Stars Like Grains of Sand in my Pocket

2026-06-26T18:04:26.575-04:00

I think that I have begun to lose hope .

I am always in the wrong and unreasonable side of whatever commentary I find myself on. The things that would ease my anxiousness fall just beyond my reach and I cannot bear the frustration of my life constantly lying beyond my reach. If I continue to dwell upon the topic I am afraid that I would reach the conclusion that there lies nothing to reach for, and I would face the question of "Why?"

There is nothing that is going to pull me through. Each day is a repeat of the previous one, and that is if I am lucky. My condition is that of a person who finds themselves repeating a version of the day prior, and if I were to somehow alter the movement of time so that it is tolerable... just attempting to describe what I feel escapes me. I am frustrated and I want to stop the endless meandering that I am mistaking for action, for life.

The Walkmen album, titled, "Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone" really has a significant meaning attached to how I understand it. Not that anyone who has been a part of this adventure ever "pretended to like me " were doing just that, pretending, but the expression in the music was, IS, something that I identify with, to such a point that the connection with the music and lyrics has been a constant for me to return, again and again.

I miss the things that I have taken for granted.

In The New Year

2025-12-19T16:53:00.000-05:00

I am going to transform... physically and mentally. There are goals to strive for and more to set. There are no impediments to my pursuits and I have convinced myself of this state of affairs. So it is with enthusiasm I am engaging the new year.

The details are what they are. It is enough that I am a part of the millions of people who use this time of year to announce their makeover and recommitt to many of the same things that they've told themselves that they would no longer be a part of their character only, ultimately, to fail. But habits are hard to break especially without the drive to push yourself. I understand, I get it. The untrained brain does not respond to the kind of changes in its routine easily at first, and even mentioning such a thing requires that a cat ignores the previous efforts that a brother made previously. My life is asking for a fresh start and that is what I am giving it!!

My life is going to be that of routine. I am hopeful that by doing what needs to be done, nothing more and nothing less, will carry to contentment! I will admit to missing Omaha and being able to comfortably watch the Hallmark Channel, but sacrifices have to be made!!

IN A LIMINAL SPACE

2025-02-13T19:16:00.002-05:00

today feels like a Thursday evening in Omaha working at Pinnacle Fitness downtown... off the evening before the "official" start of the weekend but the start of my weekend work schedule...

Playing PS2 NCAA 2006 endlessly and my mind floating off into the ether... going hither and yon, envisioning environments heretofor unconsidered except for that precise moment, disposable thoughts who's meaning lasts only for the brief instant that it flashed in my head...

Maybe this is what passes for " psychadelia" in my universe because these moments are not a result of my brain trauma... I have had the vision ever since I could have remembered them ... I have often thought that this is how it feels to have your mood altered by a drug except I am getting faded on Crunch Berries and Coke (don't ask). Because I have had this "state of being" occur randomly many times in my life, from when I was a young boy through the present moment, I have never thought to make note of the feeling until now...

General update

2025-02-10T19:18:00.000-05:00

IYKYK

‘Nuff said.

I get a lot of spam calls and of course they use the 402 area code. It is like standing on rose thorns, deep enough to be uncomfortable but not critical to the functioning of the body or the affected area to be overly concerned with.

The reason I dreaded moving from Omaha is that it meant that I was metaphorically and literally a backwards step. That it was imposed upon me by my health and well-being only makes it more complicated. The idea of me being unable to trust myself outside of my apartment ( which includes Planet Fitness, Food Lion, and the drug store) is as foreboding of a future as one can have. After all, Omaha was one of the few well planned experiences in my life.

There are several entries that are started but not completed. I find it painful to go through my accounting of my day to day because there is nothing going on. I don't have the desire to find out what is in Rocky Mount, not because there is nothing to see (but, admittedly, there is a risk-reward component to exploring as well, and I don't think I should have to feel compelled to expand upon why exploring is potentially too much risk for any possible reward), but I have not felt like I should “press” myself into any connection-making.

So, unlike my fall-off from journaling in Omaha, I feel covered by a weighted blanket of sadness. This is a feeling that you (at least I do) see in the eyes of people in town and I think that I am falling prey to the gravity of THEIR own festering misery. It is not that you get the sense that Rocky Mount is that kind of place, but I am just not getting the kind of vibrational frequency that I did when I was in Omaha. In short, I will be journaling more. Not that “now I am ready to get all up into my feelings “, but that journaling Is going to help me navigate my desp--, er, my day-to-day.

Getting ready to explore this process of my maturing is challenging. For instance, I have subscribed (and unsubscribed) to several local groups for older men and women to start some form of relationship on Facebook. I could not help but feel choked by the desperate loneliness and summarily need, not desire, for someone to be in their lives. I remembered in Omaha subscribing and meeting women, in fact, I met my Omaha partner that way. But the Facebook dating groups smells like ‘old people’ and yes, I am ‘old’ in age but I still have a limber spiritual sense of being and I still have a youthful disdain for butterscotch!

FREE RANGE CONSCIOUSNESS

2021-12-17T12:43:00.003-05:00

MAN... PACKING A SIGNAL FLARE WOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD IDEA

I am more than east of where I should be... and that is not being modest about where it is I am, but I am further off than I have been in quite some time. In fact, it reminds me of the early days of my injury, when I was unaware of what was happening to me and the long degradation of my faculties to the moment I knew what was going on with me whilst I lived in mid-Michigan. Right now, I am trying to decide if this is actually 'a thing' or is this 'A THING'. For instance...

No, I do not do Facebook much at all. That is not intentional, but it is something of my character. My modest daily comings-and-goings do not warrant announcing to everyone who is being forced to listen. Additionally, the people who really know of me, understand that not only is not hearing from me via social media is normal and therefore intentional. What makes it normal is my desire to simply "be" and that makes it intentional. I do not need to tell everyone about my comings and goings, and the only person that I would feel comfortable telling would be a quality therapist! This is not to say that I do not care about anyone else and how my life would affect their's, but that is not nor has been my reality. I am forced to be more social than my character once saw fit, which is of course, ironic. I never saw myself speaking to so many people and dealing with so many identities as someone with a TBI, but there you go. The people here in Omaha are nice and they really affect a thoughtful pose when I have encountered a native. That has gone a long way to affecting my rationale for remaining here, even as far as to have planned for my eventual internment (which is something that was done OVER A YEAR AGO... MAYBE TWO and has NO BEARING on today's feelings) and memorial services.

Adulting has been very difficult for me recently. I am struggling with the weight of the mundane, along with fatigue from physical exertion (which also includes mental exertion, as even a malfunctioning brain demands at least 1/5 of the body's energy demands) leaving me worn out. That is what journaling was supposed to be for me, a place where I get to "off-load" some of the thoughts that were taking up space in my head, and though I know I have said this before, hopefully, I mean it this time... I HAVE TO get this nonsense in order. Back in the day, I had a Nine Inch Nails tee-shirt (might still have it buried somewhere) with the print saying, over and again, "Can't Stop This Scratching Inside My Head". No surprise that I am thinking of it, and even as I wonder if that is a misquote, it remains that I cannot stop the scratching that is going on inside of mine.

Between missing appointments (medical appointments are of the highest priority) and having problems with my daily tasks, my concern is that I am at "the end of the beginning". After all, I have been essentially on my own with this condition for nearly 20 years, and eventually, the time would come where being able to negotiate the world-at-large (much less the world where I live) would start to overwhelm me.

So that is why the Churchillian quote was used for this section. The true start of my dealing with TBI has begun. Nothing was over when I was with Mookie Dee, as the previous pages of my journal attest. I have made a big leap and gone from where I was, a "bumbling, stumbling, rumbling..." human being who could go all the way to nowhere, to someone who has gone (and yeah, still strives to go further) to where their dreams took them. If there were any regrets, I guess I that there would have been tighter Quality Control on what passed for my dreams... or at least on the blueprint that I followed to achieve them!

NOW THAT I PLAN TO SET ROOTS IN OMAHA...

2021-10-22T18:45:00.001-04:00

For the majority of the past decade I have been enjoying my existence. This is not to say that I did not have a good life prior to moving to Omaha, but as the number of posts since I have been here have dwindled to rumours, I really have been enjoying an increase in the quality of my life. Because of that increase in life quality, the thinking that created many of my entries has been altered. I no longer “think” the way that I did in years gone by, and that has made a great difference in how I perceive myself and the world at large. I have personally held that it is hard to find yourself when you are stuck in self-pity, which is part of the reason that I began blogging. To have those corrosive thoughts inside of me would have really done me in, and by journaling out what was inside, those thoughts did not eat away at my being, keeping me from falling into self-pity or worse.

The troubles that I did have were far from exercable. Nothing that I have experienced here (minus the hospital trips from being struck by cars!) has caused me to stay up late at night, nor have I had any moments of dread from something that awaited me to start my day. Most days, in fact, have been in the 85% - 95% percentile, even with the snow, the rain, almost any inconvenience that I have encountered. Because of that, I have had no motivation to dredge up (which is what I would have been doing… exchanging “drama” for content) what was going sideways in my life. I could have mentioned the relationship that I terminated and the ebb and flow of it, but instead, I CHOSE to handle things appropriately and make the decision according to what I believed in. No debate and no fear of whether it was fair or not, and I have long since felt that I “paid back” what I had taken from people in relationships. So there was no drama there, and further discussion would be to try and sharpen my storytelling chops.

GET IT STRAIGHT

Which brings me to the secondary and most important reason for my journal. To keep me on message and focused. I do not have drama and there is none that I would like to share. While social media is a useful tool, it has been relegated to an afterthought, checked infrequently to keep track of the people I care about and who I want to remain in touch with. There is nothing that I really want to say, no one whose attention that I want to get, and no information that I have to share with anyone. This blog is about as far as I will go with any personal news/or information, and if there is any type of “announcing” done on a social media network, it will likely be for official self-promoting, not the “oh, look everyone… this wonderful thing is going on in my life” kind of breaking news. Not to be a curmudgeon or anything, but I have never been a self-promoter. I do understand and am aware of the purpose to self-promotion, but I will still be abstaining from the fatuous, “look at me” stuff. That just is not my style. Besides, that is not going to help me with writing up a proposal to the city of Papillion for a boxing program, which is foremost on my mind. I may have mentioned it, but if not, I do have interest from the Mayor and a couple of the councilmen here in town. So I feel that if I am serious about wanting to live and take charge of my life, then I will take a serious run at making this happen.

My life has stabilized. There are always chances for destabilization, but that is with anyone. The thing I have now is a foundation that hopefully I can build upon, even rebuild on, if necessary.

I also have entered into a new relationship. It is not with someone “new” in my life, but it is with one of the women that I dated prior to my last long-term girlfriend, a woman that I met not long after “the Princess” that I once dated. She has a couple of adult daughters, one who has a child and is expecting another. Would I call either of her daughter’s situations “stable”? I am not sure about KT and her emergence into adulthood, so I would ask, “What is stable?”. But I will withhold my reservations as I feel that I can competently care for my own well-being, physically and mentally. Even talking about my “once and current” partner should not be necessary. She, along with her daughters, are all independent entities who exist in their own worlds, outside of my sphere of influence and direct concern.

I hope to start an amateur boxing program here in Papillion. Now the boxing team is not the only thing that I have in mind. I still want to go to school and I want to become a real estate agent as well. So that would make for me to really have my sh*t together, focused and hustling. The anxiety that I do have in my life relates to finding not only the order of actions that I should be taking but the general uncertainty that is a part of taking on a major project in one’s life. Much of the butterflies are self-induced, and that is why I am going to be journaling about my progress. So if anyone has any tips on writing a formal proposal or business plan… Any advice would be appreciated!

THE END OF THE SPRING

2021-07-01T20:34:00.004-04:00

I am very unsure of how I feel right now. It feels as if I am journeying through the nadir of everything, ever. The reality is much more forgiving than that, but, the feelings of sadness and hopelessness are thick in my heart and mind.

