Category: life


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Sometimes I have to wonder.  Wonder why I bother to read certain people, wonder why I care, wonder why I feel I need to respond, wonder how can she believe herself, wonder how she sees herself, wonder.

My life has been filled with wonder and wondering.  I always strove to find the answers to all of my “what if” questions.  I didn’t take the road less traveled, I took it to the end, backed-up and went the other way to see where it would end.  I would strive to find the best conclusion.  I would strive to know what is on the other side.

I have seen myself riding the wave of success, working in a law firm, running a business for a senator.  I have seen myself digging in the dirt, scrounging and scraping to survive.  I have seen my wife – for the first time, in her wedding dress, in her despair, in her joy, through her struggles, through her waves.  I have seen my boys.  I saw both of them when they were born, I felt both of them kick in the womb.  I saw their first steps, heard their first words, dried their tears, gave and received the high-fives, the hugs.  I played ball with them, rode bikes with them, hiked with them, ran with them, played with them, built with them, destroyed with them, fixed with them.

All of this, and I am still in my 20’s.

Still in my 20’s.  That will be the last time I can say this.  In three hours I will be 30.  I’m not afraid or resentful.  I am actually looking forward to it because it is hard to be taken seriously as a person, a thinker, an idealist, a father, a professional, a tradesman, a husband when you are classified as a “twenty-something.”  I am ready to be taken seriously.

At this point of my life, I don’t have much that I would like to try, roads I want to travel, but I welcome it all, good bad or indifferent, with open arms and an open mind.

I have trouble remaining complacent anymore.  If you go back to the beginning of this horrid blog you may glimpse at the beginning, the awakening, of this condition I am afflicted with.  You might see the original symptoms, the acrid catalyst.

I have read numerous comments on Facebook and twitter regarding this journalistic undertaking, and so far they have all been positive, but I expect nothing different from my friends, family, acquaintances, and others who follow me for other like interests.  It is the other comments, the ones on other blogs, the ones in person from people who only recognize me from photos of my family, or where told who I was by other readers – those who don’t know me but still enjoy my views and musings.  Don’t mistake my meaning, not all were in agreement with me, but they all enjoyed reading it.  Some were surprised by my youth,  some by my profession, some by my calmness, none by my extroverted gregariousness.

I would like to take this quiet moment of self-reflection to thank all of you for taking the time to read my palaverous, meandering, writings and thoughts.  I would also like to thank my political detractors  for keeping my opinions grounded.  Finally, I would like to thank the dirty hippie idiot.  Without her as an impetus, this whole web-log branch of my life would have gone unexplored, and I would not have learned that my thoughts I once thought to be on the fringe of societal norms, are actually all common and shared in my community, (and on a side note, I’ve learned not to believe what I hear or read in the news.)

Oh well, enough with the back patting and on to current events.

As always, I will work in chronological order on a blog without logic – the dirty hippie idiot.

Her blog starts as a tease, hinting that she will shut-up for a while, but alas, (spoiler alert) she blogs again less than a week later, but more on that later.  In this reasonless rant she condones and condemns the same person in one intellectually devoid paragraph.

Her main issue is that she asked the road department supervisor, whom she constantly, consistently, and continuously; derides, disrespects, ridicules, scoffs, scorns, and sneers at, whom she hurls accusations, insults, innuendo, and insinuation at.  She asks him to do a job directly related to his position on the road department.  She states he does so professionally, quickly, and quietly.  That is her problem.  She goes on about how she grills him about personal, professional, and political matters in his capacity as a committee member, and not as a road department member.

Let me repeat that because you may have missed it;

This woman, who hurls accusations, threats of lawsuits, investigations, and prison at a committee member is complaining when he refuses to engage her in political discussion and answer her personally slanted questions off the record outside of a public meeting while on the clock in a different, yet still public, position.  If she wasn’t trying to play him as an idiot and an asshole, then she is an idiot and an asshole.

