Tag: angry at the world

Age of Information Overload

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I hate starting anything with this line but here goes.

Do you remember when?

I remember a time when the sun came up you were told to be outside all day. You were also reminded to have your butt inside before the sun went down or you were going to bed hungry because you would miss dinner. I remember when breakfast was before school or 8 on the weekends. Lunch was at noon, and dinner was promptly served at 6pm. I remember when a single television was in the house broadcasting three (major network) channels, one public channel and a handful of fuzzy channels. I also remember the house having one telephone, it was in the middle of the kitchen, it hung from the wall and it had a dial. No private sneaky conversations, you better have manners because everyone heard what you were saying. I remember when a stereo was a gigantic piece of furniture. It had am/fm and a phonograph. If I was lucky enough to be left alone that sucker was blaring AC/DC! (insert rebel smile here) And smile you did, not because of the music per say, but because you knew your parents hated you touching this status symbol, and it was so much louder than your mono phonograph. (remember those?) I remember when we played outside in the fields, running through horse crap, cow poop and mud. We drank water from a garden hose and ate fruit straight off the trees if we needed a snack! I remember when you scuffed your knee or shredded your elbow you sucked it up and hid it from mom. Because nothing was worse than having your mom call you a cry baby in front of your friends. That same theory also worked for scuffles with your brothers, sisters or your friends. Yeah I remember when…..

Why am I talking like an old man who just finished walking up a hill both ways in 6 feet of snow barefoot with shorts on because that’s all my parents could afford? Well let me tell you….

Sitting at work today I received a call on my cell phone, it was the middle child. He was highly agitated at the oldest. As I was in the process of diffusing the situation my oldest calls me on the other line (can I say other line with a cell phone?) As I take his call putting the middle child on hold I think to myself, aren’t they in the same room? Before I can ask this question they both begin arguing with each other! A full-blown screaming match, and I am getting it all live through the latest, greatest Apple technology! I calmly handled the situation, sent them on their merry little ways and proceeded to place the phone back into my pocket. Disaster averted! Something my parents couldn’t have done in their day without the use of technology. Yeah! Technology…

Then it dawns on me, technology may be screwing things up in the parenting department as well! Sure we have the ability to know where are kids are at any given time. (Just call them) Sure I have the ability to handle domestic disputes over the phone keeping piece and harmony in the family nucleus. But what I ‘m really doing is disconnecting them from reality! In the “Real” world they need to have skills to handle arguments and disagreements with poise, and control. In the “Real” world they can’t just call their mommy or daddy to handle the situation for them. In the “Real” world you can’t just start ignoring someone by staring at your phone in a trance, like Ghandi is speaking to you through Facetime bringing wisdom and harmony to your universe.

So what is a parent to do? Well I did what any calm, realistic, patient, educated parent would do. I opened up the browser on my phone and began plugging in key words, searching for the answers to my questions on parenting all through the ease of my cell phone or “compuphone” as I prefer to call it. This search of course takes 15 minutes out of my otherwise productive day and before I log off I make sure to check my tweets, my blog, Facebook, the New York times, ESPN, and last but certainly not least my e-mail accounts. It’s then and only then I realize its not technology that’s the problem, its me….

I am on information overload! It’s such a double-edged sword too. I like being able to obtain all the information I need at the touch of a button. Lost? Ask my GPS. Need information ask Google, Firefox, or Ask Jeeves. Want to play video games? Angry Birds and Poker at your finger tips sir! Want to purchase something on the spot? Ebay and Amazon have app’s for that! Need to talk to someone but just don’t feel like the burden of actually having to speak to them? Text baby text, text as fast as your oversized, pudgy little fingers can fly across the virtual keyboard! But something has to give. Sanity must reign supreme at some point. There has to be a tipping point on the scales of social anxiety. In my ability to prioritize and utilize the boundless amounts of information that bombard my pea sized brain everyday!

The reality; I miss being able to go someplace without the urge to “check my computaphone”. I wonder what life will be like in 25 years when technology has surpassed our own ability to process information. I miss walking out the door of our house and traveling through my day without the “need” to check my computaphone every couple of minutes! What happened to conversation, what happened to research, what happened to wanting to know something as opposed to needing to know something. What happened to self exploration, finding things on your own and learning how to process that information. What happened to trial and error. We no longer have trial and error in our lives. Want to know how to do something, look it up on YouTube. It’s there! I mean in hindsight, I guess all those things are still there, but are we saturating ourselves so fast and at such a young age that we may be doing a dis-service to ourselves and our children? Is our ability to absorb and process the information diminishing? Are the things we are seeing, not only as adults but as kids scaring or de-sensitizing us to the point of callousness?

Our children can no longer play outside all day or they are considered “latchkey” kids “troublemakers”. So they stay inside either playing video games ( a completely different topic of disgust I will tackle later) or stuck in front of the computer wandering aimlessly through the web unsupervised. Our knowledge of the creepy boogie man that lurks around every corner has us protecting them 24-7 and in some regards, rightfully so. Our children are bombarded with sensory overload, watching the most inappropriate of things, whether or not you are there, because if you havent purchased them the unlimited data plan, they damn well know a friend who has it! Kids today can’t handle even the smallest of confrontations. They don’t know how! Texting has taken the place of talking. The power of the spoken word is lost. The power of the unspoken or written word is open to translation. Leaving many children with their underdeveloped youth/teenage minds wondering the true meaning in a persons last text. It means bullying is no longer confrontational person/person. It can now be done at anytime day or night. Remember the bully from your school as a child. Nothing made you feel better than the moment you went to class or loaded onto the bus and went home. Whew! Dont have to deal with that jerk till tomorrow. Not anymore, that same jackwagon armed with a computer or cell phone can torment you until you feel cornered, outnumbered and alone. No kid should ever feel that way.

So what is the answer? I don’t think all this glorious technology should disappear. I do miss the days of old, where one had a moment without knowing what was going on in every facet of our lives. I do think technology can be used for good. It does help with research and finishing homework, learning new cultures and expanding our minds, taking our imaginations to places we never dreamed possible. I do believe we need to monitor our children better. This I am entitled mentality that many of our children carry around because we as parents don’t know how to set boundaries and limits needs to end. We as parents need to also get off the cell phone, step away from the computer and engage our children more! Have a time during the evening where you all talk together as a family. Implement a “cell free” zone in your house. For us its the dinner table. No cell phones at the dinner table. Now don’t get me wrong, I am just as guilty as the next guy. I hear my cell phone beep and I am the first to “draw” like a gun fighter at the OK corral! I am just hoping my kids can say I remember when and actually remember, not have it tied to some great new gadget they purchased or received.