This may have been the last time that I will get to see KT. She has really taken a turn, blaming everyone for her unhappiness. Much of her ranting was boilerplate, typical complaints of an entitled young person. She accepts no responsibility for her own unhappiness, quick to point out all the faults in me, her Mom, and her Stepfather. Her ranting also failed to accurately condemn herself for the decisions that she made (after all, to have received scholarship offers from Columbia AND Michigan is something that I could have only dreamed of, and most people in that position would have chosen one, even if they were uncertain and worried about being up to the task. But she was not up for hearing that she had the option to make the decision and that neither her mother nor I was responsible for her not altering the trajectory of her life.

Her pleas that she was denied the opportunity to grow and experience life rings hollow as well. According to her Mom, the three primary adults in her life, her Stepfather and myself included, all bear the wrath of her disappointment, for not providing her with the things we specifically provided her with so that she can have the opportunity that we did not. From the first night, I knew that this was going to be a difficult month. I thought that we were going to laugh and take pictures and go see what was what with the nightlife. In the end, dropping her off at the airport, receiving and receiving a very uninspiring half-hug goodbye, was the most appropriate ending to her stay. For the first time, I felt like an unnecessary chapter in her life.

It is hard for me to focus on much of the venom and hate that she spewed. Her Mom is the this-that-and-the-other thing. I am all-the-things-that-Mom-was not. And while her stepfather was exalted (as was my former partner), her Mother assured me that changes with the breeze, as her fury, has touched him as well. In the end, it is safe to assume that she is the victim of a conspiracy that seeks to deny her the life she deserves… that of being a wife of a high-wage earning man, living off of his accomplishments while she handles the home, taking care of the children and making sure that the servants keep the estate neat.

Whenever I thought about what a parent would want for their child, I felt that the three of us had done a pretty good job. Her Mom, her Stepdad, handled most of the heavy lifting, and I felt that I was always there to “spot” the both of them, assisting whenever they seemed to falter. But lately, the last three or so years according to her Mom, she seems to have been influenced by social media, inspiring her to a retcon of her life. She is the victim of a Mother who did not know how to express her feelings, a non-existent Father, and a Stepfather, while he has his flaws, was the only one to have tried to prepare her for life. This outlook eschews whatever responsibility that falls to her for being the one who actually makes the decisions that altered her life. So no, I did not try to record her visit… I am looking forward to when my memory dulls the sharpness of the knives she flung at me and it becomes, “she hates me”, and nothing more. I could have saved myself the trouble of pleading for help in taking her around town, getting a car (more on that later).

She looked at my apartment and my living conditions with contempt. Would I not be more comfortable with Kitty, my ex? When I explained that despite her feelings for me, the execution of her love was too costly, both emotionally and materially, and I could not deal with the constant ups and downs of dealing with easily avoidable situations. At this point, I remembered what her Mom had said, that when she talks about “you”, she is really trying to find out something for and about HER. Now she has a relationship with an older forty-something African cat, and she is wondering why her “love” is not enough. Her chastising me for not remaining with Kitty, who truly loved me and was willing to care for me, made no sense to her. She feels that love in and of itself is enough and that someone who can love you for who you are and as you are, should be paramount. Still, that was the least of her concerns.

Being an only child, she is very selfish and everything has to be about her. Even when she shows concern, it is mostly about how a thing affects her and not the thing concerning anyone else. It is not a worry for my safety but how it made her feel that was upsetting to her. Right now, she is not a kind, nor good, person. Initially, I thought to chalk up most of her difficulties to the “failure to launch” problem that affects many twenty-somethings, and that is a part of it. But there are specifics to what she is going through that make me less-than-hopeful for her.

See, some of the questions that she is facing were things that I initially dealt with when I was 17 and decided to join the service. As much potential as I may have had, she clearly has much more, and its weight has become a burden. She would rather not live up to anything and seek the “easy way out” of not working and being someone’s wife. Growing up on the fringe of the Women’s Movement (DYK that the ERA has not been ratified..? WTF.!!) and growing up with women asserting their equality, the notion that a woman would want to be tied to the home seems ludicrous. But there are a lot of younger women who see this as a viable option, either work for a few years before starting a family or just forgoing work and being a housewife. As a teenager, I never heard young women stating that one of their goals was to be a Mother and wife FIRST, at the expense of ambition or a career. If anything, they would combine elements of each and have a full life. It sounds so different from how I perceived relationships when I was her age. It was more “us” and “we”, concepts that I still hold as viable, that in relation was the achievable aim.

So my pleading with people to help me fix my bike was not taken as high as I thought it would be. Neither was my improved job or living situation. That she does not think highly of me, especially because I am seemingly not willing to be with someone who loves me, is not of great concern. As my Mother would say to me… “I am your Mother, not your friend”, so I think similarly of my relationship with KT. If I am one of those “friends” that she fades away from as she lives her life, so be it. After all, I want her to be happy and successful with her life and if that means I am not a part of it… eh, oh well!

STILL IN SEARCH OF AN ENTRANCE

2021-06-01T23:50:00.001-04:00

"People are capable at any time in their lives, of doing what they dream of." - Paulo Coelho

I have not been able to blog as regularly as I like because I have been … well, lazy. Not that I would have actually called the reason “lazy” as the reason for my stretches of deep absences, but, the truth of the matter is that I did not muster the energy to write down what I was feeling. Having a blog, a commitment to myself, is one of the hallmarks of my journaling. Journaling forces me to slow down and analyze and digest my daily comings and goings, and clears some of the constant fog that comes with living each day. There are times where there is a line between what I call “being conscious” and what neurotypicals mean whenever they refer to “conscious”. And I mean by ANY state or feeling, any interpretation of what that word means.

Meditation helps me greatly. It slows everything down for me and it allows me to ‘go through the details’ of my day and pick through the things that I need to go on. Which leads me to something that I DO NOT think I need anymore, my once and current girlfriend. She had a problem with her vehicle, an expensive brake issue that I had taken care of a few years ago. But due to her negligence, the SAME THING now threatened her vehicle. While I did not want my journal to be full of “drama”, stories of careening from one avoidable circumstance to another, I am unable to write anything without first talking about the elephant in my thoughts.

She has been in a state that was approaching failure in her affairs from the very beginning. Yet, I was, as I have said before, taken by the way she made a first impression upon me and that was that with that. As I got to know her, I began to see why she had remained single, as she is a mediocre homekeeper, with a tendency to knick-knack clutter and pet slovenliness. Based on my initial assessment, I threw myself into trying to help her in all ways of the home, to no avail. No matter how much laundry, cleaning, dinner-making, and shopping that I did, nothing improved. She did not need someone to absorb some of the slack, she was more than ready to transfer it all off to me! This became a point of contention thanks in part to a conversation we had after the brake repair.

With my daughter’s KT visit bearing down on me, I was at a loss for what this meant for her visit. Getting the work done on the vehicle for my partner at this critical time in my life forced me to juggle my priorities. While admittedly, she, herself, did not come out and ask for me to help her out, c’mon… what choice did I really have, if we were indeed to potentially share our lives together? So what went wrong??

This is where I get a little off topic and talk more about why I have not been regular with journaling. Omaha has been a really good place for me (relationships be damned..!) and I am very comfortable with being able to take care of myself. But the past 5 or so years I have been languishing (LOL@Beth) as the world around me has found a steady “thrumm” to each day, almost hypnotizing me as entropy streams me towards the rather unspectacular end of my tour on this mortal coil. While we were a couple, the constant dissonance between the life we were leading together and the life that I felt was worth changing my goals were becoming an uncrossable chasm… unless I left when I did.

I do not know if I altered her course in life. Were I to make a case for “no”, it would be because I think that she was headed for this path without me. Part of my “why” for pursuing her was due to my empathy as I got to know her and her story. Besides, if I have to “own” my choices bringing me to this experience of ennui (ooh! Another scrabble word!!) that I am now enduring, then I feel that whatever is left between us, is being left adrift, and fairly so. After her unfair comparison to her daughter’s new boyfriend, f*ck her. To quote my man Dres of Black Sheep, “keep your problems to yourself kid, ‘cause I gots my own”.

We are sitting here a week from hosting my darling daughter! But in even BIGGER news, my youngest daughter has tentatively reached out to me about a relationship!! That has really gotten me stoked and once I manage to get through this patch of uncertainty that I am currently going through. See, when I started to blog again, I wanted to avoid the dramatic distractions that were becoming more and more a part of my life, thanks to someone who did not listen, and had their own agenda that was completely opposite of what I had expected of myself. For instance…

Whether or not KT brings her math books, I am STILL going to go to school and do maths! Even if I fail to get a Pell Grant!! Somehow I am going to figure that out and add to my growing character story!!! Which brings me to one more reason I wanted to forego the typical whining of a journal… as my disease progresses, I feel more aware of how much time I have in so many ways that I do not want to waste it on dead ends or chasing ghosts from the attic of my mind.

One of the things about the continued existence of this journal is that it will continue to be an accurate barometer of where I am at in reality. Maybe I will get a neurological test and be diagnosed with PD (cause I am feeling it in my bones) to go along with the suite of conditions that come with a traumatic brain injury. Again, trying to avoid the self-pity and woebegone hopelessness of being lost. After all, my life is not that dramatic and I cannot willfully drum up any drama either. One of the things that I hope to establish by blogging is building a clearinghouse for my ideas, hopes and dreams. As far as my last relationship experience is concerned...

TAKING BACK TIME

2021-03-06T20:32:00.000-05:00

Being off on a Saturday has really thrown me off. For nearly ten years I have gone to work every Saturday and though I am out for a legitimate health reason (gout flare), it feels weird to be sitting in front of the television and trying to find something watchable among the Netflix offerings (today, it is a show “Tall Girl”...honestly, it is not very watchable). So it feels strange to have been sitting around in my cluttered apartment with nothing to either do or think about, especially when I have been trying to get my mind focused and become driven!

I have decided to focus on becoming an actuary! It has been a relief to finally know why I am going to school… especially since I have in many ways come full circle! My declared major at A&T was finance… and for 30 years I have been running away from what has likely been my destiny all along. This decision was spurred during a conversation with KT last year and listening to her talk about maths made me realize that I was sorta-okay with my maths. It is never that I have had a great passion about the subject but I have no real burning about anything. Talking with my daughter has fired the yearning for mathematics and it is a legitimate feeling. So I cannot wait to go back to school with a purpose.

My relationship has been going well. If you were to Google Maps a picture of the apartment complexes that we live in, you would see how close we are to one another. So we spend enough time with one another, rarely getting close to being tired of our time together. There are only the lingering memories of having the one rule I try to stick and adhere to in relationships crossed. Right now, I am spending some of my own “goodwill charm” that I have acquired throughout my life and decided to use it on this relationship. Eh, it is about time! I have benefited from the forgiveness of others plenty of times when it comes to relationships. I have to mature, grow up, and be an adult!

Growing is another reason I have not had much to write about. I think that mentally I am trying to be something and not looking back over my life and more concerned with where I am going. Allowing for reflection on moments that I was BEING and truly in the moment as well as the person that I am, it seems that I have spent more time in the moments that I am experiencing and really, have been for the last 10 years, would explain why I have not been kvetching about my being. My state of being has been in a very good, positive range. And a large part of that has been due to all the blogging that I had done in the years prior to my arrival in Omaha. Besides, I also enjoyed reading what others had to say! I still miss the closeness of the blogging community and I have kept peeking in and trying to maintain my presence, just in case someone would come back out looking for a friend to give them some advice.

I want to be that friend. I would like to think that part of my character is being “that guy”. Not the reckless and immature cat (who I used to refer to as, “Mark, the much-hated!” with a smile) that fecklessly loved and hurt people by being an “emotional terrorist”. Because those are things I have not been literally for over 20 years, if not longer, and those are character traits that have not been a part of my true character, ever!