She goes on about how she will no longer be writing her trash because she is going to publish her drivel and have it turned into a television show.  Now, I enjoy watching TV (right now I’m watching a storage wars show,) but she might actually make that happen!  She makes reference to working with the director of Malcolm in the Middle, and I have to assume she does not mean Holland because he is financially occupied for the next few years, and certainly not the number two director Mr. Melman because she would not refer to an ancient work when he has been so prolific on MTV for the last few years, but instead perhaps speaking of Mr. D’Ovidio, a man who followed first director Holland for a short while after MitM ended and is now looking on taking a chance on making a name for himself, and he may not be that picky (he worked on Critters 2 and Black Sheep, [although he did act in the awesome sauce that was The Wizard in the 80’s.])  The only problem she has is a legal one.  Her writings aren’t enough to garner interest, she would need the interaction of others and I stated in one of my first comments that everything I said on her blog was a part of my character that I created, that gives me rights to it, and anything I write on here I obviously own, so – go for it hippie, I would love to burn your house after I own it and watch from Dave’s.  Seriously, if it gets you to move away, I will happily introduce you to some producers from NBC I’ve met over the years.  Good luck!

Next!

My brief glimpse of hippiless glory is destroyed by more of her crap seeping through the cracks of the internet.  It is short and pointless, but I can’t help but laugh with glee over the lunacy on display.  She actually believes that India is building a border fence (similar to the proposed US/Mexico fence) with its neighbor Bangladesh because… wait for it… wait for it… because….  because…. India is trying to stop the refugees from coming into India because Bangladesh is  sinking into the sea!  That’s right, you heard it THERE first, Bangladesh is not only going to disappear, but those heartless Indians know about this years in advance and are building a fence to force all the Bangladesh to drown!  They aren’t building it to stop the influx of criminals, drugs, migrant illegal workers (the same problems we have with Mexico) ect, NO!  They are building this fence to stop the Bangladeshi from surviving the Noahian flood.

It’s time to stop writing this and get back to work on my not-so-short story.

Thank you for reading and I’m sorry about the lack of pictures this time, but I simply don’t feel like posting any.

 

 

 

 

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You are driving in your car, music is playing but not blasting. The sun is shining and so is the red light ahead of you.  You need to turn left- get in the lane and put on your turn signal.

Is any of this familiar to you?

The car ahead of you in queue is waiting too.  His turn signal flashes in a different pace, soon you notice when yours is on, his is off and vice versa.  Then suddenly, without warning- for one glorious second you are both in sync.  Synchronized. Together.  Then just as quickly, it ends.

We, as people, are a lot like turn signals- rarely are two people ever in sync, and when they are it is only for a short period of time until it all falls apart.  Also, we are almost never fully or properly utilized to our full potential, and never taken into use when we don’t think anyone is watching, or can see.

We can give the world a clear signal of our direction, but seldom do, and more often than not signal far too late to allow those around us to help us in our chosen path, or find ways around us- to help them or keep from smashing into us and leave screaming profanities through the tiny windows we leave open to the outside world that surrounds us.

I’m exhausted.

My wife and I had another moment of synchronicity.  We both agreed that the hoe-made tattoo on her left arm had to go.  We went to the local shop where we get all of our body adornments.  She knew what she wanted before we left the house, I on the other hand, was more cautious.  Despite our thoughts going in different directions, we still arrived at the same destination and our signals synchronized again.

The art is beautiful.  The natural asymmetrical symmetry is there as well as a well-defined axis from inner wrist to outer elbow- the shading bringing depth to the flat surface of her soft arm.

Nothing in this world could make my wife more beautiful to me, but her new tattoo certainly doesn’t hurt.

See, in the private lives my spouse and I share together; it doesn’t matter if we forget to use our turn signals or put them on too late, because no matter what happens on the road of life, we both know we are headed in the same direction.

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