My point being, I am afraid one day technology will actually think for us, or out think us, we will no longer have control, and its at that point the Terminators will win. Where is John Connor when you need him…

Purging the think tank…

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I have decided as of late there are a few things I need to get off my chest.  A few opinions that continue to rattle around in this perplexed brain of mine. Some may find them humorous, some may not agree with them.  I am pretty sure it will not be my best work but I must get them off my chest just the same.

All my opinions and or ramblings stem from good old-fashioned observation.  Observation of family, media, television or just the average individual walking down the street.  Some may say I am judgmental, discriminatory or just plain narrow-minded.  I say poppycock! My observations merely point out what I consider the funnier moments, behaviors of life.  The things we all do and say weaving together the fantastic fabric blanketing our daily lives.

Now that I have justified my temporary existence here goes…

Number 1

I am sorry I feel the need to remind you that when you become over 40 you should dress appropriately!  I know you feel as though “on the inside” you are still 25 but wake up, you’re not! Wife beaters, high tops and hip hop jeans that you hold up with your “free” hand, make you look like a moronic douche!  Dont know who you are trying to impress their “G money” but every time you smile your face wrinkles up like a chinese shar pei! Thats ok though “Dog” the wrinkles hide well under that flat brimmed $60.00 baseball cap that apparently was designed to be worn backwards and over your sagging ear flaps? Being a bit of a baseball cap wearing aficionado, I never realized the creator was such a visionary he recognized the need early on to cover your ears and shade the back of your neck as opposed to your eyes! Oh yeah by the way there “swagger”, that high school girl you just checked out while licking your 40-year-old pursed lips, she just vomited a little bit her mouth.  You basically just eye groped someone who could be your daughter! Trust me when I say, she don’t want to “get” with that! Word up homey, I wont knock you too bad, I mean I fully get the need for the multiple piercings! Where else are you going to store all that fine 3 and 4 carat cubic zirconium you flashing? Bling Bling bitches! Money in the hoooouuuussseee!!!!

Number 2

Valentines Day is coming which means its time for me to pick my advertising company of week! This is the company that most exemplifies what I hate about advertisers and the strange affliction they have with peddling their products at the expense of hard-working parents, husbands and dads!

Papa Murphy’s you are a winner! Ding Ding Ding!  Thank you Papa Murphy’s for taking the low road when it comes to valentines day!  Nothing says world-class, college drop out, slacker loser like a commercial peddling your heart-shaped pizza for Valentines day! A worried man is in the kitchen with a hand-held blender failing miserably at cooking a perfect Valentines day dinner, presumably for the girl he loves! Not only can’t he cook but he is also portrayed as a buffoon!  Poor guy, so pathetic and sad, thank goodness Papa Murphy’s is there to the rescue with a perfect heart-shaped pizza! Just what every woman wants on valentine’s day! And you thought “Jared” had the corner of this market all locked up! Little did you know that instead of spending $500-5000 on jewelry for Valentines Day if you had just spent $7.99 on a pizza you would have won her heart (get it? heart-shaped pizza, won her heart? hee hee)  and been money ahead all in the same night! Well our sad sack, moron did just that and you know what? It wasnt just for his girl, no it was for his wife and their three daughters! (All together now ahhhhhhhhh). He serves the pizza while they laugh at him for being a dork! Papa Murphy’s you suck! Purely from the standpoint I will not tolerate any company portraying hard-working parents like absolute incompetent boobs!

Just my opinion….

Number 3

Dear auto makers, please quit pandering to the public and create a car that is environmentally friendly, stylish with tons of horsepower.  I know you think you are onto something with this “electric” car thing, but has anyone addressed the concerns for what we are going to do with all the batteries when they are finished? Not to mention the fact that unless you are the Tesla sports car, to be electric you must look like a suppository on wheels (Prius)! What continues to astound me is with millions of highly educated people in this world, technology exploding faster than we can keep up with, why don’t we have a decent sized, attractive 50 mpg car? Why? Looking for a simple answer, thanks for listening.

Bye the way it also worries me that if we do flood the market with 50 mpg cars the price of fuel will skyrocket to make up the difference. Either way I think we are screwed.

So there you are, like I stated earlier, not my best work, but I really felt the need to vent. Someone mentioned to me today they were amazed at the things I wrote about, wondering how I came up with so much stuff to say.  I told them it was easy, the secret is to never turn off your brain.  It’s the only one you have so get to using it, you might be amazed at what comes from inside…

 

 

I’m having one of those days…..

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I’m having one of those days…

We have all heard this statement proclaimed at one time or another. Yet what does it mean? We automatically assume it refers to an absolute uncontrollable outcome.  A moment during a 24 hour period that spirals out of control, leaving the complainer in a state of irreversible turmoil.  I on the other hand would like to believe it may define a fantastic day! (hyper ecstatic) IM HAVING ONE OF THOSE DAYS! 🙂 Woo Hoo!

Yet the more I ponder that emotional direction , my theory falls flat on its face.  Heres why.

You see today I am having one of those days.  And no matter how much I try to save it, I keep falling short.  It’s like finding a hole in a dyke. You place one finger in the whole hoping to slow the flow of water, only to find another hole within arms reach.  You take your free hand and plug the new hole only to find another pop up around your feet.  Before to long you are spread eagle upon a dyke that you just can’t control!  (I’ll just let that image resonate for a while).

Today started out great! I made lunches the night before, set the coffee pot to start at precisely 0545 and I woke up on time.  The kids awoke without any problems, and breakfast went off without a hitch.  Most of the time I would have been very pleased with myself over the smooth flow of the morning.  Borderline patting myself upon the back as I watched the clock slowly ticking away towards departure time. Yet its then and only then, while at our highest confidence level things deteriorate rapidly.  This is where the (excuse the term) men are separated from the boys.