BREATHING IN

2021-01-22T16:59:00.006-05:00

I had thought that I would be sharing my thoughts and opinions regarding the uprisings at the Capitol. While I do have my own thoughts about what took place and the why to the release of fear and frustration, with the different factions of society, the “act locally” part of me is really not engaged the gathering at the Capitol (cause it was not organized enough to have really been a protest) and it keeps telling me that whatever took place in Washington is NOT important enough for me to focus and concentrate on RIGHT NOW. It is more like there is the same grim acknowledgement that has plagued “out-groups” in America only since the Puritans landed here… and that is there always has to be a particular group for the working classes to point as “lower” than they are. There has been someone that was at the bottom of the social totem pole that did not look like those driven to swarm the Capitol (with all the known information about the failings of security, from the White House advising the Capitol Police to NOT ACCEPT the National Guard’s help, to the guy egging on his low information and benighted followers, how is that cat going to avoid being drugged in mud, if not convicted of a crime..?) to act as scapegoats. Now, the folks at the bottom of the totem pole not only look like “us”, it IS “us”. Being that this is an emotional thing, to comment on the intelligence of those who were a part of the protests, in spirit if not in there physically, is to miss the point of the thing. Anywho…

I am going to focus on getting myself enrolled in school for the fall. I know what I want to focus on… being a mathematics/statistics major or actuarial science. This will be more like me going back to when I INITIALLY went to college almost 30 years ago, to major in Finance. My inspiration came from a conversation that KT’s Mom and I had back in late summer last year. We were talking about our daughter and the topic of “where did she get that from” came up. Now I have not ever been one to project my qualities one way or the other unto my children… Some of the traits that my daughter’s have that are attributed to me, are, in my eyes, a result of manifestation of a behavior under certain circumstances. Sure, if X is going on and the only choices are Z and Y, that means the chance that one of my daughters makes the same choice or similar to one that I made is pretty high, but no more than mere coincidence.

KT has changed all of that for me. Though she has her own “will to be” to account for her decisions, the whole “she got her math side from her father” has struck a chord in me. In the discussions between me, her and her Mom, regarding her professional choices, I want to believe that I (cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame!) heard echoes of the possibilities that were just as vaguely as it is for her, floating around in MY head.

So as I drifted back to my own state-of-affairs, I did so with the will to go back and finish my education by focusing on Actuarial Science/Mathematics/Statistics leaning. Messing around with numbers and finding out the stories that they tell has always intrigued me. Coming to this conclusion had a feeling of finality… I mean, this is IT. This really feels like what I am going to be… mental hardship or no!

Finally, I am still disturbed by what took place in Washington. It has changed my work environment… seeing men and women with the colors of the Proud Boys/QAnon movements… I do not know what is going to trigger them no more than African-American boys like Emmett Till did when the crowd came for him. I do not really trust “new” people coming into my life and I remain at a distance from my co-workers. That is one of the things that I know that I have lost, the level of safety and comfort that I had been feeling. From here on out, the “no, you stay where you are and come no closer” will be the policy until further notice. Will things get better now that Biden has taken office..? Not sure if I have voiced it in here or not, but I DO NOT TRUST HIM. In fact, I remain unconvinced that he is not who I think he is… a redneck from Pennsylvania as far as his social stance, and that he is part of the oligarchy, insofar as his political career benefits him.

NOT RANDOM BUT THEY COUNT AS THOUGHTS... JUST CANNOT TELL WHAT KIND THEY ARE

2020-11-19T19:20:00.010-05:00

Here is the deal… late 80’s early 90’s Detroit. We are in the Plymouth and Southfield area and the fallout from the 80’s crack epidemic is still visible, with vacant houses and closed small businesses (like that party store that was on Capitol Street at the north end of the block) are vacant, and shuttered. Unkempt plots of land clutter with debris from homes that were hastily (or uncaringly) vacated. The glass from broken windows from the empty houses that are left as shells, the plumbing ripped from the empty and wanting family dwellings. Nearby, there is a big industrial park in the middle of the neighborhood that seems to split the area along with a freeway that completely left the neighborhood broken, literally and in spirit as well. On the south side of the freeway cloverleaf that lingers above the freeway that splits the east from the west, is a service drive that also has a rarely used access road (mirrored on the freeway’s west side) for the industrial park that cleaves through the neighborhood, both on the east and west side of the freeway.

The combination of the underpass (the cloverleaf connecting another freeway running east-west) and the business park forms a foreboding obstacle for children walking through the area. Everything about it screams “stranger danger”, even in daylight hours. At night, when the prostitutes and drug dealers come out, it is more than intimidating to even the most daring teen or pre-teen, trying to get from the south part of the service drive over to the north. None of which dissuades our teenage traveler from leaving in the late evening hours to walk through the neighborhood “dead zone” as he heads for his home.

In the 70’s it was a dangerous era for children. There were missing children who were never found in nearby Oakland County; meanwhile, Atlanta was holding its breath as young black boys would go missing. Those were among several cases that resulted in the protective custody style of rearing children that we see today. The leash would tighten on the children as parents stopped with the “free-range” parenting of the 50's and rearing children began to take the shape of bringing up children that we see today. From leaving your child to run the neighborhood freely from the afternoon until “the streetlights came on” has faded into the past and in its place find the helicopter parenting and the “childproofing” of the outside world. This story would be unlikely were it to occur now, and even in the retelling of the tale, has few equivalents that would be believed. Only if you understood the legacies of things like COINTELPRO and MKUltra, would you even consider the possibility of the truth that you will hear. But this, like the aforementioned programs against the people of this country, is a story that speaks on the unfettered power of the rich and the infant-like vulnerableness of all for whom real agency is but an imagined myth, learned and repeated throughout their “indoctrination” i.e., public schooling.

We are never told what policy the government has domestically… most of us begin thinking that it is a government OF the people FOR the people. And it is, in a way. Only it is not for nor of the people that you think it is… we are told that this country was founded in search of religious opportunity, driving the Puritans to reach out and journey to the New World. But I never recall anyone ever talking about the business prospects that initially enriched England and the great shipping companies until “nationalization” took place through the Revolutionary War, which should have revealed the ultimate motive for the exploration of the New World… its exploitation and profiteering by the moneyed class. From that history, putting profitability and business interest before human life comes urban neighborhoods, designed unlike the suburban areas, designed with family livability in mind. Not only does it make for simpler policing, but it also makes for good hunting. Not only does it make for simpler policing, but it also makes for good hunting. After all, only THE OTHER, who primarily lives outside of the city really matters, and as long as they can get from the center of the business and entertainment districts, who cares what is going on to the people who live there… after all, they are animals, the lot of them, ESPECIALLY the young.

IN LOOKING AT DAYS GONE PAST

2020-09-06T00:24:00.000-04:00

...OUR ROMEO…

I ran across a new employee who has Michigan roots. In fact, she has a very strong connection to where I did most of my growing up and “maturing” during adolescence, and her Mom even graduate from the same high school as a friend, one who I have not mentioned in many, many years, and whose memories of have waned and suffered over time.

This young woman had mentioned that she liked the tee shirt that I wore to work one day… and it was a Michigan State tee with one of the Spartan logos adoring the front, trimmed in green and white coloring on a heather gray background. I asked if she was from Michigan and she said yes and no. Her Mom did her undergrad in East Lansing and had grown up in the Detroit area, where she made her own “world debut” of sorts. She knew several key streets and knew enough landmarks to have been a native from the Metro. Of course, I was very enthusiastic in our conversation and it made me realize that though small, and in a very incremental way, life was happening to me and it was positive. My partner and I were a happy couple again, work was going well and I really like my new apartment. Now, almost as if to close a door on my self-destructive nature and to say, “If you really are looking for another opportunity to make the most of your life experience, here it is' '. I met a new co-worker, who I will say is replacing another woman, a bit older that she (the new young woman is in her early 20’s… she took the spot of someone who was at least in her late 30’s) and this meant that a particular kind of pressure was removed from MY LIFE.

See, a couple of weeks after I began working at the Rec Center, a department co-worker inquired about my “relationship availability”. Because I am going to “work” my disability as a means to slow down interactions so that I may truly think through them, I get to be a little slow with putting things together. This time, it was my co-worker looking out for a friend, and she wanted to know my relationship status. I told her right off that I was NOT in the market, but for some reason her question triggered an “alert” status in my mind. So I asked, suspicious of the question as I have not been spoken about in such fashion too often in my life. I wanted, and this is the first thing that came up, to know more about this “friend” of hers. Other than her first name (which was immediately lost in my mind), I did not really pry for information… because I did not care to know this person. I did think that it was another woman at the Rec Center, as she had been normally friendly to me, but she did seem to be particular about how she spoke to me. This would then set about another thread of thinking about this woman’s identity, but I did not care to know anything more about this person. I noticed the people who took particular notice of me… the last time that I kind of sensed that someone was interested in me at a workplace was when I dated Tee Jay. Objectively, she would have been a “go”, but I had totally committed to my “once and future partner” so there was no real interest… just the dangerous “what if” kind of interest that lingers about to see how deep and true

your nature and character truly runs. Knowing my faults and where the lines are in my character, for me, this was another opportunity to show if I was serious about my feelings for Kitty (there it is..!) or was I saying the “right” things to her and about us because of the convenience. The answer came in the Redford Thurston young woman taking the place of my “secret admirer”, so that was that with that. Everyone who may have pretended to like me in Nebraska are essentially gone… they have moved to different places with different relationships and other than for the part of my brain that occupies itself with “what if” fictions for the sake of creating a story or something (such as a crappy journal entry!).

SOMETIMES THEY DO COME BACK… BUT EVEN THEN, THEY REALLY SHOULD NOT HAVE

The conversation that I had with my new co-worker piqued my interest in some of the local places that I knew from her area. I know that I lost her when I mentioned the Farrell’s Ice Cream shop, a place that fashioned itself as an late-1800’s eatery. I think that it was replaced by a car dealership, if I am correct. Also, there was a bakery that I mentioned that she did not have a remembrance of, and it made me think about other things that I would be looking for in the Metro, like the Record Collector and, of course, the Astoria Bakery (and Mrs. Maddox as well..!), places that are now in the long gone and past, things that were familiar for a generation that is long gone. I have never wanted to return to Detroit, although I should go back and see my Father (and stop by South Bend along the way!!). To me, they are both no-brainers, but with me (shhh!!) showing signs of slippage that Kitty and her daughter have brought up the idea of a “therapy dog” to help me navigate around the house, eh, I am not really sure about leaving home any time soon! Still, the idea of going to Indiana, Michigan and Carolina in the next year or so, sort of sounds like a “challenge accepted” kind of thing. Anywho…

I was happy with my behavior recently. Sometimes I wonder if I really have grown any, or am I simply a modern-day Egyptian, still living near “De-Nile”. The feelings that come back, the antiquated thoughts of a person that I can no longer identify with, at least not with a few hints, have no real place in my life and none in my future. Hopefully, I will be able to make a medical appointment and see about so “stuff” and get that cleared up. Otherwise, things have been well… just a little fatigue, which is to be expected. After all, the future does not wait for you to begin it’s building… it is going to happen whether you are ready or not!!

ANOTHER LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

2020-07-27T15:35:00.001-04:00

Hope you are doing well. I think that you are due to a couple of new email addresses, a personal one and a professional one. You prolly have them already and I simply am out of that loop, but regardless, it is good advice!

That is something that I have set as a goal for our relationship. I want to be someone that you think of when it comes to regard to your confidence. I know that I did not feel those comfortable sharing things with other people, whether it was a personality defect on my part, or if there were real signs of risk in trusting other people, I tend to keep things to myself. Now that I am older, with the gap between generations has grown wider than in generations past, possibly because of technological influence on human relationships, I am even more a believer in making things as simple as possible, which is the crux of David Goggins book, “Can’t Hurt Me”. Set a goal, do whatever it takes to achieve it, then set another just a little bit higher. The thing about this method is, we all KNOW the process… we get confused because it is hard. Sometimes, I think that is something that plagues you (as well as yours truly!).

