What is fear?

Fear is an emotion induced by a perceived threat which causes entities to quickly pull far away from it and usually hide. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. In short, fear is the ability to recognize danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it (also known as the fight-or-flight response) but in extreme cases of fear (horror and terror) a freeze or paralysis response is possible….. Nice definition.

But why are we “fearful”?

Some say it is the perceived danger that awaits us in the future and yet when true danger becomes a part of the present we still handle that very same danger with no more fear than that of which we wasted endless emotion in the beginning. Should we waste precious moments of our lives fearful of what may or may not ever transpire? Allowing our minds to twist and distort unwanted images keeping us locked in fear for eternity? This thought process seems destined for depression?


Fear of success keeps us from succeeding, while the fear of failure leaves us tied to an individual’s perception of what success may become. A man can fear being hurt and still perform to the best of his abilities while another may fear being hurt only to huddle and hide never finding his true maximum potential.

The fear of the unknown, of being alone, the fear of repercussion, the fear of rejection, the fear of love or being loved, the fear of being hated, unaccepted, rejected by a group, a pod, a few, many, the whole. The fear of death or dying.

Fear freezes your ability to move, think react, while still driving, pushing you through the most unimaginable.  Fear can leave you acting out in anger or laughing nervously while immersed in distrust of those around you.

Is fear comprised of nothing more than a series of actions provoked through uncertainty and despair? Should we become friends with our fears, embracing our fears as one within ourselves or leave them as unattached, emotionless moments.  If I choose to become friends with my fears will I understand them better? May I distance myself from the future and live in only the present thusly conquering the here and now?

I feel as though a majority of the last 20 years my soul has thrived upon fear, the notion of being fearful, and all emotion associated with fear. My fearful mind tires from the endless onslaught of what ifs, and fearful disasters that never happen. My mind weakens a little more everyday from trying to become acknowledged or accepted out of fear of rejection. Fear of failure has kept my mind cluttered, cloudy and weighted with negatives for far too long.

I believe fear is what we make of it and if we make it out to be nothing than what is fear?


Heyyyy Yoooouuuuuuuu????




Nothing perturbs me more than forgetting someones name!

Oh I am sure there are many problems in this world that should truly annoy me more like; a lack of world peace, human strife, homelessness, crime, abuse, that swirling garbage vortex somewhere in the Pacific ocean, blah, blah, blah. Yet for some reason looking straight into an individuals eye as they walk right up shadowing you in their presence while ringing true your God-given name as though announcing the Kings guests, leaves me with sweaty palms, nervous eyes and a blank dim witted 40 yard stare as no inclination of vowel, consonant or combined syllables comes to mind!

This rare little encounter leads of course to a quick “cover up” in conjunction with an “investigative” phase of your conversation. You know, “cover up” with a nervous laugh, and knowledgeable grin, then let them speak for a while, hoping, praying, something, anything will jog your memory! “Investigate” every word as their stories ramble and go on! Mean while your brain scrambles, you begin arguing with yourself intensely while this poor person stands across from you without an inkling of knowledge you may just be losing your mind:

John, no, no! Jerry, Jeff, Jack, Joe ah shit, did it start with a J? Brian, Bob, Ben, Bill, Ken, Fuck! Fuck, Fuckity Fuck! He has kids right? They play with my kids right? Say something, saaaayyyy sssooooommmeeettthhing! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH WHY CANT YOU SAY SOMETHING USEFULL, CANT YOU SEE I AM SCREAMING AT YOU IN MY HEAD!!!!!! ESP,ESP,ESP!!!!!

Shit he’s looking at me, he knows! He knows I don’t know his Goddamn name! He knows! Shit! Calm down, don’t panic,  I guess I could just come clean and ask? You know a simple; hey man I don’t mean to be rude, but I just can’t seem to remember your name? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! WHAT KIND OF ASSINIE IDEA IS THAT? It wouldn’t work, it couldnt work; the guy gave you the bro-hug when he walked up! Anyone who gives you the bro-hug is close right! Shit, shit, shit! Think!!!!!!!

Bro Hug

Oh crap what did he just say? Who cares I’ll just nod and say “uh-huh” you can’t go wrong with that right? Uh-huh. mm-hmm, Lets see, Tom, Terry, Tony, Mike? Damn! AAAHHHHHHH WHAT IS YOUR FREAKING GOD DAMN NAME!!!!!!!

Then it happens, the moment when all conversation has been exhausted, not a word has been uttered leading you to a positive I.D. and the bro-hug returns with a heartfelt: it was great to see ya man! To which you reply; Yeah, Youuuuu-uuuu Hope we can see each other real soon, take care “buddy”.  Ah God damn I used the “buddy” line! Now he knows for sure! No one uses the “Buddy” line unless they have no clue who the hell they are talking too! Man, I am a freaking tool! Pat, Peter, Paul, Perry, Perc- ah hell I give up!

