Tag: life

Learnin’ to Walk

Daily writing prompt
How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?
View all responses

I’m one of those people who believe and practice, you must be willing to take risks and face failure if you want to succeed. The classic example is learning to walk: we all must accept trying to take those first steps and risk falling in order to stay upright and put one foot in front of the other to cross a room and get where we want to go.

In my case, I’ve succeeded many times when I’ve tried. My failures have been as a sales person. I’m talking about goin’ door to door. Selling vacuum cleaners. Knife sets. Cookware. Hey, I was desperate to improve our situation and increase our income.

But I learned that I’m not a person who wants to pressure people into buying things like that. First, the products were overpriced. Second, they weren’t the greatest invention in the world, which was basically the line I was to spin. I didn’t believe it, and I didn’t accept it, and I couldn’t say it. I felt like a hypocrite and a fraud when I did.

I later learned, yes, I can sell things. I’m pretty successful at selling ideas. And I’ve sold tangible products, like coronary angioplasty products. But to succeed in that arena, I had to believe in what I was saying. And to believe, I couldn’t ignore my principles.

Understanding grew from those failures and setbacks. I learned: don’t ignore your principles. And I became known as a dependable person, trustworthy, responsible, reliable. I probably would have learned those lessons without my salesman failures but going through it helped me cement my understanding of who I am, who I’m willing to be, and what I will do to make a dollar.

In the end, I believe I’m a better person because of my failures.

0

The Beginning

Daily writing prompt
You’re writing your autobiography. What’s your opening sentence?
View all responses

It was the beginning of the end the moment I was born but before the end was finalized, I was required to travel and seek answers, although I don’t think I ever understood the question.

1

Saturda’s Theme Music

Yesterday, sunshine was uncorked on us. Washing through blue skies, our air temp crested 70 F and lived there for a while. Gorgeous day, right?

Today, it’s 51 F and sunny. But we’re only expecting 63 F. And…rain. Still, pretty springish winter day. ‘Bout average for Ashlandia on Saturda, March 1, 2025.

Yep, a new month has begun. Sixteen percent of 2025 has been experienced. Those expecting a calm after the 2024 elections are probably disappointed. Those working for the Federal government in any capacity are likely stunned. Those hoping for lower inflation are probably too overwhelmed for emotions.

One thing unchanged are the lies that come out of Trump’s mouth. ‘Another lie’: MSNBC’s Nicolle Wallace smacks down Trump and Vance’s latest claims. No matter the subject, he will reliably lie, twist history, and bloviate, a fool who thinks himself a genius. He’s demonstrated these ‘qualities’ throughout his lifetime. Since he first announced his run for POTUS, it has been recorded and documented. And it sill goes on because his cult followers and the GOTP gleefully slurp it up by the spoonful.

Let me turn away from that. Take a coffee break for a while.

The Neurons dragged today’s song out of 2015. It came from a morning compound of wondering and cogitating as I slept-walked through the morning observances related to cleaning, feeding, eating, drinking. Prepping goes with all that. The routines induced a reflective miasma about being younger. Only, I was not the direct object of these thoughts; I was focused on Mom and Dad. Dad is with his third wife. In his nineties, he has issues but she’s younger than him by a decade and tends him well. His situation is solid.

Mom, though, is 89. She lives with her 95 year-old-fiance. It’s an old, three-story house. She falls a lot. Injuries and worries ripple out of each fall. She blames her back for her falls. I blame pride. I blame her refusal to accept her limitations and adjust her activities to their new scope. I understand; I don’t give up my routines. They’re routines because they comfort or reassure, or we enjoy them. These routines address something in our psychological makeup which isn’t easily altered.

The song is by Lukas Graham. As I went through the thought exercise of looking back, gazing forward, and reflecting on now, “7 Years Old” played in my morning mental music stream. The song is about reflections of being different ages and the attitudes and memories of that age prevail. So it was quite apt for my morning mental meandering.

Coffee and a doughnut are trespassing on my taste buds. Don’t know how they got past my defenses. Hope your day rocks in needed good ways. Here we go, in three…two…one…

Cheers

2

Phasing Out

Daily writing prompt
Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.
View all responses

I thought in depth on this. I retired from the military after twenty years. It was surprisingl easy to say good-bye to it. But I’d been ready to leave it for at least a year. The politics and hypocrisy inherent in the organization disgusted me. Also, leaving wasn’t hard because we rotated every two to four years. Little was permanent, thanks to ‘permanent change of station’ orders. I was deployed to theaters around the world, and the missions changed. While controlling nuclear weapons, war planning, and mitigating the effects of disasters were constant, as were the uniforms, the people were not. We were proficient at ending phases and saying good-bye.