The youngest can’t find his lunch box! This is a perpetual problem we just can’t seem to get a handle on.  Heaven forbid you try to hurry him into locateing the damn thing! It is then and only then he finds the need to move slower. He says moving slowly helps him think, but I see the smirk on his face as he takes control my oldest childs morning!  The oldest is furious because now he will be late for zero period! He hates being late (got that from dad) and will do or say anything to create a reaction that gets people moving! (got that from dad too).  My daughter on the other hand is dressed, packed and ready to go. She is always the first one ready to head out the door. She reminds me very much of Lucy from the peanuts in her smugness.  All of my sons have been at the wrong end of “Lucy’s” controlling moods!  Ultimately resulting the proverbial “football” being pulled out at the last-minute resulting in someone staring at the sky in pain.  This morning she decides to remind every one of her status as “perfect” by making snide comments to the little on in passing.  She is not helping! The middle child, or as I like to refer to him “the puppet master” is slowly putting his shoes on listening intently.  He is not listening to see how he can help, mind you, oh no! This little future Jerry Springer, knows where and when to make the perfect inappropriate comment, sending all four of them into turmoil at once! Then as they all argue and fight he stands back, rubbing his hands together, interrupting just long enough to deliver little one liners, furthering the chaos! Step in, step out, laugh and manipulate. Throw in a couple of bouncers, some cameras, a studio audience, and this kid has a show! Dance puppets, dance!!

After getting the little heathens out the door, I kissed the wife told her good luck, and set to enjoying a hot cup of jo all alone.  Oh yeah, time to recoup!  Sure, like that is going to happen.

No sooner do I get the laundry started, the kitchen cleaned and dinner prepared, then my phone starts chirping at me! Guess who has a 9am meeting in town at the bank? Oh yeah its Betty!  So in thirty minutes time, I turned everything off, found the  dogs (oh by the way its raining and they are soaked), stoked the fire, changed the laundry and managed to get myself dressed and into town.  Walking into the bank with one minute to spare!  Deep breath! Finished my business at the bank, drove to the store, went to the feed store, and rushed back home!  Now I only have two hours to finish the laundry and complete the Banana bread I promised I would deliver before I head over to the barn so I may take care of our horses.  Once finished there, its off to pick up 4 kids on two different time schedules then back home in time to serve dinner before I head off to a club meeting in the next town.  Phew!

Now I am thinking I got this! Oh yeah, nothing old Betty can’t handle on a daily basis! But before I am able to gather my knickers I realize the laundry I washed earlier had no soap in the dispenser!   The dogs I brought inside, well after being so nice as to let them into the house, one of them decided to make my carpet his personal toilet! If that weren’t enough to send you over the edge I decided to take a gander at the kids rooms! And the kids rooms have an appearance that suggests hurricane “ass beating” is going to come on shore very soon. I finally get a moment to continue my Banana bread making only to discover that when I was at the store, even though I was holding my grocery list as if my life depended on it, I forgot eggs and butter!  Seriously EGGS and FREAKING BUTTER! How the hell am I supposed to bake without two of the three key ingredients!  I feel the day spiraling out of control! Oh and don’t get me started on our bathrooms! Yeah that was supposed to be squeezed into my day today as well!  Thinking that maybe, just maybe my kids have a heart and have thought of dear old Betty, I pop into the bathrooms hoping to see them clean and organized! AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! I think I have passed out drunk in cleaner public restrooms!  GGGRRRRRRRRRR! I quit!!!!

So there you have it, I am having one of those days. No positive connotations, no hope what so ever of recovery, spiraling out of control, all I can do is take a deep breath and wonder, what pub nearby has the cleanest restroom……

Why?

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Why?

A question that we ask on a daily basis. Why? A question that children ask, usually to learn, absorb knowledge and at times to drive us crazy.  Why? A quest that can become repetitive in answering. Example: Can I have a brownie dad? No. Why? Because it’s not good for you. Why? because it has sugar in it. Why? because its made with sugar. Why? Because th…. oh hell you get the point!

The thing about this adverb is it sticks in your brain and you can’t let it go! You as an adult constantly ask why without saying “why”.  Thats how we operate! Education and years of experience have taught us how to formulate a question to receive the maximum answer. Yet as children we only know one way to obtain information, that is to ask “why”? But what is bothering me, the reason I am into this little diatribe is that I also think as adults we may be to smart for our own good.

As adults, life has us running on empty constantly, we run to work to meet the expectations of our superiors.  We run to school dropping off and retrieving our children. We run back to the park or gymnasium for our children’s sports leagues.  Then there is the store, the dry cleaner, the gas station and so on. But that’s OK we are smart intelligent human beings, we can multi-task , operating on many levels. We need our information quickly, we don’t have time to mess around. Just look at all the parents at the soccer game paying not attention to their little Beckhams’s! No they are entrenched into the information first, life leash that is the modern-day cell phone! Life is short and getting shorter all the time! Just ask any frazzled parent, they will tell you! One of the first comments out of most parents partaking in small talk is; I can’t believe its: insert month here already. or Holy cow little Johnny is getting huge! The last time I saw him he was just a little guy! Where does the time go? A sure sign life is traveling fast and passing us by.   So at the end of the day, after answering the “educated” why questions multiple times over, we as adults have no more patience in regards to our own children. Especially to the myriad of “why” questions rolling around in their little brains.

Think about it, how many times in the afternoon while trying to focus on making dinner, providing lunches for the next day, getting the laundry going and having a glass of wine for your own personal sanity have you become frustrated with your childs constant “why” questioning? Inevitably at some point you are going to lose composure and bark at them: because I told you so!  My personal favorite by the way.  And WWHHYYY are you barking at them? Because you have forgotten about the inner workings of a child’s mind. Your brain is still entrenched in a please the boss, I am dealing with only frustrating, idiotic adults mentality.  You have forgotten how to turn that off and bring your thought process down to your child level of understanding.  A level of understanding that requires the use of the word “why”  when asking a question.