As you walk away a feeling of failure overcomes you, dread holds true for the next encounter you may or may not have with this individual. All because you couldn’t remember a name that sat on the tip of your tongue like a pebble rocking gently back and forth, in then out of the waterline.  A name, a title, a series of words strung together by mom and dad to identify this particular individual to people such as yourself.  But not you, oh no you couldn’t remember it! That supercomputer we call a brain just seems to be a few micro-processors shy of a working unit on you pally! Yep you are definitely the dimwhittedest of them…… and that’s when it happens.

Tim, his name was Tim.  Sonofa……….



Dont drive angry-DONT DRIVE ANGRY!

Strike three! You are outta here! Or should be?



Well my darlings, I must apologize for being absent for the last three weeks.  Between work, little league baseball, 4-H, the ranch and life in general there has been little time for me to pony up to a computer and write (no I still have not moved into the modern age and purchased a laptop or tablet).

So whats bothering Betty tonight? What has ruffled Betty’s skirt and driven her to break the silence of the last three weeks? Unfortunately its baseball.

I say unfortunately because I believe baseball to be the last bastions of pure sporting left to behold. Baseball has and always will captivate me, leave me bewildered and mesmerized as play after play with all its strategy and purity is performed before my very eyes.  I love it! So when my children ask if they can play little league baseball of course the answer is yes!

Now I am no virgin to the ways of little league baseball! The politics, coaches hoarding players and building teams to hopefully ensure a championship! What ever! The name of the game is winning, and winning is what it is all about! Betty coached for 5 years in various levels and thoroughly enjoyed watching kids build their skills and feel success as plays were massaged, rules enforced and just for a moment greatness was felt! The building blocks of success for the young! Heavy sigh…..

So whats grinding on me about little league at this very moment? What has me screaming  bullshit towards the ump over a bad call that was obviously a strike? Jumping up and down like a crazed fan who just saw a double play for the first time live?


Ladies and Gentlemen in all my years I have never and I mean NEVER seen such a poor example of sportsmanship from both parents and coaches alike! Every night at the ball field there is some Al Bundy wanna be still reliving his 4 touchdowns in a single game illustration_2010_01_09_rockwell_inside_artfrom high school! This fool at the top of his lungs is screaming at a teenage umpire about how that last call was shit! Every four letter word in the book is thrown at this poor hapless youngster who is just trying to pass down his love for the game through umpiring only to become emotionally damaged by some fat ass 40 something threatening to kick his ass for a bad call made on his kid! Hey fat ass guess what little junior is not the next Buster Posey! He may never wear a Yankees uniform and unless I missed something, little league is supposed to be fun! Not much fun when old dad is near cardiac arrest over a call made by a child just trying to do the right thing and not even getting paid for it!

Then there is the upper leagues, “Majors” where ball playing really gets serious! My sons team is 18-2, no other team is close, yet it never ceases to amaze me the shit talking that goes on from both parents and coaches of the defeated teams.  On the field coaches are acting like asses! Yelling at their kids after a loss things like; you are a disgrace, you make all of us look bad, do you like being losers because that is just what you are a bunch of losers! Or better yet, when one of our kids get on base near the opposing teams dugout, coaches from the opposing team are belittling our players! Are you kidding me? Heres and idea, practice! I know novel concept huh? We practice six days a week and the kids cant wait to get together because thier caoch makes it fun! Holy shit FUN on the ball field, thats just unheard of!!!!

ladies and gentlemen the last time I checked these were kids. Kids who play baseball on break between classes in school, kids who would play where they want, when they want, with or without us adults intervening, kids who pretend they are major league stars for only a moment while up at bat! Kids who play for fun! Thats right they play because it isUnknown-8 fun!!! So I pose a simple question, why have we as adults decided the game is all about us? Why have we as adults taken it upon ourselves to put pressure on these kids to perform to standards that can’t be met, and most important of all why are we as adults admonishing them, belittling them and treating them like shit when they lose, instead of being the coaches we are supposed to be and working with them to create better players, better sportsman, and better human beings all through the venue of one of the greatest games ever played? Why?

I watched two grown men from opposing teams almost come to blows over a supposed “bad” call the other night! Not only was it an embarrassment for the teams, it was an embarrassment for the adults and it sure as hell was an embarrassment for the children. I know in the middle of the game I wouldn’t want to look up while at bat to see what all the commotion was about and find my dad poking some guy in the chest calling him an asshole! What the hell?

So all you part-time dads, Al Bundy’s of the world and all around abusive, small-minded, low self-esteem losers, listen up! Its baseball! It’s supposed to be fun, your kids are supposed to have fun win or lose (yes losing is no fun, but teaching a child how to lose with dignity only to win again at a later date is priceless) then leave the park feeling good! Not feeling like they are losers, or their coach hates them, or they let their parents down, or wondering why little Barry Bonds jr.’s dad is being arrested and hauled off to jail for beating the shit out of little Derek Jeters dad over a bad call.

Pull your heads out of your asses parents and lets allow our children to PLAY BALL!