Right now, at the quarter-life point of your journey, you have some hard decisions to make. What do YOU want to do with life, meaning what do you want to accomplish without something external to yourself, to give meaning to your actions? What do you want to be, in that you are the only variable that you can manipulate and factor? For some reason, I get the feeling that you see yourself as the Princess in one of the Mario Bros. games… waiting to be rescued from something that you could have avoided yourself! At any rate, you are quickly running out of time, this I know from MY EXPERIENCE at this point and time in my life. I knew that I was about to embark on what would be the project to truly live my dreams… and I was unable to do that. I do not want that for you. There has been too much talent and investment made in you for you not to be a high achiever, in that you have the power to live a noble life of your own choosing. But there is one provision that cannot be avoided… whatever life you lead, it will only be positive if you positively work to make it that way. Nothing, absolutely nothing, will be given to you of your dream, you will have to work for it.

Sitting from afar, I wonder if you have it in you, the will to make your life happen. I am not criticizing you or trying to nag you… I have to do the same! In fact, I am going to enroll in school in January and finish up what has become an albatross around my self-esteem. The thing about happiness is that it always comes with a price… and it depends on how much it means to you as far as what it costs.

Anywho… I am talking in circles now… and fortunately, my class is about to start! Hope you are well.!!

Love & Rockets!

Dad

...THE DEFINITIVE BOOK REVIEW OF "CAN'T HURT ME"

2020-07-04T15:23:00.000-04:00

I was rather disingenuous with my review of “Can’t Hurt Me” by David Goggins. For me to have stepped away from the subjective opinion and try to consider the book with an objective mind is NOT why I read the book! Shoot, I have no idea why I was concerned with how anyone else saw the book… after all, isn’t that what giving an opinion of something is all about? That said, I have decided to try this again!

The Joe Rogan podcast is pretty popular these days. In fact, he has a big money deal with Spotify for exclusive rights to the property. He has come so far from the lame, one-in- a-million comedian track he was on. He has grown to where very intriguing guests come on to talk about whatever is one his or the guest’s mind, especially with regard to the news of the day. Like any show, the perspectives vary from person to person, and I am unable to pigeon-hole the show, though I do feel that it has strong hints of “white maleness” to it. It was that particular note that made me stay away from “...Hurt Me” as I did. In my mind, I pictured underachieving frat boys getting all gung-ho about this Navy guy who did all this cocky, “Rambo” kind of stuff. And while that part of it was true, what allowed the book to speak to me was his upbringing in Brazil, Indiana.

David’s home life as a child was complicated, but not atypically. He was brought up amid the experiences of what I considered “normal” for a brother, even though it was in a small town. While he did not go into the family dynamics, I saw a similarity between David’s experience and two cousin’s of mine.

Trunnis, named after his father, was David’s older brother. Their father was a hustler of sorts. He ran a skating rink and did other extra-legal activities that were not explored in the book. That “side hustle” stuff and the relationships within the family seemed to mirror that of my cousin’s, as well as the marriage that my Aunt had with my Uncle. This also included the eldest cousin being named for his father as well!

How Goggins’ described that part of his life, though only a sliver, was enough for me to extrapolate enough meaning to what drove him to find his “why to life”, as I could almost literally plug in family to understand his experiences and infer more intimate details from them. That is what connected me to the book in a personal way that other books of the “you can do it”(using my Rob Schneider from “The Waterboy” voice). It was being able to connect with the author’s upbringing that made me want to see what it was about. While he did not get into the sibling aspect any deeper than just the fact that he had a brother (who chose to stay with their father), I did feel a connection to him and why he chose to find himself in the military.

The family was “hood rich” in the original sense of the word. It was not wealth, but procurement of “things” that gave the illusion of wealth, of respectability, that made his father’s hustle seem valid. Again, not much detail from the book, but I know how that works. I saw it with my own two eyes. It is because of that, and what it took for him to emerge from where he was as a young adult, that made the connection to his story “real” for me.

I do think that he could have spoken to a different, if not broader, audience with his book. Maybe the research skewed in such a way that he was incentivized to write a certain kind of book, I don’t know. Still, I would have hoped to find a direct link between his discovery of what he wanted and expected of himself and what that realization was like. Perhaps that is where my biases about self-help books causes my interest to run aground. He did not talk much about what he thought of himself and what he was looking forward to being in life before it hit him to join the Navy. This is critical, because he went in as prior service.

Again, here I have another direct parallel. My younger sister was prior service. She started in the Air Force and would retire in the Army. What went on in Goggin’s career as an Airman that disincentivized him from making a career out of that? I think back to my younger self, and had I would have returned to the Army had my medical records allowed me to do so. I knew that my sister did not think that she could advance in the Air Force… maybe that was a thing for Goggins too, that lack of movement in the ranks. While I could only wonder, it would have been nice to hear about it.

Most of his accomplishments speak for themselves. Air Force Pararescue, Army Ranger, and of course, Navy Seal. And if you have “Navy Seal” on your resume, being a tough MF is practically a given. The depth and detail of his ultramarathon career did have more to it, and again, I have a personal insight which also will provide a significant difference between the both of us, one which might explain the “overarching why” to our different outcomes.

Though I have only one marathon to my credit, I have spent years training as a boxer and as a soldier. Outside of one episode of muscle failure in the service, I have NEVER experienced any of the physical or mental “fail” that Goggins endured, even as I pushed myself to extremes, many of them unexpected and spur of the moment. To wit:

Back in the angsty days of yore, my ex-wife would get frustrated with me and either not pick me up/put me out of her car, and these episodes would happen in “frequent enough” intervals, as I was always apt to push her buttons. One notable winter, this happened at the Southland Mall, in Taylor, Michigan.

Whatever was said between us has long since been forgotten (this is something that I did not remember immediately following the event, so no worries!)but the long, cold, January walk has been seared into my DNA. Since this was not long after my military service, armed with enough repeatable “Jody Calls” to move a battalion, I “left foot, right foot” north on Telegraph Road all the way to 7 Mile and Telegraph. I have no idea of the time, I know that I stumbled into my Mom’s house, giggling with the euphoria that comes from spending hours moving in below freezing temperature with 2-3” inches of snow and ice on the ground. The feeling of accomplishment kept me warm throughout my journey, and it has been an event (along with an early 80’s ice storm) that comes to mind when I have to be “tough”.

In his book, David Goggins speaks about “callusing your mind” as one of the most important qualities to have on your road to accomplishment. His notion of “callusing” shares DNA with both the concept of friction and resistance, as I believe all three are strategies that explain the gap between my own phrase, “theory and practice”. When the author talks about running hundreds of miles with his toenails falling off, when all the shock to his body makes the seeming-insane ascent that he has to run next-to-impossible to consider, these are when the concept that is represent by words like “friction” and “callusing” come to bear. They pull the mind into accepting the task at hand as a proposition, and the mind then sets about ways to find a solution, convincing the brain to the execution of said solution.

The idea of “callusing the mind” is not unfamiliar to me. My favorite trainer often used the phrase, “the body is a slave to the mind”. Had my ego been more centered at that time, then… At any rate, I have only found evidence that would confirm his words, and cause me to reflect on what I was exposed to academically, wondering why more information is not given to students quite as succinct or as profoundly.

Finally, the notion that you have to “callus the mind” to overcome both “friction” and “resistance” is quantum in nature. While you may achieve your goal by whatever means, it comes with a price, and that price has been known for all of time. Of COURSE, life is quantum… once you make a decision to act, all of the other possibilities collapse and you begin to crest a wave to another choice, erasing all of the “once possible” behind you and leaving you with “all the mistakes that are waiting to be made” ahead of you.

That is what I find missing from the book. There is no reconsideration for his choices, no sense of loss or of regret. David Goggins has lived a life of necessary conditions, and it was his relentlessness to living a measured life, that led to his accomplishing all that he has to reach the person he is.

Now THIS is the kind of review I had wanted to write! I guess I will have to discover my process as a writer, because whatever I was doing before was not as satisfying as the do-over! My Pressfield books (“Do The Work”, “Going Pro”) are here and when I figure out which one is first, that will be coming up next!

...BUT REALLY, I WOULD NOT MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRY ANYWAY..!

2020-06-30T21:42:00.000-04:00

MY FIRST BOOK REVIEW..! I just finished reading the book, “Can’t Hurt Me” by retired Marine David Goggins. It is an inspirational story (of sorts) of the author’s methods of motivating himself and changing his life. I am not a fan of “self-help” titles but I have long felt that was due to my own arrogance and prejudices. The book was relatable, not only from my own nod at the military but from how he went from an overweight restaurant exterminator to a decorated Navy Seal, serving on missions, not to mention his qualifications not only as a Seal but in both as an Army Ranger and as an Air Force Tactical Controller. He has also competed in many triathlons, at the world-class level. I also found it relatable based on what he did not linger on, especially in his personal life.

Solving for my skepticism, I found that “Can’t Hurt Me” was an inspiring read. While I am too cynical to become a “fanboy” of the author, I do admire him for his walk, from barely being able to read and pass the ASVAB Miltary exam, to becoming a decorated member of the Armed Forces. He did leave enough of a hint at some of the personal darkness that he had to overcome in his family. But because he did not go in that direction, eschewing the sad home life trope, so I could only speculate on what I saw in his domestic life as a young man and as an adult. Anyway, a reader could definitely understand that nothing came easily for him and that it was his conscious choice to BE, that is taking full responsibility for himself, that he could take full charge of his life to remake himself into the person that he would become.

If you are looking for a expose on dealing with racism, classism, and all the conflicts that have been dominating headlines recently, this is not that kind of book. In fact, the refreshing part of his story is how little he cites things that could be perceived as disadvantages as reasons for anything at all. He does not spend a lot of time talking about how few African-Americans go on to become Navy Seals… in fact, there is very little discussion about race. There is no sense of his ever being a victim, even in his childhood, which is of itself quite admirable. Even when he describes episodes where his health wavers, or even his childhood in Buffalo, it is done very matter-of-factly. David Goggins does not pause for complaining or hand-wringing. He looked into the same mirror where he found a problem deep enough until he saw the solution, standing in the same mirror, looking back at him.

As I mentioned earlier, I do not find much use of the self-help genre. Looking back at my young adulthood, I tried to make sense of “How To Be A Millionaire” by Napoleon Hill. Even now, as I recently revisited “...Millionaire”, again found it to be pedantic, and it seemed like a rehashing of things you already know. And I guess that is where the allure of self-help lies… that “other voice” that encourages and reaffirms your goals and hopes. Some authors have an “authentic voice” that reaches beyond the doubt that people have of themselves. Besides, all of us could use another person who adds to their confidence. So I get where people who have read “...Hurt Me” have gotten stoked. I may as well add myself to that group, as I was impressed by his achievements and how he overcame the internal enemy inside of himself.

Finally, one of the primary things that I find problematic about these kinds of stories, this book answered, at least, partly. Goggins overcame the only real enemy, the one within. He never takes the easy way out, he always takes full responsibility for what goes down. Perhaps that is part of what makes his journey so admirable. I never got the feeling that he was handed anything that he did not earn and his hard-charging life philosophy kept his circle of people around him tight, but that seems to be part of the price for nearly all of us.

I think that I would give the book a solid “4” stars out of 5. There are some holes that when I reflect upon what I took from the book that are asking to be filled. And his military career was also pretty vague. Overall, the message that you need to harden and “callous” your mind to deal with the ups and downs you face in life was pretty clear.

*****

This is going to be my first You Tube book review! I have long been envious of Beth’s book reviews! Reading, for me, has to become just like working out… it is something that I do out of habit. My tastes may have to change (more contemporary works and culturally relevant) but if my daughter actually comes out west to live with me, it could be a father/daughter thing as she is a reader as well! Additionally, I am studying up on scriptwriting, as there is a script or two for movies somewhere around in my mind.