We as parents (myself heavily included) need to remember that every time a child asks “why” it is not to get under our skin. (Although I am sure there are a few of you who will disagree with me on that one. Just remember that child is not the norm, that child is possessed by Satan.) It’s because that’s the only way children know how to ask the question. They want a really good answer too. Because I said so; is not a qualified answer. Yet time and again we treat these questions as frustrating and annoying.  We as adults are doing damage to our kids by squelching the ability to ask why? Asking why is one of the fundamentals of being a human being. If we continue to suppress the urge to ask why as a child, the child will never understand how to ask why in a well formulated, information gathering fashion as an adult. That same adult will certainly never understand how to process any answer given.  It is all in our hands people! Our children’s futures are in our hands and we as impatient, self-absorbed adults are doing our best to destroy it by not allowing our children to ask the simple question of “why”? We are also destroying their futures by not taking the time to get down upon their level and answer the “why” question with an age appropriate knowledge provoking answer! Something they are so desperately seeking!

Anyways, that is my irrelevant thought for the day. A rant based probably on my own guilt as a short-tempered worn out father of four. Now go out today and do something positive for your kids!  Why?

Because I said so…..

 

Running out of time

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In June of 2011 after successfully completing the length of a marathon while walking in support of cancer awareness at the Relay for Life event held in our town.  I decided that I was going to get back to exercising everyday! I felt I needed to lose some weight (ok my doctor told me too but it always sounds better if it was my idea) and getting back into shape just might help my job performance as well.  I was already participating in a half ass workout at our firehouse but I felt it was time to kick it up a notch and take full advantage of all our department had to offer! 

I decided that I would start by running everyday, If I was going to lose weight, that was the first logical step! At 205 pounds I was lugging around an extra 25 pounds according to my B.M.I. chart.  Now running is an art as any of you out there who run on a regular basis already know!  If you just plunk along you are not really working in an aerobic state and you are destined to achieve shin splints! If sprint right off  the bat like superman you are destined to become injured and receive shin splints.  But if you start out slowly, walking for five minutes then working into a nice smooth rhythm while allowing your body to sink into the natural upright running position. Well you are destined to get shin splints! I guess what I am trying to say here, or the moral of this story might be, inevitably when you are 44 and havent run in ten years you are going to get bloody shin splints!!!

So off to the famous unnamed footwear store I go.  All my problems will be solved by actually knocking the cob webs off my thrifty little purse,spending more than $29.99 at COSTCO for sale item shoes! Oh and spend I did! The sales associate was good! Telling me all about the dynamics of my feet and how the proper support will solve all my shin splint miseries, I will be running marathons in no time! She went on for 15 minutes about the benefits of the shoes I was purchasing, but in my mind I was already running the Boston Marathon, leading the Bay to Breakers! Wind in my hair, sweat pouring through my Nike sponsored running clothes! Women and children cheering at the mere spectacle of a man my age bolting past 20 somethings struggling on the sidewalks! Oh yes I was going to fly! 

I went home, placed Thunder and Lightning (yeah I named my shoes) on my feet and instantly felt the electricity flowing through them all the way into my calves! These shoes had super powers, I just knew it! I went from an average everyday Joe to “super runner” just by donning these illustrious over priced, glitzy, shimmering blue, sweat wicking, pieces of running superiority! I trembled thinking about taking that very first step! Will they bolt me to speeds unheard of, or will they be gentle and allow me to break them in slowly! The anticipation had me sweating nervously just thinking about what was about to happen.  I kept telling myself: the salesperson said these shoes were custom fitted just for me!  No one has a pair just like them, and I will reap the benefits from my understanding of running technology! Oh I so bought it, hook line and sinker!

I walked in them for 5 minutes to warm up, allowing the wonder shoes to break in a little! My oldest who runs cross-country came out and looked me up one side and down the other, letting out a “Humph” when he saw the “chosen ones” upon my feet! I asked him if he liked them? (like he really needed to answer, I know jealousy when I see it) and wondered if he would like to join me in my little excursion! He mumbled something about the shoes being Ok then finished with a chuckle and: you know they wont make you run any faster. What does he know? I asked him if he wanted to join me but he said he didn’t want too. I’m thinking he didn’t want to be in the shadow of Thunder and Lightnings greatness! In reality he didn’t want to leave me behind within the first mile!

We made it to the road and Thunder and Lightning were plenty warm and ready to go! I leaned into them a little we started to pick up speed.  The first mile is always the hardest! Everything hurts, you start complaining in your head, then before you know it you are arguing with yourself over whether or not you should just quit! You start saying things like “I’m getting to old for this shit” and “whose dumbass idea was this anyways”! You start telling yourself its ok to be a quitter, no one will know, heck when you get home just splash some water on yourself and everyone will praise you for your effort! Then just about the time it all is about to come apart, the endorphins are released into your system! Oh yeah, so good! No more pain, breathing is easier, you feel stoned, (not that I know what that is, just a guess) higher than a kite. Nothing is going to stop you now, oh no! You are running faster and stronger! Your knees are coming up higher and your strides are increasing.  You are a runner sir! A bonafide runner! Thats right these shoes were worth every penny! No longer will I bargain shop for running shoes, oh no! My feet are on cloud nine and my brain is floating freely as I take in each deep refreshing cold breath. The countryside is flying by, the views are breathtaking! I feel as though I am Forrest Gump, I will not stop until I hit an ocean, then I will turn around and keep running until I hit the next ocean!  Go Thunder and Lightning go!

We make the loop around my house and I am soaked in sweat.  I feel like a true athlete, a runner of the highest caliber.  My legs are throbbing, my knees are shaky, and my heart is beating so hard my eyeballs are wiggling! It’s the best feeling ever! I walk around to cool down taking part in all the proper stretches. I am sure I have just run 10 miles, I mean come on, who runs like I just did, no ordinary man I can tell you that! I pull my I-phone from my pocket to turn off Pandora and check my jogging app for distance and time.  As I am waiting for it to load I exuberantly hum a rendition of Eye of the Tiger. The screen loads and my time/distance is revealed.

2.5 miles. What! that can’t be right! I know I ran more than 2.5 miles! Stupid program, who can trust military satellite technology anyways! Not me that’s for sure! Disgusted with the obvious blatant lie my I-phone has just delivered to me. I turn to walk back to the house, dejected by my effort, disappointed in my expectations of the wonder twins Thunder and Lightning. Thats when it hits me. Oh it hits me hard, nearly taking my feet right out from under me.

