simply let cold November air be that chattering wake up call.

There's always good on down the road.

Shorts in Winter

It's a real treat. While the rest of the country is shoveling snow off their driveway, I went for a jog today wearing shorts and a T-shirt. 

Warm weather provides freedom to go and to do. It doesn't stifle you, your body, or your thoughts. It lets you remove all those layers that otherwise shield you or protect you or won't let others in. It lets you be yourself because it exposes you and reveals your vulnerablity. It lets you move better, see better and breathe better. 

I say move to the warmth, the light and you'll always find the goodness. 

Changing a headlight

It shouldn't require a trip to the dealership, nor a special order for a special part.

It shouldn't mean taking off your front tire so you can access it through the wheelwell. It should also not cause you to bend back said wheelwell liner and cut your hand on the hard-formed plastic. Also, let's avoid having to break the little plastic anchor screws that hold the liner once the replacement light is in while we're at it. 

But my car did. All of those things. 

It's humbling to think about all of the things in life that we expect to be so easy and are so incredibly not. That's why it's such a treat when life's perceived challenges become easily conquered. 

Guess the lesson here is just to take it steady as she goes. 

Then hope there's some great conclave of auto headlight manufacturers who declare that going forward all headlights will hereby be installed in the exact same way; easily.

Splinters

My little boy had a splinter today. A first. Just makes me remember what a pain in the ass splinters are. Get one and it usually means home surgery in the bathroom with tweezers, rubbing alcohol and a little match flame sterilization trick.  

But this little splinter also made me realize that this will be the first of his many splinters. And falls. And scrapes. And hopefully not too much worse.

So as he goes out to tackle the world it's a reminder of how there is always pain along the way. But try your best to avoid the splinters, I'll say. Those are the kind of boo boos that can stay with you and can fester if you don't take care of them. 

Sure, so most splinters will work themselves out. Yes, it takes a little time but it's possible. But heading to the bathroom with the tweezers definitely does the trick too. 

Strike the match. 

Appreciated

Saying thank you seems like such a foreign concept in a world where so any people feel entitled. When we truly appreciate the efforts or words of a fellow human being we become more connected and more human. 

Now, pass the gravy. 

Raking

The noise alone stands apart as the bristly plastic arms scratch away at the hardening soil. The leaves, caught and ripped away, reveal the clean-looking grass. It can breathe again. 

In many ways raking is therapy. Taking the fallen, dead past and brushing it aside. It's clearing the table for the next guests. And it has to happen for the cycle to repeat. 

I have often wondered why people enjoy raking leaves, having not raked in some time. Upon observation, it seems tedious, even mundane. But just 15 minutes in, I suddenly wanted a bigger yard to work as the satisfaction of such a simple act grew with each stroke. 

And when I was finished and my small plot on Earth was clear, I looked up at the tree branches above. There were only a few leaves left and they were waving to me. 

Just letting me know more leaves would fall, more work would come and change never stops. 

Sadness of Loss

Michael Brown was a human being. He was killed by another. That is the bottom line. Regardless of how.

As a society, we must make sure that we remember that every human being deserves love and respect. 

If we lose our ability to value the dignity of every person, then we lose our humanity as well.

A sad night.

Write it then

What else is there to do but write? You call yourself a writer than you must prove it. I'd reckon this is true of any profession. Doctors practice. Lawyers debate. It'd time to pick up the computer and get this stuff out onto screen.

It resonates. It connects. It's what brings us all together at the end of the day. Some people have a gift at conveying what they mean with these little characters.

But it does take doing. It takes action. It takes sacrifice, commitment and strong belief.

It takes writing, friend.

Extra Slipp'ry

Fried Chicken and boating is not a good idea.  You think a boat is dangerously slippery before you got a handful of extra-crispy coating caked across your digits, you ain’t seen NOTHING yet.

Royal Flush?

The first thing I do when I go to a hotel room is check the bathroom.  And I don’t think I’m alone here. It’s a quick slide across the bed, a sneak peak out the window and then its straight to the bathroom.  Like I’m expecting some kind of gold-plated new toilet design.  Some extravagant, op-art toilet design that’s hidden from the world and is only featured in MY hotel. Whether it’s a motel 6 or the Ritz Carlton it’s always just a regular old Bemis toilet bowl with a regular old toilet paper dispenser with regular old toilet paper that does the same DAMN thing.

The Dumb Hawk

I saw a hawk circling at the airport the other day.  So what exactly is that guy thinking? What kind of mouse or squirrel is going to be scurrying out in the middle of a runway?  Let’s put it this way, he was a very thin hawk.  And not the brightest flyer out there.  Take a hawk in your engines and you’re not going anywhere.