Work has been going well and I feel like I get along with most everyone at the Recreation Center. When things begin opening up after the holiday, I expect the place to get PACKED!

WONDER WHAT HEMMINGWAY WOULD MAKE OF THE TIMES

2020-06-07T18:11:00.000-04:00

This time is different. It certainly feels different.

Personally, several “allies” have reached out to me and offered their condolences and apologies for the systemic issues that have been highlighted in the killings of Ahmed Aubrey, George Lloyd, and Breona Taylor (and her boyfriend) recently. I spoke sincerely with each one (including my once and current partner) and I was left feeling better about myself and the world. That is my OBJECTIVE perspective. PERSONALLY… Well, this IS a journal about my wanderings in this “whatever” that we call reality, so let’s get to it!

Of COURSE, the George Lloyd incident, like with the Ahmed Aubrey incident, landed in my wheelhouse. If I could see myself as Aubrey, you HAVE to know that I, too, am George Lloyd in a way that is way more direct and personal than claiming to “be” him in a spiritual way. In fact, visiting my “old” new girlfriend, I had a moment at the gas station across the street from her apartment complex that could have easily lent itself to the possibility of a similar incident here in Omaha.

I had only finished working (at the Papillion Landing Rec Center) and had rode about 6 miles from work to the gas station. Processing my surroundings as I adjusted to a new and unfamiliar route, I had not eaten or had anything to drink for most of the day. In fact, that is what drove me to stop at the gas station. A piece of candy and a non-carbonated drink was on my mind and then the fog would be lifted. Only I had not finished my transaction.

My bank card was due a replacement, which I did not know that at the time. Because of my stupor, I was unresponsive to the cashier and there was a line forming behind me. When I finally understood that my card was declining, the guy who was behind me had simply paid for my purchase. I thanked him and took my leave. It was not until I had sat down and had a drink or two of the sweet tea and a piece of the candy I bought from the gas station that I was able to understand what had just taken place. The similarity was close… of course this was in Omaha and not Minneapolis, but I don’t know how different Omaha IS from Minneapolis. My partner has already expressed her concern for me, this coming right after the Aubrey incident. Now here I was, zoning out at a convenience store that may be similar to the one that George Lloyd was in… hell, I don’t know. Yet, as Louis CK once opined, “...but MMMAAAYYBBEEE…”, which is the position I would have been in. At least as far as the narrative would have gone… “he should not have been trying to pass an invalid debit card off when trying to make a purchase”.

So, yeah. There has been that. Still have not had the courage to go back out and run since Ahmed was shot and now I do wonder when I will go to the next quick stop for a snack. These are among the considerations that you have to make when you are African-American, and in the Lloyd case, it does not matter if your path crosses that of a member of another minority. YOU, the African American, in this country because your ancestors were STOLEN from their homeland… you are always and still, THE OTHER.

As I mentioned at the start, the conversations and ACTIONS of others in my circle are what gives me hope that this time, this will be different. I can only hope that the impact within the African-American community can not only be strong, but long-lasting. We should be ACCORDED respect… it is not something that should be asked for, as a member of society and as a human being. The look of indifference on Officer Chavous' face as he consciously choked the life out of George Lloyd is haunting. But it is also the look of indifference that many White Americans have of African-Americans. Though every group can speak of their own slights within American society, African-Americans, have grievances that shadows the country like no other (yeah, I know about the Native Americans… this is NOT that story).

When I think about the last time there was a social uproar like this, the Rodney King riots, there was more distance from the act itself… the riots were in response to the officers getting away with little damage, not the beating. This time, the reaction went hand in hand with the incident of grievance. That this was seen by everyone who had eyes to see it for what it was, the snuffing out of a life, has kept the dialogue up in the social consciousness for a longer time.

I am not sure if this means that there will be changes to policing, insofar as how they deal with the various communities that they serve. To me, “to serve and protect” has always meant that the ones who were “served and protected” were the white, elite classes of people. It has never meant what it is widely assumed to mean, to serve and protect the public at large. KRS-One once made a rap about “the sound of the police” and in his lyrics he blurred the word “overseer” into “officer”, hinting that officers of the law are more the enforcer of rules provided by the plantation owner, not the people. The only line of demarcation that exists in mankind is the line between the have and have nots. It is on the level of institution, not individual, that needs to be shaken.

MEANWHILE, IN OTHER NEWS

Yes, Kitty and I are a couple again. Even though I did have a brief interaction with another person, Kitty and I have always had open lines of communication and I believe that the both of us have grown over the past year. We have talked about some of what was not constructive in our relationship and I have been assured that we will be able to talk through everything between us as we move ahead.

I have always been leery of the “chip off the old block” stuff. There are so many qualities and reasons for behaviour that I have felt that it was lazy to attribute things to your parents. Statements like, “You are just like your father/mother…” seem to lack imagination, and the vague notion that you are not yourself but owe your character to a force outside of yourself would devalue the notion of free will (which, I do not believe in!). While I know that my other daughters have heard the “you are just like…” statement made after doing or saying something that their Mom thinks I would have said, KT, is sooo much like me that it stills my heart.

The last couple of years we have spent HOURS on the phone talking about life, her ups and downs, and of course… BOYS! I am very flattered that she considers me a best friend and confidant, and I do try to excise detail from conversations with her Mom about our conversations, so that she can feel secure in sharing with me. When her Mom pushes for more information, I usually fall back on, “you know that I don’t remember more than that!”, which in itself is a “true half-truth” statement. If anything, I hope that she gets a chance to visit when the restrictions are lifted and she can spend a couple of weeks with me.

I am about to begin the book, “Can’t Hurt Me”, by David Goggins. He is a guy who went through three elite military programs run by the Air Force, Army, and Navy. It talks about his journey from a place of aimlessness to where he is able to compete in ultramarathons and other feats of toughness for charity and the simple sense of personal accomplishment. One of the reasons that I am back to journaling, is that I need personal accountability that comes with regular journaling. Which brings me to the next step on my journey… REGULAR JOURNALING.

The drama of the everyday, “the trifles of life”, is not what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to write and talk about how I can be better at my Rock Steady franchise, be a better person and set goals to achieve. I wonder how many people who started reading my journal really thought that the guy with traumatic brain injury was REALLY going to move to Omaha and thrive..? Doesn’t matter, because I ALWAYS BELIEVED in me!

THE THINGS THAT I THINK THAT I THINK ABOUT WHEN THEY ARE THINKING OF REOPENING THE STATE

2020-05-11T21:26:00.000-04:00

...AND WHY I NEVER WENT FULL-BLOWN CONSPIRACY GUY

When I mentioned my tendency to give provenance to conspiracy theory and the suspicion inherent to them, I tried to indicate that I only would go “so far”. I tend to look for tethering to some accepted and objective reality with which I use to prove the “something’s out there” part of the theory. I do not continue to dig as though I was mining for Bitcoin, and get all “deep state” or “finding out how far the rabbit hole goes”. I don’t stretch or warp logic, as that means that at some point there is a leap of faith taken. Were I inclined to take such leaps, then I would not be agnostic. Or, someone who accepts conspiracy theories full cloth.

There were a couple of recent incidents that struck a personal chord. One, was the incident in Indianapolis, where the driver, Drejeanon Reed, led officers on a chase through somewhere in Naptown, and where the officers were able to track and unload their weapons and dropped the young man, first with tasers and THEN with lethal force. One of the officers, presumably black, made a tasteless comment. “It’s gonna be a closed casket”, referencing Reed's anticipated funeral service. As far as the behavior of the officers, it is similar to how we took on tasks in the service, how I deal with the unpopular, grunt part of work. Seems like the officers on the scene were up to their elbows with the kind of work that led me often to say, “Well, it looks like the hero business is up to me”, a phrase that I co-opted from Bill Watterson’s “Calvin ‘n Hobbes”. I did not pick up any vibes from the behavior of the officers, who were chasing down a threat to property and life. So there was no real outrage, at least nothing that reached the national level (but I could be wrong… I have not followed the news since 2016) of protest and outrage that captivates the SJW’s and MAGA folks. The other case, down in Georgia, struck a personal chord of sorts.

Ahmaud Aubrey was said to be jogging through his Georgia neighborhood. He was approached by some neighborhood watch members, two white men who were father and son, with father having ties to local law enforcement. While I was, and am still, not too certain of THE FACTS, the Dad and his son just looked like the kind of men who I envision shooting another man because he was of the wrong skin color.

So with this case, you have a lot of assumptions you have to fight through. Being told that Ahmaud was simply “jogging’ (which is a spurious claim and being walked back) through the area, it made me reflect on days I spent jogging through neighborhoods on the West Side of Detroit. In hindsight, I can see why that was not in any shape or form a perfect identification, but I went with it.

OH, THERE IS VIDEO OF THIS, TOO (but I am NOT posting any of it..!)

And it makes me want to ask ALL the questions. First, why was Ahmaud in the house? It was not what I, and most people who hear, “house under construction”, think of when those words are used together. It was prolly nearer to being “inspection ready” than it was under construction, so why was Abery IN the house? Why would he stop from A RUN (which, IMO, a runner would NOT do unless some sort of duress was involved) to go into an empty house in the evening..? Hearing this, my “Spidey-sense” begins to tingle. From what he was dressed in (Docker-style shorts and flat canvas sneakers??) to his behavior around the property (again, who stops in the middle of a run to GO INTO A HOUSE AND LOOK AROUND??) and his history (cause if I was going to run Jim Bob and his inbred looking son into the ground, the fact that Ahmaud was not a choir-boy by any means has to come in as well) as a troublemaker, I think that the two cra--, er, “neighborhood watch patrol” had every right to question him.

Then… there is the wrestling scene between Ahmaud and the younger McMichael before shotgun blasts are heard in the video. Ahmaud staggers for a few steps, then he drops. At this point, what story is going to have more validity… that two Goobers from Georgia, with ties to law enforcement assassinated a black man for “jogging”, or that two members of a neighborhood watch responded to a suspicious character walking through an unattended property under construction? “If it bleeds, it leads”, and you aren’t going to get much too bloodier than this.

Now that I have a cooler, less migraine-y, head to think about what has actually been reported, I have to wonder if this isn’t a case of much ado about the wrong thing? What was Ahmaud doing IN THE PROPERTY. Who does not know that is CRIMINAL TRESPASS? I mean, he had to open a door… it was not like the kind of construction site that I would walk through in my neighborhood when I was TWENTY-FIVE, taking it like a shortcut to another block, this home was having the interior installed. So, WHY WAS HE IN THE HOUSE??

Also, his trouble-making past, giving his attackers reason for approaching him, should be mentioned. He was by no means an angel, and again, trespassing is against the law. I assume that Ahmaud knew THAT before he creeped into the house! Man…

I wonder what it is called when conspiracy theories overlap… a confluence of insanity?? I mean, does this incident help derail the re-election by guilting conservatives and energizing the liberals? Or does this cause conservatives, angered and ironically, “triggered” by the incident to come out in droves to make sure that “the libs” get owned and MAGA is kept in power? No matter what I think the Aubrey incident represents (mainly, me trying to get home through chippy neighborhood through chippy neighborhood) is the kind of cognitive dissonance that allows for curtains of grey to cast shadows on everything, blurring things just enough that they are never clearly made out.

IT IS A CONSPIRACY -TYPE POST

2020-04-21T16:43:00.000-04:00

THE CONSPIRACY ISSUE

I was watching a video where a cat opened a can of Spider-Man beef and tomato pasta from the 90’s. Of course it was inedible, the “prize” which was a macaroni shaped like some kind of action figure, was basically, still there, holding form. Since I did not intend on watching the video, I was not too interested in the details. It reminded me of how when we would have household conversations between my Mom, my older cousin, and me, and we would get into talking points that I did not imagine other (read: white folks) people spent a lot of time having in their homes as lead family conversation. Whilst my cousin would have his train rolling so hard and fast that it would “leave the tracks”, yet always landing, I was of a different mindset.