You see, it doesnt matter what shoes you wear.  It doesn’t matter what clothes you are in, it doesn’t matter how many miles you have run.  The only thing that matters after you have given it your all in an effort to turn back the hands of time and not declare yourself a overwieght 44-year-old man is; What the Hell I am going to do with these damn shin splints!!  OOOOWWWWWWWW!!

I could barely walk for three days after that run.  Today I run 4-5 miles a day at work and 4 miles at home on my days off.  Thunder and Lightning are doing just fine. They are not the superheros I made them out to be. But in the end they have become my heroes. My feet are thankful for their existence and my shins don’t hurt as much anymore.

TV & The Dying Brain

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When I think about it now as an adult it makes perfect sense. I see the reasoning behind the decision and understand the consequences.  Refusing to adhere to the policies set forth would bring swift and irrefutable repercussions. My mind failed to grasp the concept and I argued to a mind numbing end, my point of right.  As In “I have a right” to enjoy this time you are so heinously keeping from me! I was mocked, shunned and put into place by becoming nothing more that a slave to the dial.

It will rot your mind;I heard time and again.  Your sitting to close, it will damage your eyes, was heard bellowing through my house.  Oh my it seems you received a C on your report card, you are banned, and not to be found within watching distance!  Unless father needs you to turn the dial again. Your grades have slipped and the box of entertainment must surely be the cause!

As I am sure you have figured out by now I am referring to the “all mighty” power held over the human race by television! Our parents fully understood the potential for harm such a dreaded form of entertainment could bring upon a population of young underdeveloped minds! We (my sister and I) were held to 30 minutes at night and a couple of hours on the weekends! Weekend time was divided between Saturday morning cartoons and Saturday evening family shows.  Yet my parents retained the right to watch endless hours of television. Sometimes into the wee hours of the morning! Oh it held a spell over me! I would stand for hours with my bedroom door cracked and one lone eyeball straining to watch my fathers shows until the late hours of the evening! It amazes me to this day that it mesmerized us with three channels! Held our attention, took us away from reality, became our excuse for missing chores and slacking on homework.  Eventually becoming a trinket, or shiny bobble dangled in front of us to be given or taken away at a moments notice!  We were hooked and our parents knew it!

Today, we can’t escape the power of television! It is everywhere in our lives.  Playing at the bus and train stations, in the airport, behind the bar at your favorite watering hole.  Blaring away in elevators, behind lobby desks, or in the check out line at Wal-Mart. You can also find it playing on our computers, displayed on cell phones, playing endlessly in every room of every house in America! It’s there like an old friend, comforting us when we are having a rough go, or helping us get through a sleepless night! It is there, it’s always there…. 

In my day at 1 am the picture turned to the American Flag waving with the Star Spangled Banner playing until 6 in the morning.  Now, programs are shown 24 hours a day 7 days a week.  You can’t escape it, you can’t hide from it, it has become an addiction.  Between reality T.V. (an oxymoron I might add), news, sports, game shows, dramas, comedies, infomercials, movie channels, women’s channels, the gay/lesbian channels, music channels, cooking shows, car shows, shows about midget, parents with 65 kids, (deeeeeep breath) and the lives of Prairie Dogs in the wild! It’s really amazing what Americans will watch! 

Which leads me to my point…

I think our parents had it right!  Shut the damn thing off and go outside! Turn on your brain by reading a book or your Kindle! Let your brain enjoy all the powers it has locked up inside without interference from Snookie or Drake and Josh! Seriously we are ruining our kids ability to process information by having it force-fed to them through the lazy eye of television!  

I tried an experiment at home to prove what I call the “Butterfly Chaser”effect.   The Butterfly Chaser is where your kid is asked to perform a task. As your child is performing that task something else catches their eye, subsequently diverting their attention, leaving the original task unfinished.  Some children are easily diverted, others are focused and stay on task with little effort. 

Now introduce the almighty television!  I am not kidding when I say the morning will be progressing smoothly, like a fine wine. No interference, everyone is gathering their personal effect, brushing their teeth, putting dishes in the sink, and then just for fun, I will through on the T.V.!  They stop dead in their tracks! mesmerized, stupefied, mummified, frozen! It is absolutely amazing! Call out their names; they wont answer! Grab them, shake them, look them in the eyes, nothing!  It could be Good Morning America or Sponge Bob, it doesn’t matter!  The brain is frozen like your computer screen due to an invading virus! The T.V. is the virus and you don’t have the proper software to handle the eventual meltdown of the system! 

There is only one cure for this outbreak of stupification! Turn it off!  Stand where you can see their little faces when the T.V. is shut down.  Focus on them, and very slowly depress the off button.  POW! Blinking eyes, turning heads, bodies starting to move again, they look as though they were waking from a long coma. Focusing on what is around them, locating familiar objects, grasping at the time space continuum.  Then, they just go right back to what they were originally doing. Like nothing ever happened. Oh you may get the occasional child who is a little more astute than the others.  His reaction usually begins with a loud; HHEEEEEYYYYYYY who turned it off!  But the second he makes eye contact with you, the head goes down and the morning continues…

So what do we do? It invades every single moment of our lives! How do we go back thirty years to re-engage our children in the land of reality? I am not sure, but we have tried a few methods. 

My wife and I have reduced our house to one family T.V. with satellite. The other is connected to Net-Flix only, this way we pick a movie for them, which is played at our onvienance and ultimately diverts them from the main T.V.  Our kids have mandatory reading time and if all their homework and chores are finished; If showers and rooms are prepared for the next day before their appointed bed times, they can watch some television.  Holding to appropriate bed times I think helps immensely.  It limits your childs exposure and allows them time to decompress everything their minds have processed during the day.  My wife and I also go to bed at the same time as our last child. This sets agood example by showing them we feel sleep is just as important for us as it is for them.  “Lead by example” a statement that says it all.. 

They still hover over the T.V. like vultures every chance they get.  Their little minds crave the damn thing like sugar or crack cocaine!  But in the long run I think they will appreciate all the effort we have put into keeping them away from the entertainment box of hysteria, false lives and lies. 

 

 

Now that I have all that off my chest, I am off to watch another episode of “Family Guy”! Hey don’t judge me, it’s not my bed time!! 

The Missing Link…

theycallmebetty3 Comments

Laying on my back, staring up at the dogfight eternally raging in the sky’s above my bed. I am pondering a feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach. It’s not a sickness or pain, but rather that of loneliness associated with feeling out-of-place. I turn to my phonograph and lay down some heavy vinyl to sooth myself to sleep. RUSH usually does the trick. Placing my hands behind my head and crossing my legs, my body slowly sinks into the preformed shape that is my mattress. “Fly by night” is playing in the background and I am lip syncing the song.

Fly by night, away from here
Change my life again
Fly by night, goodbye my dear
My ship isn’t coming and I just can’t pretend

You see my parents told me very young that I was adopted at birth. A lot for a young boy to understand, but when the question comes up time and again as to why I don’t look like anybody in my family what is a parent to do? It’s not that I am miserable where I live, it’s not that I dislike my adopted parents, because I don’t. It’s not even that I want to be anywhere else. But what bothers me most nights as I lay in a rhythmic trance while music pounds the center of my soul. Is, I know. I know there are more of us out there! Dont ask me how I know, but I know! I wonder if I have brothers or maybe sisters out there somewhere. I wonder what my biological mother and father look like. I wonder if they gave me up because they hated me? Or if I was just too much to handle, I have seen friends of my parents with crying infants and it always left me wondering why someone would want to put themselves through that kind of torture. I lay awake at night wondering if any of them are looking up towards the sky thinking the same thing? Are they lonely too? Do they feel the emptiness inside that I feel? Like a part of you is missing? I live in a house with three other people and I am lonely. And I feel empty.

When you are a 10-year-old kid you don’t know how to identify with emotions that are mentally challenging. You know something isn’t right but you don’t know how to verbally express what you are feeling. So you listen to really great rock and roll, stare up at the model planes hanging from your ceiling, pretending they are dog fighting and pray you can fall asleep before the record player needle hits the label.

Present Day…

I am laying in bed staring at another episode of Law and Order. My tablet and keyboard in my lap. I no longer have model planes to stare at and unless I am looking to start a fight over which band is better “Led Zeppelin or RUSH” to fall asleep too I had better not wake my wife with any loud music! I lean back and place my hands behind my head and smile. I don’t have to worry about whether or not I have any brothers or sisters out there somewhere in the world. I know! Just like I knew then I know now! Because now, I have proof!

Through an emotional, exhausting search I located my brothers in 2006! I reached out to them and they answered my call. They too had a feeling there was someone out there and they had been passively looking for me as well! Man were those boys surprised when they received the call! I met my grandmother not long after! I have been welcomed with open arms into their lives! I am always excited when they call, and I look forward to the times we are able to speak. I have brothers, real flesh and blood brothers! They look like me, I act like them, we feel as though we have known each other our whole lives! It’s what I have always wanted. except for one thing….

Theres one more…

My brother calls to tell me he has information that our mother gave one more child up for adoption. The child was a girl, 18 months older than me. (woo hoo! I am still the youngest!) I am floored! Because just as I knew when I was young there were others, I had a feeling after meeting “the boys”, we weren’t done yet. I love it when I am right! Well everyone, I met her today! We had brunch at one of my favorite little “hole in the wall” restaurants. We met at 10:30 and departed at 2:15. I thought we needed to go before they started charging us rent. She is sweet and funny, well-traveled, opinionated, and has little ways about her that make her one of us! She even laughs like Betty himself! I cant wait to see her again! 15 minutes into the conversation and I felt like I had known her for our entire lives.

Summation

I don’t feel like something is missing anymore, I don’t feel alone in the world, I don’t feel the need to find someone or something. My sadness is gone. I am grateful for all my parents sacrificed to ensure I would have a good home growing up. I am grateful we have all been found. It would be easy to discount my feelings and recount me a fool. Nay say if you will, poo poo if you must, rain on my parade if you feel the need. But in the end a little 10-year-old boy who once felt all alone, in a home surrounded by family, is now all grown up and for the first time in his life he can honestly say;

I no longer feel empty….

Its the age of…..

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I am feeling a little low and I don’t know the reason? I have been pondering many things lately during my down time. Work, money, the kids and our life here on the ranch. But I keep coming back to one thing that is unsettling to me and I am not sure why? I have never had a problem before, but it just seems to be popping up constantly in my thoughts. I find myself wondering if anyone else has this same problem? Does it affect them in ridiculously stupid ways? I need to quit wasting time and energy on this particular problem because there is really nothing I can do about it. But yet time is a wasting…

Its my age…. I know stupid huh?

Oh I talk a good game when people give me a hard time about how old I am, I laugh it off and joke around because that’s what we do to protect ourselves. And really I do enjoy joking about it, because in the grand scheme of things I am not that old. (45) So what I don’t understand is why it’s bothering me so much lately. I am slowly, finally getting to where I want to be in life. My kids are old enough to be expressive, wonderful little humans that have interesting conversations and partake in a myriad of activities that showcase their ever evolving skills. My career is not where I had hoped it would be, but there is nothing I can do about it, the economy squelched all my hopes and dreams for advancement before I hit retirement age. (I hope I am wrong but that’s the way it looks right now) I could test out and go to another city, but that’s not who I am, I love my city, I love the people I work for (citizens of my town), I am invested in the community and this job really does define me as a person. I have put 17 years into this profession, at this location and leaving (morally speaking) really isn’t an option. I live in a great location with plenty of space for my children to play and grow. The grandparents built a house next door so the kids can see them anytime. My overhead is fairly low, I mean we have gigantic bills just like the next guy, but I have been lucky enough to keep a handle on the spending during these trying financial times. I ‘m in pretty good shape too. I run three to four times a week depending on my schedule and I am in the gym every morning at work! So my health and or physical fitness is not a concern for me what so ever. I also have plenty of down time where I head off and work horses most days off. It really helps take my mind off all the pressures of our busy schedule and life in general. Nothing makes you feel more alive than riding a true work horse. Plus the time spent taking care of them is very emotionally stabilizing.

So why? Why when I look at all these factors do I not focus more on the good? Why do I keep focusing on my age? Anyone? Anyone?