To me, it is more foolish NOT to believe that there are not secret societies, groups that accumulate power to be used by their own whims, than it is to dismiss the notion out of hand. It has NEVER been a question of whether there was an “Illuminati” for me, but how was I going to exist in “their world”. I have had the “Cypher” (from the film, “The Matrix”) kind of outlook on the whole thing… and I thought that I would play my role until a “Neo” came along and I would throw myself behind THAT cat. But, as it is with most things heroic, that kind of stuff, it may just have come down to me.

Since my “conspiracy genes” predate the internet, I must first tell you that it is like the religious phrase about the devil and his greatest trick-- getting people to believe he never existed. The reason that these secret societies are not being mentioned more, has been that many people are so “plugged in” that they cannot conceive of anything resembling a group “who sits above in shadow”™ that are determining the key aspects of their lives. But it has been that way only since going back to the times of Moses and ‘em. Which brings me back to the “...greatest trick” statement.

The great mass of peoples either do not even care to broach the subject of “conspiracies” (and I am going to use that as a general term for all of the different groups), immediately throwing out the possibility of there actually being the kind of manipulation on a global level by maybe a few hundred people, possibly aliens, for the love of power. It still sounds staggering to me whenever I consider it. But, greater and smarter men than me have spoken about conspiracies and even tried to warn the masses. Going back and starting with President Kennedy, I grew up listening to his and the words of Dwight Eisenhower, Harry Truman, both Roosevelts and even crooked Warren Harding speak on extra-political groups who influenced society. I remember being TAUGHT about how relevant secret societies were in government policy. So, whenever people would dismiss conspiracy theories, I would wonder, “Where the hell were YOU in history class?”

Because of my lack of foresight, I do not have the textbooks of my youth. Neither do I have recordings of my teachers speaking about these things, often (unintentionally veiling them with presentation in their lesson plans) after engaging attentive students with conversation during the lesson and/or after class. But like the devil… I do not think that they were fully aware of depth to their words… or how far the rabbit hole goes.

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The thing that annoys me about Alex Jones is that he could have been so much more than what he is. Meaning that if, IF, warning about the globalist takeover was his priority, he could have reached out to more people, of different color, classes, and political beliefs. But just as The Party does not make martyrs, the system that exists has made Alex Jones a buffoon. A RICH buffoon, but a buffoon nonetheless. His fate, had he stayed true to his intention… eh, DEATH… either literal or metaphorical (such as his present life and impact). The Party does not want martyrs… they want to erase you by making your life meaningless. Alex Jones, the crazy pastors who are encouraging the masses to go to church and tithe (don’t forget to tithe… just drop an envelope into the blessing bucket and drive on!), they are essential, as they are the fist of The Party, concealing The Party’s fist of onyx in a velvet glove of manipulation. Yet, when it comes to taking the word of hucksters seriously…

Who THE F**K do you think JFK is talking about here? Or Dwight D. Eisenhower here?? And these are only two that I know that I can find… FDR, crappy WARREN HARDING, Teddy, among others. The thing about conspiracies that I know and has always made me pay attention to them, is the ease of confirming these historical links. Cause if my lazy a** can easily find and validate a theory, then it no longer becomes “how far the rabbit hole” is going, but what ELSE is inside of it.

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So how deep did I WANT to go down the hole? See, Alex Jones went to Bohemian Grove and he filmed what he saw. That is what really solidified his credibility with the conspiracy crowd. The powers-that-be from the past used their position and prestige to warn the public about the existential threat of power held by secret and subversive groups. Yet, we still sit here, the majority finding some way to dismiss the existence of these people, who are, above the social rules.

Sitting in my sun-dappled apartment, with at least 6 months of rent in my accounts, I feel fortunate to be in a position that I can call “comfortable”. The things that I want, materially, I do not need. Many of the things that I want, through sacrifice, I can get. When it comes to my needs… those are covered as well, and I can still expect the things that I have come to expect. And that is what the Party wants, for people to accept what is what and not to ask questions, and more importantly, not to get OTHERS to ask questions… because if others are asking questions, then they may demand answers. It is this false sense of comfort that has kept me from going “full Morpheus” and being someone who is still connected, not because he does not know that he is connected, but because he does not have the courage to disconnect.

If this left a reader confused… my apologies. But if you take NOTHING from this entry, the question of existential meaning comes with the notion of people controlling the life you lead and the choices you are making, well, yes… the ARE people who meet in cabal and make decisions to do exactly THAT. Maybe while I am on quarantine, I may explore consciousness and what does it mean to have consciousness and that of agency vis-a-vis what that means and do we have it?

CO-PARENTING IN THE TIME OF CORONAVIRUS

2020-04-17T20:13:00.000-04:00

KT,

It is almost midnight and I am not in the least bit sleepy. While anxiety is part of my diagnosis, I wonder if the source of my late night is ACTUALLY one of the emergent conditions of CTBI. I say that because nearly everything that could be a symptom are traits that may not necessarily be singularly identified as such. In fact, I often ignore telling myself that a particular behavior or some kind of mental failing is due to my condition, because f*ck THAT!

Anywho, what I do know is that you have been on my mind for some time. The pandemic has shut down everything… I was so looking forward to watching you walk across the stage! But with things being what they are, I felt that this is a time where I should talk to you about my college experience and the impact that an irregular event had on my LIFE.

See, in ‘92 I was really doing well as an amateur boxer. I won the Carolina Golden Gloves and went to Knoxville, Tennessee to box in the regionals. I was unable to make it through, but I still had a chance to make the Olympic Team by winning the Olympic Trials box-off. This meant I would have to beat up people in Carolina and then I would be on my way to Marquette, Michigan to the next round of qualifying. Even had I not made it through, I would have had a lot of boxing people get to look at me and maybe someone would have tried to set me up as a boxer. Anywho, I had won the first fight that I had and I was confident that I was going to beat up the guy who stood between me and the Carolina berth to the Olympic Trials.

BUT WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS…

Most Olympic Trial competitors are made up of teams and groups around the athlete that makes sure that all the athlete has to do is compete. My experience was not like that. I drove down by myself from Greensboro to Wilmington, had to find my own hotel and figure out how to get around town, to where I needed to go for the boxing match. I did that, and for the first night, I was golden. I met my weight and was able to meet and represent myself in the appropriate meetings. Later, I would beat up the cat for my first fight, and I had advanced to the next round. BUT, as a fighter, I was not allowed to go to the coaches’ meeting, and by not finding out the details for the next day, I was not informed about when the weigh-in for the next night of matches. Missing the weigh-in meant I would not be allowed to continue my Olympic dream.

I had taken spring semester off because this was going to be one of the biggest reaches at the brass ring on the Merry-Go-Round of my life. This, I had told myself, was my “golden ticket”, my chance at a new life, dreams of becoming famous and having a gold medal hung around my neck. At worst, I would be seen by boxing people and might have caught the eye of someone who was looking for a good fighter. But all of those dreams, along with the dreams I did not know that I had, would be altered forever.

So now, in the time of COVID-19, your graduation has been delayed… and I am assuming that you are not sure of what is going to come of your senior year of college. And this is how my experience and your “Graduating In The Time Of Coronavirus” sorta kinda dovetails.

Whatever it is you have going on in your life right now, do NOT lose your focus. Identify the things that you are SURE OF in your life are the things you want to accomplish AT ALL COSTS. I, not only did not do that, but throughout my life, have not been able to do so. If I had your Mom’s talent for focus and goal setting and achievement, then who knows what our lives (because if I was THAT KIND OF GUY, I would have married her, at the very least, stayed in Carolina for the both of you) would have become. But my penchant for distraction and whimsy, eventually brought me to Omaha. I still have that penchant for whimsy (me moving to Georgia… more on that another time) so it is not like where your “maybe” is far from my ability to identify with you. Saying “whimsy” is being kind to myself, because that is not an adjective that one should be using when describing the process that they use to arrange their thoughts, their life. Existence is unkind to indecision. The life that I have led is proof of that.

You do not want to have to live with a question that you should have answered when you first faced it. You do not want to count on being able to continually find another chance to make something of yourself, which is the knowledge that you can gain in only one way… through failure and disappointment. The only reason that I can say this, obviously, is through my life experience. This is the curse of the half-a** ghetto philosopher… having an understanding of “the why” my thoughts have brought me here, and in spite of the life that was foreshadowed, ending up being in this space anyway. That is not what I want for you, to understand and being satisfied with knowing better and never really having done better. You deserve better than that.

I go back to missing my weigh-in and living my life without KNOWING. I do not know what I could have been because of my own actions. Something that I had full control of, a future of unknown positive possibilities, and I blew it. Not missing the shot at the Olympic Team, but taking full responsibility and control of my life. THAT is what I really missed.

See, none of your dreams and hopes are at risk. You can still choose and make the life that you want. You have AGENCY. Stay on course, focus on achieving the things that you want. Make that your prime directive. I do not want you to end up living a life of compromise. You have too much potential, too much ability, to live your life as a “woulda, coulda”. Dream big, reach high, WORK HARD. Get focused… do not worry about the things that do not fit conveniently with your goals and dreams… do not be discouraged when you have to work hard for the things you want (and if those “things” are people, let them go… but that is not this note..!). Keep on the path, make sure you are still on YOUR PATH, and do the most you can to live a fulfilling life.

I love you more than anything I have ever loved in my life. You are so precious and I do not care who knows it! Be careful, do not let people breathe on you and for goodness sake, WASH YOUR FACE AND HANDS! Anti-bacteria stuff does NOT protect you more from the virus… soap BREAKS DOWN AND DESTROYS THE VIRUS. This may or may not be a permanent thing, unless the meeting at the Bohemian Grove decided to--

Love you lots and lots!!

Dad

THE GOAL OF THE PARTY

2020-03-22T01:24:00.000-04:00

VICTORY ON THE AFRICAN FRONT

Someone who can put the seemingly coincidental and totally abstract concepts of what civilization means into words better than I can (not could… heck, quantum mechanics allows me to make the case that since I COULD HAVE then it is possible that I STILL AM THAT PERSON somewhere in reality and that this take on the topic IS the best of all possible takes..!) should be trying to describe what is on my mind. This is also going to be a divergence from my general take on my life and the course I am heading. I think that things have been coming into a sharper focus and I need to get those thoughts down and bring them into reality.

KT has chosen me to be the emotional side of her parental unit. She is comfortable telling me things about her life that I think makes us friends as well as a parent/child unit. But, we have never had the opportunity to live together, so I have always felt a little awkward that I am one of, if not the bestest of her friends. This is a place of honor that I have always cherished but kind of felt guilty about. She has never been around me when I am going through stuff… unlike with her Mom and family in Carolina. Sometimes her emotions are centered on being alone in and with her thoughts. I have wondered if this, along with other things, are traits that she has no model for their identification because she did not grow up with having the other half of the genetic material that created her. She has never seen how I handle things and how my mind takes the illusions that make the reality I live in.

With the virus worry that is gripping the nation, I sort of had a moment this week. My current “partner-in-training” has suggested that I should get an Iphone, so that I can do facetime with KT. She offered to let me use her phone to call and look at my daughter as we spoke and I did just that! But this was on Tuesday, when my anxieties reached their crest height… precisely when I wanted to speak to KT.

One of the things that I have been grateful for is the relationship that we have. It is a real thing, tangible. Yet, never having lived with anyone display the kind of traits that makes her feel isolated, calling her in my state-of-flux, was a touchstone moment for the both of us. I remember how loneliness would creep upon me when I was her age… the biggest difference between us is that I expected what I have encountered (for the most part). Also, by sharing my “moment” with her, I feel it brought us closer, maybe even more than I could imagine.

Some of the factors that made my moment happen is due to how I process the world around me. I am likely the last person to dismiss someone out-of-hand, especially if I cannot be any more definitive about a thing than they are. Yes, there is a corner bookshelf in my mind where I store my “conspiracy paraphernalia”. It is not a lot of stuff, but they tend to have a few things that I believe allows them to cross the “common sense barrier” and enter into the realm of possibility. This, the coronavirus, is one of them.