It starts like this, I am lying in bed blocking out the day with a little mind numbing TV. I start thinking about crazy things associated with my age. Such as, I have struggled my whole life to grow a mustache. I always thought a mustache would look pretty cool. Well now that I am 45 I can finally grow a mustache! Does it matter? No! Because apparently the hair used to grow the mustache came from my thinning hairline! And speaking about hair, it seems the ears are a hair follicles paradise! When I go bald maybe I will let the hair from my left ear grow long and use it in the comb over! (We all know someone like that, yuck!) Remember when it was “cool” to have a hairy chest? (70’s)Well I remained hairless during that era, but now I have a full-blown carpet covering the man canvas! To little to late! What the Hell! My feet hurt, my arms hurt my back hurts and my skin is starting to look like a lizard! I use moisturizer daily! God, someone take away my freaking man card, please!!

Then I start pondering the inevitable timeline. My oldest will be headed to college in two years, that leads me into thinking about how old I will be when the next in line goes to college, which inevitably leads me to thinking about how old I will be when the last one goes to college. Then I go “holy shit” I am going to be one foot in the grave! That landslides into an overwhelming panic that I am nowhere near accomplishing any of the things I have wanted to do with my life! Before I can break into a full-blown panic attack, I usually get up and go make myself some camomile tea. That’s when I end up screaming ” son of bitch, I am old, its 9 pm I’m already in bed and now I am drinking camomile tea”!!

After a glass of Metamucil, some Centrum Silver and 2 baby aspirin for my heart health. I usually calm down around the time I slide into my “no slip” upright tub and take a warm bath. Seriously, one minute you are thirty and you have the world by the short hairs! The next you are a panicked blubbering mess worrying about the future of four kids, your wife and whether or not the batteries on your “life alert” will still be charged when you actually need it. What? What did you just say? Here let me put my hearing aids back in, and my glasses back on, I don’t want to miss your comments….

So there it is. Its upsetting and I don’t know why. I can’t let it go. Am I crazy? Am I going crazy? Should I just shut up and realize this is all normal? Anyways thanks for understanding, I am going to put my Snuggie on and call it a day.

Oh and just in case you were wondering, I know exactly how I want to leave this earth.

I have always envisioned myself going out like the late, great, George Burns. 100 years 49 days old, a glass of excellent scotch in one hand and cigar in the other. Last words to cross my lips will be a quote remembered for generations to come.

One of my favorite George Burns quotes of which there are many;

First you forget names, then you forget faces. Next you forget to pull your zipper up and finally, you forget to pull it down.

Say goodnight Gracie…..

Road Rage Attitude

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Cruising down the freeway at 70+ I see you coming off in the distance.  You are a blip, a faint blob, an anomaly made of carbon fiber, plastic and steel.  You move between cars with ease, accelerating, decelerating. Jig to the left cut to the right. Every lane is the fast lane for you, there are no obstacles to overcome while driving a $140,000.00 piece of German engineering. 

I envision you, enveloped in fine leather upholstery, cooled to meet the demands of this warm spring day.  You move closer and as you cross from the number one lane to the number three, I take mental notice of the special “Aero” package that adorns the lower half of your car. A $25,000.00 dollar extra with suspension upgrades and race inspired braking.  The dream of every red-blooded, automobile loving, testosterone filled male! 

I feel as though you are a well-rounded man, one of travel and education.  Most likely the product of a family with means.  Nothing was too good for you growing up and the expectations associated with it must have held a heavy burden.  But you survived and prospered.  Pledged to the best fraternity and graduated with honors.  Voted most likely to succeed adored by all who have known you.   

Your closing fast, having cut off two lessor commuter cars along the way.  Why are you driving like a jerk? That car should be effortlessly moving between vehicles without any need for “cutting” someone off.  Maybe they were just beneath your piece of freeway art, they deserved to see nothing more than a flash of your rear bumper in passing.  Judging by the move you just placed on that semi-truck to my rear right, patience must be wearing thin? Or could it be the horses under the hood, all 640 of them screaming to be let out of the stable.  They don’t let just anyone drive this type of car you know! Only someone with skill, stamina and good looks!  It won the 24 hours at Daytona and with that type of pedigree this is nothing more than a short sprint! She is hardly even breathing hard moving from side to side annihilating anyone or anything in its path. 

Oh my it seems you have picked my lane and are closing rapidly on this old 4×4 truck.  You are still driving angry which isn’t cool in my book, I hate guys who drive like idiots!  I have scraped to many of you off the freeway in my career.  You are closer and I can see the silver paint glistens, like fresh rain laid across its landscape. Although as I understand it carbon fiber has a tendency to look that way.  You are close enough now for my envy to take full hold of my emotions.  You are driving the kind of vehicle I have always envisioned myself using for transportation.  Fast, artfully designed, the finest materials, handling of an F-1 racer, just sinful. 

We are coming up on a group of cars and I am trying to get into your head. I am traveling at 70, you are closing the gap with a fervor reminiscent of the fast and furious!  You must be well into 100+! I find myself depressing the fuel pedal as if I have a chance to run with the likes of you.  Further I push, the faster we go, you want the easy pass but my exuberance for parody wont let you have it. You need to slow down and there is no way I am going to let you keep driving that gorgeous metallic sculpture like a tool!  You are on my bumper now, I have left you no options, we are trapped in traffic. Jigging to the inside you’re taking a look at the right lane only to find it blocked, a slip to the outside, you take the lane and punch it, I press harder closing the gap, leaving you alongside so I may admire and yes even drool a little over you four-wheeled masterpiece. We are running window to window when I look over, hoping all my premonitions will be true.  Hoping to get a glimpse of what I wish I was, refined, educated, well-preserved, dressed as a man of my stature should.  And there you are, we make eye contact and, and, and….

You are a teenager! A freaking teenager! A freaking teenager driving a $165,000.00 dollar dream machine! Not only driving it, but driving it like an a-hole!  Who the heck do you think you are?  Son of a biscuit eater!! This is horse shit!  As the blood drains from my face you turn your 115 pound frame my direction and look up from under your sideways, bandana wrapped, flat brimmed Raiders hat and throw me the bird! Suspicions confirmed! Road rage driver! But are you bloody serious!! Throwing me the bird? Minutes ago you were revered as a pillar to social perfection and now I am faced with this baggy pants, pimple popping moron who either has a daddy Warbucks or is a kingpin in the local drug trafficking operation.

Well son, I don’t know if you have taken a good, long hard look at Ole red here but she is big, with big tires, a big engine and one thing is for certain she has hit before and she will hit again!  I hope you have you big girl panties on! I peddle her up and keep the little punk blocked in, he lets out and falls behind to move back up the right side hoping for a clear shot to cut in front of me.  I give him no such chance. Using an R.V. to block his advancement he is trapped like a cabbie in New York rush hour traffic.  I have ole red almost floored but every time junior picks up speed so do I.  When he lets off the gas, I coast her down just enough to keep him trapped.  No longer will he abuse the roadways and use our vehicles for his own personal day at Daytona! You earn that right with age buddy! This back and forth goes on for minutes, he is highly agitated judging from the flying fingers and hands each time he passes behind me moving onto the opposite sides.  Finally after 5-7 miles of messing with Mario jr by creating the equivelent of an automobile “blood clot”.  The boy gets the best of me, an opening, a small one, but an opening just the same; he takes it, runs in front of me and starts to take off!  Then without explanation he slows down, not just a little bit, but slows all the way down meeting the flow of traffic. Then stays that way.  Why? Is there a cop ahead? Was he angry with me for slowing his butt down ?  Did he feel the need for some form of revenge? Or maybe, just maybe, he had taken “the hint” from a disgruntled sorry old man who can only dream of owning a car of that caliber? “The hint”? To slow down, and calm down before you kill someone!

Or maybe just maybe he realized that; sometimes it’s not about the car or the speeds its capable of reaching.  Sometimes its about realizing you are out of control. Recognizing that you will get there when you get there and just because you have 640hp doesnt mean you need to use all of it just to go to 7-11 down the street! Sometimes its about maturing and keeping your road rage in check.  Sometimes those things can only be shown to you by a crazy old man in a big red 4×4 with three times the driving experience. 

And…..

Sometimes crazy old men should just quit dreaming about little silver sports cars and be happy with their beat up old 148,000 mile red 4×4.  (heavy sigh)

Sometimes its fun to be “that guy”…….

Shots fired

theycallmebetty2 Comments

There appears to be something amiss in my household. Something just isn’t adding up by my calculations. You see with all the time spent going over this particular subject it makes no sense to me why we are having a problem! Now most young men of age naturally figure this out, it is genetic after all. But yet here we are, confused, scratching our heads and wondering, why? Why has this happened to me God? Why? Is it something I said? Is it something I may have done? Please, please let me know! I mean you did bless me with three sons, not three daughters! (Nobody get your hackles up, this is obnoxious satire)

I am not sure the cause, but it appears none of my boys have very good aim.

I know! Strange huh? You would think just because they are boys “good aim” would come naturally to a young lad. Seriously, having good aim must be in our genetic makeup as “men” don’t you think? The hunter, the provider, the sole servant to the family. How hard can it be? Just point and shoot! How much skill can that possibly take? Point and shoot! Point and shoot! For the love of god, just point the damn thing and shoot!!! Yet time after time all three of them miss! No skills what so ever! Its frustrating! I was shooting at little targets when I was three. Sure I probably missed a time or two, but every single time! Come on! Point and shoot! I even tried getting them to breathe while doing it. You know, take the proper stance, legs spread apart, shoulders square, point, breath in , slowly exhale then shoot! It’s that simple, yet none of my boys seem to be able to grasp the concept!

Oh my lord its like they have Parkinson’s, body shaking, and jerking around uncontrollably. Nervous stance, weak grip, and absolutely zero accuracy! They shoot everywhere but the intended target. Experts refer to “painting” the target. Zeroing in on your intended point of contact then hitting it with everything you have using controlled precision! I can tell you one thing for certain, they know how to “paint”alright. “Paint” everything but the intended target! Oh yeah these boys couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn standing three feet away! Hell, I would even spot them the other two feet!

It finally came to a head this morning. Man it was ugly. One at a time they lined up at the door, and one at a time they sprayed patterns on everything except where they were aiming! My wife finally had enough of this fiasco and opened fire! (pun fully intended) She really let them have it with both barrels. Those boys never knew what hit them. You see the boys lack of aiming ability had finally become their undoing. The wife had identified all three as the scurgiest of hombres in our house. The lowest of low lives, the bottom of a snails belly! No more patience, no more cleaning up after them, no more second chances. From here on out there was a new sheriff in charge! It was mom, and no matter how much “practicing” I swore to on their behalfs, the end had come for the Blackcloud Ranch sprinkler boys!

Oh yeah, my boys are toilet violators. The worst kind too, they stroll in and out in seconds! Sometimes the toilet seat is left up. Sometimes the toilet seat is left down. Either way the boys are known for leaving behind the kind of unsanitary conditions that would make a truck driver blush! Oh yeah it’s that bad! It happened this morning, it went down something like this….

Three boys walked into the bathroom and without hesitation, without remorse, without so much as an ounce of decency they covered the walls, the seat, the lid, heck even the floor! Like a shaky teenager holding his first Colt 45, they were trembling and swinging it around uncontrollably! (of course that might be some of the aiming problem) Or a firefighter trying to contain an out of control firehose! It was everywhere! Amazingly the Three stooges would have gotten away with it too if weren’t for mom walking in minutes later to relieve herself upon the sturdy porcelain throne. Carefully lowering her britches she was met with the horrific indecency of a wet barrier forming between her skin and the seat below. Jumping up and slipping in the yellow ring that laid at her feet she was last heard in a shrill voice swearing to the deaths of who ever left this unsanitary trap for her to stumble upon. She vowed from that moment on, no person of female persuasion, in our house or visiting our house should suffer such wrong doings ever again! The boys were promptly tracked down and when cornered they begged for mercy..

Mercy was not found this day my friends! Oh quite the contrary, the boys have been banished to our bathroom downstairs for an undetermined amount of time. Cleaning the toilets with bleach they have accepted their fate, understanding the consequences of irresponsible toilet tinkling. They also know, should they shower the downstairs bathroom with the same zeal as the upstairs bathroom the only place of bodily relief available for the three of them will be a bush or tree on the backside of the property. Just like in the old west. When you gotta go, you gotta go but for them it will be outside rain or shine…

Moral of the story; Simple

If you sprinkle when you tinkle please be neat wipe the seat……..