Look, I get it. The Chinese have weird meat sources… everyone on a continent not named “Antarctica” have humans that eat strange food… and that is because we, humans, are OMNIVORES. To point to another ethnic group and question their diet is small-minded. I have been wondering for years when folks will get theirs from pig’s feet and head cheese. There are SOO MANY WEIRD FOODS in the western diet that leaves no room to talk about the dietary habits of other people in the world, whose diets are based less on convenience and more on sustenance. As I try not to get all Chomsky in here, the profit motive shapes and curates the food that we eat as well as our dietary habits in the States.

So with that as a starter point, it would not be long before I was at the collapse of civilization( or at least what we consider “civilization” to be). I saw (see?) governmental overreach as the low-information voter would be ready to cede their freedoms if they were promised a little bit of help. I also can see where the divide between different social factions would drive the group divide even deeper, and more fractured. And I am going to pause for a personal tangent, one that I hope sets up where I plan to go and get closer to the heart of my anxieties.

It is very easy to dispel people who believe in conspiracy theories. While they seem to defy logic, what many seem to fail to realize is that there are roots strong as the ones that give life to Yggdrasil. And as with really deep roots, one can only wonder how far they run.

First, there is always some truth in some of the conspiracy ideas that people flaut. My Mother would roll her eyes at my cousin and me as we would go on about some (to her) half-baked theory or explanation of a politically-driven motive of the United States. I know that when I was a kid and trying to get into Noam Chomsky among others, combing his work with Orwellian theories about the State, and other futurists who saw how grim things could become, I stopped throwing away the “rantings” that I would hear… because in many of them, a shred of truth was contained, and THAT is where my “what ifs” would begin to trouble me.

Second, like I have mentioned, there is enough “X-Files” truth to some of the ideas that one would be induced to take a closer look down the rabbit hole. You don’t think that the Government would not risk lives to experiment on people that it felt was expendable and the profit motive gave reason enough to do so? The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment was a “thing”. COINTELPRO was a “thing”. And those are a few of the more mainstream crimes that Big Bro--, excuse me, THE GOVERNMENT have committed against citizens, citizens that a shadow group in power deemed unnecessary. So when the “wake up, sheeple” cries are sounded, I have my own vetting process to go through before I consider Alex Jones to be a tool of the very system he is claiming to fight. Sooo….

The highlighted part of this entry is from the linked thread on another blog. Is Evangeline Lily, C-list actress, brilliant? I am not in a position to say so. She sounds like a libertarian from Cheyenne to me. But, in her comments I hear Ben Franklin… and in my bones, I feel the confirmation from being proof of the treachery that “Those Who Sit Above In Shadow” will commit in the name of power and domination. Anywho, I saw what she said and immediately thought of the words of one of the nation’s founders. The thing that I wonder, before people write her off as one of those wacky Hollywood stars, do some due diligence, you know, YOUR JOB AS A REPORTER and find out WHY she feels that way instead of a sensationalized sound bite.

STUART

I cannot begin to grasp how many times I would listen to this song in lieu of a conversation with another person. A good friend of mine from this era would always bring up this “weird song” and say that I was “in search of a Stuart” to share my ravings with. I did not care then, and I care even less than I do now.

At the start of the previous decade, there was the “Great War To End All Wars”, as well as the Great Depressions, to give character to the 20th Century. What is the beginning of this century going to foretell? We race even faster to the more dystopia, a blend between “1984” of Orwell and the “Brave New World” of Huxley. They are simply different sides of the same coin, leaving little to no hope for the great masses of men.

So I formally apologized to KT. I feel like my generation did not do enough to maintain the class freedom for her generation. She is super smart, very beautiful, and sometimes, she even talks as though she has a head on her shoulder and there is something functioning in it! The anxiety in me has been dialed back a bit, and I will get back to building my 5-year plan, and I use that phrase with NO IRONY AT ALL. We are going to be in Georgia, I am going to die with my daughters and near my sisters, and that is what I will focus on. And yes, I am still that, “poor pro black ni**a”

DO NOT SHUT OUT THE LIGHT IF YOU ARE FEARING DARKNESS... DO NOT FEAR THE FALL IF THE ONLY WAY LEFT IS UP

2020-03-14T21:03:00.002-04:00

“Don’t let the darkness from your past block the light of joy in your present. What happened is done. Stop giving time to things which no longer exist, when there is so much joy to be found here and now.” ~Karen Salmansohn https://abbiestreehouse.com/2020/03/07/beware-of-darkness/

One of the truths that I have encountered which most often goes overlooked is the difficulty that one encounters in creating oneself. I, for one, do not think that anyone should have a date in mind when they begin observing the application of new habits that are to coalesce into a new personality, a new character. In fact, by using the dimension of time to create a sense of urgency, does not add anything to the achievement of a goal. I believe that ultimatums only give a person a reason to rebel. The commitment to something overarching changes in character, changes that have embedded in their intentions the that a person has a goal in mind, seems to work out much better. Examples of such would be countries who place a higher priority on fitness for their children. All of the benefits that can be chosen to represent the WHY exercise should be a priority are all part of the HOW, as much as including exercise in school curriculums, is important.

When change is desired, there is no timetable that should be set. The road, the journey, and NOT the destination, is the goal. Constant improvement, along with progress, no matter how incremental, is the target. Much of what makes up “unhappiness” is nothing more than envy and impatience from what is seen through the mediums of television, the internet, or a combination of social confusion brought on by external sources. As long as one is willing to adhere to the constraints that achievement places on the one who seeks to do something great, unhappiness should decrease. Even saying that, “...to do something great…” could be somewhat of an overstatement. Fulfilling the potential that one carries within oneself is the aim… what is great is subject to study and to history, with no effect on the present moment.

One of the reasons that I had forsook journaling when I was younger was the belief that chronicling the miseries of being a teenager would not be beneficial to me. Recalling a conversation I once had in high school on “why didn’t I try to date someone who was into the same things (interests) that I was into”, I remember crafting a reply that contained words that would indicate the lack of desire that I had for a girlfriend who could sit with me and be sad over the Smiths and their mournful music. My teenage years were not going to be revisited with fondness, as the alienation that I felt was due to being born into a generation that would provide the foundation to the multi-cultural society of the present, only served to make me further retreat into myself. It would not be until I found myself in the midst of my floundering relationship with Mookie Dee that I was to find any real use to journaling, as not coincidentally, my lack of journaling when I was with Hello Kitty prolly did not benefit either of us.

YET HERE WE ARE

I have already stated what brings me back to journaling. The clarity that it brings to thinking and life-plans, to say nothing of the social aspect. Having a relatively objective look on how close I am adhering to what I claim to be my aims and the actual course that my actions lead me upon is of incalculable benefit to me, as I WILL NOT be sharing my feelings with anyone who exists in the same temporal location that I occupy! F*ck that… having that as a trait is how I got this far… and while it could have been better, much worse has always been a shadow that motivated me.

Consistency is the key - that is what I put up in the room I shared at my first duty station in Taegu. While that is a nearly 35 year-old self-made motivational phrase, it is timeless as any of the other sayings and phrases of note. At 17, I was sure that even without great talent or being gifted abilities, that if one was merely consistent in their pursuit, that big things were to be had. That is what this era of being will be about… to be tireless in the pursuit of my will, the fruit of my desires. “You are what you repeatedly do.”-Aristotle. This period of my life is really more about going back to the reasoning that led me to Omaha, my acknowledging and responding to the field of energy that reached out and linked me here. To say nothing of simply doing what is best of all choices in situations. Often, it is the choices to do the easier or lesser than that have led me astray, frequently spiraling out of my control, finding me in the position of making what I can of a situation rather than being in a position to continue building towards a goal.

Developing the focus that is necessary to accomplish higher goals is a trait that has been missing in my character. Fearlessly, I have decided to completely change how it is that I view the world. This is necessary, as I do not want to be someone who has to live with a “what if” hanging around his neck. While my dream of being the best “heavyweight of the universe” is not a goal that I can aim for, even while I chased that dream, I cannot believe that it was my ultimate life goal.

Chasing down a dream… survivor bias or not, the pursuit of my destiny is my only obligation.

G - FORCE!

2020-03-05T21:00:00.000-05:00

THE CHANGES KEEP ON COMING

A few months ago, I pissed off one of my dearest online friends. She was upset with me because I made a comment that I fully knew that she would find incendiary. While the question of, “why would you purposely say something that you knew would make someone upset?” is valid, I would have countered, at that time, anywho, with, “That is what I do and who I am.” But the incident and my uncomfortableness with it, that set things in motion came off awkwardly, and the exchange between afterwards felt clumsy. Yet, however awkward, I pressed the issue and I would end up being “unfriended”. The emotion that I felt upon being unfriended, was, for me, strange. It was one that was akin to a loss, much along the impact of saying good-bye to those who were among your graduating class in high school. The point of the matter, my pose of “me being me” and this new sensation caused me to reflect on what was going on. I did offer my apology, sincere and heartfelt, and it would be accepted. But she still isn’t my “friend” and the department in my mind that is in charge of responsibility for my actions accepts the result of my mistake, emotionally, I was left feeling some kind of way about things.

See, the exchange was one that I once had found to be typical of my interactions with people. I had long believed that I was immune to the emotional connections that people make with one another. The kid that I told to, “enjoy your family and friends”, when we left AIT at Christmas when I was in the Army, that moment, defined how I felt towards people. See, I never understood what it was about me that drew people to me. I only know that people are drawn to me, in spite of what I thought the Motor instilled in me, and that people see in me, something that I exude in spite of myself. The exchange with my online friend would set off a cascade of emotions that led to my making decisions and pondering a philosophical paradigm shift, which is why I have not been able to journal. My internal landscape has drastically changed, and I am still sorting out what is what.

First, I had to reflect on my identity. I had to ask myself if the standards that I was using to identify myself were valid and useful to me. Much of who I am was developed when I was teenager, which flies in the face of the Ali quote about “a man who sees the world at 50 as he did at 20, has wasted 30 years of his life.” I understand the truth of these words, but I felt that I was immune to that thinking. Rather, or so it seemed to me, I felt that the world was evolving and that I was already there. From growing up with a gay younger brother, having faced questions of nearly all facets of my character, and not shirking the responsibilities, as well as the contributing traits of my failings as a life partner, I did not think that, socially, seeing the world with a “y’all caught up” attitude was a failing. But pride goeth before the fall, and the exchange that I had with my friend sent me into a period of reflection, one where the question of being the person that I was, was now, on the table. Was I still, “Mark, the much hated”, or was I something else. The pain that I felt for losing the friendship of a person that I have never seen and only know through technological means, said to me that I was now, “someone else”.

I’VE BEEN REBORN SO MANY TIMES…

The persistence of identity is one of the questions that makes the lesson of “The Ship of Theseus” the thought experiment and the philosophical paradox that it is. Are we who we were moments ago, are we who we are now reading these words, or is it the person that is somewhere in a space and time that has yet to come? Hell, the idiosyncratic trait that adopted the header of this section of my entry, who WAS that person as well as the person that he was attempting to describe??

Back in November when I was hoping to be blogging more or less regularly, it was because I could sense a “change of things” coming my way. Nothing particular or dramatic was on the horizon or anything like that, but one thing that I have always been able to trust in was anticipating “when the party was over”. One of the things that I have had to trust since I had my brain injury confirmed, is this sensing when the winds begin to shift in my life. Rather than waiting until something occurred to give the coming change more substance, I chose to act.

It was in the midst of the changes that kept on coming, so fast and hard that I could not process the happenings and journal, I could only let the forces that drew me along, flow and draw me downstream from where I was… and from WHO I was.

Leaving Pinnacle Fitness confirmed for me the uncomfortableness that I had when I fell out with my online friend. It was more or less instantaneous, this feeling that I felt with Babz, that not only was I wrong for offending her, but that I WAS NOT THAT PERSON ANYMORE. I was someone else, and it was a new person that reached out to her and gave a personal apology. The feelings that I have been flowing through me for most of the last year has been my coming to awareness that I was truly becoming a different person, a different Mark. It was something that I experienced as members came back to visit me, a custodian, over the Christmas holiday, as well as the heartfelt goodbyes that came with them. The personal conversations that some of the guests chose to have with me… I mean, what is it about me, some old underachiever who was living on the margins of society, made them feel comfortable sharing the messy details of their own comings and goings? Who did they think that they were talking to??

I wish that coming to this conclusion did not mean losing Babz facebook friendship. Still, change is often spurred by the need to overcome and I was comfortable with the character I had erected for myself. Now, I am uncomfortable with what I have set out for me, and that is a good sign. The hallmark of progress is the risk of failure and reaching beyond the reach failure, and grasping the potential of becoming the person that I intend on being.

I WONDER HOW MUCH LONGER I HAVE BEFORE THE SUN SETS

2020-01-05T17:05:00.001-05:00

In 2018 I was so frustrated with my relationship because it was faltering. Since I had invested a great deal of intellectual capital to maintain my end of it, I attributed what I would call a “lack of focus” in my goals to the differences between my partner and myself. From school, to work, to simply getting about my day, I observed in my being, several neurologic and mental processing issues that are found on most CTE checklists. Because of the stress in my environment at the time I as well as that of our relationship, decided that Kitty and I were not going to make it. I put most of my issues with functioning off to the pressure of being with a person that I was no longer willing to love.

Four months later…

Things have not gotten that much better. I would still grade my functioning as “high”. I don’t think that I look as though I am being challenged by a disability, but Omaha is not a high threat environment (which is not to say that I TREAT as though it is not..!). While I did not think that it would magically make everything better by leaving her, I did think that I had somehow cleared the needed free space on the busted hard drive that is my brain for me to achieve my goals and wants. And I still believe that. But what I believe, whether or not simulation theory is true or not, has nothing to with what I can perceive as reality in a damaged brain. It is more about the reality that I am convinced that I can create, and that includes managing a business designed to help people.

Next is the possibility that I will be moving on from Pinnacle to other pastures. Evolution happens whether we want it to or not, and I am hopeful that my stint as cornerman for an Omaha-area police officer can grow into just that. There is a possibility that this is an opportunity for full-time work and I am already on top of preparing myself by starting my work on a new certification that will qualify me to be a trainer-at-large.

Did I mention that KT is going to graduate in May? I certainly hope so, because I NEVER GET TIRED OF PICTURING IT. What really makes it special is that she is graduating from an HBCU, and while she could have almost literally chosen any school in Carolina, that she chose an HBCU means a lot to me. I reflect upon my initial effort at matriculation, and the “why” behind it. Much like my choice of “civil service”, my decision to go to A&T was made more for philosophical reasons that alone validate my being. I cannot wait to sit with her Mother, waiting for her to walk across that stage… it makes me want, if briefly, for my history to be one where I, too, got my 4-year degree from and HBCU, but it was not to be.

Finally, it DOES feel great to have been a part of Alana’s journey, as she was a part of mine. The both of us were in the Metro, living like we were “Howard The Duck”, though, the both of us WERE NOT like HTD. He was in a world that was part of a multiverse that left him out of place. Speaking for myself, I was in a world that unwittingly or no, I had a part of creating. I began my journey understanding what would be asked of myself if I accepted the challenges that lay before me. Alana was already on her way when our paths crossed. The only thing that I was sure, was that if you were down, we would get to where we were going… and you can see how that has worked out..!

IN THE NEW YEAR

2020-01-03T16:36:00.001-05:00

I don’t find myself being angsty these days. First, making the move to Omaha, a place that had been calling me since before I was even aware of myself, has fit me better than expected. Moments have come and passed, and save for my encounters with automobiles, I have not been found wanting, nor have I been disappointed by my decision. Regularly enough, I have asked myself, “Is this still the place? Do you want to go somewhere else??” Each time, a quick and decisive NO is the reply. This is even with the state of affairs that was my love life… from Nebraska, to Princess, a place holder (well, there were TWO but this isn’t that kind of journal anymore..!) and finally, Kitty.

The deterioration between Kitty and myself was not unforeseen. Having incorporated the philosophy of a fictional psychopath (admittedly, not the BEST of role models... ) to base my objective happiness upon, I felt less guilt and responsibility for the fail than in any relationship previously, which includes the fail of my marriage (which I, ultimately, bear the majority of weight for). The only unknown that is left (you know… WHAT IF she/I had done...) concerning me & Kitty doesn’t merit enough reason to be given words to describe. What IS known is that there was no lack of want on her end. In saying that, she did lack for real world effort in making things work between us. It bothered me because I had voiced what I was looking for and in spite of conversations about my wants and needs, she never gave any indication that she found anything to my desires or meeting my needs. She had what she wanted… a partner that she considered handsome and caring, and that was that. Her lack of adaptation to my wants in a partner was very frustrating. This left me to believe that my desires in a relationship as being unimportant to her. Unfortunately, the desires to which she paid no heed, were pillars to “the why” I chose to be in a relationship with her… and though I went into the relationship aware of the risk (if I was ever to let the risk factor dissuade me from action, I would still be stuck in the hometown of Mookie Dee) ultimately, she proved not be the one for me. There were many positive factors to Kitty, BUT they had no bearing on whether or not I was happy. Not only did she not give me any reason to believe that she valued me being “in” our relationship, she also crossed the “red line areas” that I presented her with at the beginning of our getting together. When the last line was crossed, that was that with that.

We are still Facebook “official”. Also, we are still sharing Netflix and Spotify accounts. The reason why you may ask is this: I don’t want to engender any bad will towards me and my efforts by taking unnecessary risks/actions. My focus is on getting my business going, taking care of advancing in my current profession (whatever that may be), returning to school and making sure my relationship with my sisters continue to grow strong.

KT continues to lean on me for emotional support. I have always known that the two of us have a bond, but our circumstance is not one where I dwell on it, nor do I speak on how much I have impacted her life. But her early adulthood has been one that finds her reaching out to me as her father and my being there for her and her Mom. KT’s Mother and I have always had regular conversations, but as we look forward to her graduation from college, I feel that in a more legitimate way than I even realize, I have played a defining role in our daughter’s life, and it has been for the good of everyone involved in KT’s development. It is just as I have always said (were anyone to come and ask me!), her Mom made up in her mind what she wanted for our daughter… and I only had one thing to ask of my co-parent to assure that she would have what she wanted.

Me and the Twins (my youngest siblings) are friends again. This Christmas could have been spent at a family get-together in Georgia where my Army sis has made her home with her family. My Dad and her Twin, the Twin with her Air Force daughter and husband in tow, all were there. I couldn’t go because of my obligations, but I do plan on finding my way down to Georgia in the coming year. Now, the odd thing about my Army Sister being in Georgia, is that my ex-wife and my oldest daughter, Skye, both have relocated down there as well! I would not mind rattling my ex-wife’s cage because I can, but I am sure I would behave more mature at the eventual crossing of paths. This eventuality is pretty well assured as my oldest has reached out to me and we have established an open line of communication. That has been the biggest reward that 2019 had for me,my twin sister and I are again talking, and that me and Skye have been able to talk and get to know one another.

Finally, I am not sure if I am the only one late to the game, the whole “cancel culture” that we are moving into is kind of intimidating to say the least. First, I did not know that it was a “thing”. See, like with “ghosting”, I thought it was simple human social behavior. Like with ghosting, cancel culture has been around for quite some time. But now it has been weaponized and aims to do harm. Recently, two events made me more distinctly aware of the social phenomenon and they both have left me none the worse for wear… and essentially, I don’t care!

The author JK Rowling drew the ire of the cancel culture because she supported a scientist whose social thinking did not fall into the more enlightened way of thinking about sexual orientation. While I will not detail the incident further than linking to it, I felt that she did what she should have, given her experiences and from the point of view she was looking at the matter at hand. Second, I believe that I HAVE BEEN CANCELED by a person online who I thought of as a friend, in a real, tangible way. While I am sure that I would have found my way around to being where I am now (spiritually), I am also glad that I had encountered the article first.

My apologies for the vagueness of this part of the entry. But it ties up everything in my mind, and that has become crucial over the last couple of years, that I can make sense of the things in my environment, and to prioritize and separate things into my current thought matrix. See, I have not enjoyed the luxury of being a part of a group of influence. I was never “like” as a child, much less well-liked. That never was something I expected, as I saw my worth in objective standards, be it grades in school, dealing with senior NCO’s in the military, or supervisors when gainfully employed. Of all the questions that I have about my life, none of them ever concerned whether or not I was “liked”. That said, this being canacled hurt, hurts in the same way it hurts whenever I have been slighted or ignored because I don’t meet an arbitrary standard of the crowd. Still, as grave diggers the planet over are wont to answer… “I can dig it”whenever there is something to be dug, I can also “dig it”. After all, that is my responsibility.

ANOTHER POST ABOUT RELATIVELY NOTHING

2019-11-06T12:20:00.000-05:00

CHECKING IN WHILST BEING CHECKED OUT It hasn’t been difficult to write. I really haven’t been having any grains of sand in my gearing that I have found worth journaling. The most frustrating thing that has happened in the past few months has been confusion with automatic withdrawals from my checking account. Otherwise, things have gone well, looking forward to the New Year. Not that there aren’t “things” to journal about, but that kind of gossipy, dramatic retelling of what happens when the infinite membranes of realities bump into one another, well, the notion that those collisions are nothing more than the consequences of infinite regression, are the kinds of thoughts I am seeking to eliminate from my thinking.

Tomorrow is the meeting with the management at Pinnacle and a potential coach and partner in my Rock Steady franchise. She has been operating a “bootleg” franchise and wants a legitimate partner to team up with. Hopefully, we will be able to develop a “quid pro quo” and we can each grow from the process!

One of the frustrating things about my injury has been the fickleness of it. The memories that fall out of my processing is extremely random. While I can’t account for the loss of childhood memories (because there is no one to “prime” the thought processing), the thoughts that I encounter from day-to-day socializing, to the thoughts that I have with myself that I will get back to, frustratingly, seem to fall completely off the grid. BUT, all is not lost.

My day-to-day processing is where I think my problem lies. This is not to say that I am not injured, but I do believe that the brain muscle, like any other muscle, has to be worked out. Since I have been away from school, I really have not had to exercise my brain and it has not been getting stronger, as life is starting to fall into a routine. My memory of when I was in school and the contrast to being out of school is what spurred me to this hypothesis. This is not diminishing the effects of my injury, but my decision to move to Omaha was a question of will. Because I “live in my head” so much, being able to control my environment as much as I could reasonably manage was my priority in the stage of my life. In fact, my adaptation to being “alone in Omaha” was based on how I handle and prioritize regimentation. Having an understanding of who I am and the relation between that idea and how people view that projection, is something that I find many people lacking. The challenge that I need lies in the ideas of existence… and the pursuit of those ideas.

KT shared with me that she simply, “loves to learn”. Mind you, she is aware that you don’t really earn a lot of money by getting paid to learn, and she acknowledges as much. But she reminds me of myself, in high school, and my admiration for “Howie”, a character on the Lee Majors television show, “The Fall Guy” and his broad and varied career in academia. Between this “reflection” and her Mother’s begrudging appreciation for her pursuits, spurs the something that I share with my daughter, that want to “know things for knowing’s sake” in me. Part of my goal in moving to Omaha was to make my injury look like the normal degradation of my senses and intellect due to aging.

There is a story idea in my head that I am determined to follow to its end. I have spent the last month searching for the “spur” to this particular idea, but I may have to go on without it. It will come back to me, eventually… of this, I am sure. Just as I am sure that next August will find me in a classroom!