That got me to thinking about how it was really about the people. Leaving IBM after fifteen years was like leaving the military: supremely easy. For the final nine years, I worked from home in southern Oregon. My co-workers were mostly voices on the phone. I’d rarely actually met any of them. My niche was small and I typically dealt with the same ten semi-strangers all week. It was boring, although it could be mentally stimulating, but mostly tedious and empty. Projects would arrive with great fanfare. Then the winnowing would begin. Many projects failed to launch. That was the business.

I left home and family when I was seventeen. Mom’s home was riotous with broken marriages and arguments. When I lived with Dad, he was an absent father. I became adept at being independent.

My wife and I have been together for over fifty years. That’s an ongoing phase. I’ve moved around the nation and around the world. Relatively little remained the same for me. Change was a constant phase.

But we usually had cats. They bonded with me more than my wife, with one exception. These cats became my buddies. At one point, I had six living with me. Another four that belonged to neighbors regularly visited. Now all are gone except one, and he’s getting old.

That’s what phase I guess it’s been hardest to let go of. Each fur friend’s death was so deeply felt that I’m weary of feeling it. My wife said the same and has declared, no more cats. I’m willing to accept that for the moment, but it’s the end of a phase, and a very long good-bye.

1

Thurzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I’m pivoting to pop culture and movies today. Cuz Gene Hackman. The death of Mr. Hackman and his wife, Ms Arakawa, makes me long for the details and explanations of what happened to them. The open door, the space heater, the pills, etc. Makes me want to write a novel to explain it but my explanation would go off the rails and Gene Hackman would probably end up as a retired secret agent who used acting as a cover.

I enjoyed his work, though. He made his characters seem real and nuanced. As I read different tributes about Gene Hackman, I encountered a decent story in The Hollywood Reporter that listed Gene Hackman’s ‘ten best scenes’. I don’t disagree with their list. I’m not an expert on films (though I sometimes pretend to be to impress others) but I did enjoy all these movies.

Here’s their list. You can check out their whole story. For me, Gene Hackman’s top three films were Unforgiven, The Conversation, and The French Connection, with The Royal Tennenbaums lucking just outside those three.

In no particular order, The Hollywood Reporter list:

The Birdcage

Unforgiven

The French Connection

Hoosiers

The Conversation

Crimson Tide

The Royal Tennenbaums

The Poseidon Adventure

Superman

Mississippi Burning

I’m thankful that technology will let me continue to enjoy his talents and skills after his departure. RIP, Mr. Hackman and Ms Arakawa.

0

Keep On Keeping On

Daily writing prompt
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
View all responses

Well, the challenge is to keep on keeping on. I get tired and frustrated. Like, “Oh my God, I have to vacuum the floor again? It’s time to take out the trash? I just took out the trash.” I mean, the tedium of these things… The weariness builds and grows…

My wife is with me on this. It seems like she’s washing clothes every other day. There are just two of us living in the house. How in the world do we use so many clothes?

Then there is the irritating, always-asked question: “What should we do for dinner?”

This is truly a song of the first world blues when you’re complaining about what I have to cook to eat. Like, waah.

Which delivers me on the doorstep of the biggest challenges facing me in the next six months. To keep perspective. To remind myself that things like higher gas prices are minor for me but major for others. To remember that my health complaints are minor and not to get too absorbed about who I am and what’s bothering me. Because let me tell you, brothers and sisters, there are many out there with a much worse fucking life than me.

That’s the challenge to keep in mind.

2

A Simple One

Daily writing prompt
What advice would you give to your teenage self?
View all responses

This is a simple prompt to address. It’s simple for me because I’ve thought about it before. I long ago read about, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” So I’ve examined. Looked at what I did wrong. Catalogued my failures and successes. Looked at where and how they could be improved.

Five basic tenets emerged.

  1. Have more confidence.
  2. Pursue more education.
  3. Party less.
  4. Be kinder and more helpful to others.
  5. Have the courage to chase your dreams.

I imagine many people have similar insights into themselves. Fortunately, at 68 years old, I can still pursue these changes for myself. Especially the ‘party less’ aspect. I mean, do you know how much energy it takes to party? I don’t have it at my age.

I’d rather be reading a book.

0

Sunda’s Theme Music

It’s a balmy sprinter day. I thought winter had the upper hand but then sunshine cleared its throat and gave a roar and clouds parted like, WTF was that? A wind has genned up. A winter iciness was embedded in its front end but that wind fell away to a warmer, friendlier fellow.

Today is Sunda, February 23, 2025. I’m in a chillin’ and willin’ mood. My wife seems a little off. I know back pain has been needling her on top of what we endured with the passing of Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and politics like the bullshit SAVE act and other assaults on women’s rights. She answered, “I think I feel a depression coming on.” Sorry to hear that. “What ’bout you?” she asked. “How are you doing?”

“Emotionally coming back up, physically strong, intellectually sharp. But I have had coffee, so….”

57 F outside now, we don’t expect much temperature increase past this. Some clouds sometimes rush past and spit at us. In other words, it’s a variable, sunny, cloudy day with strong winds and a chance of rain in Ashlandia.

I’m off to a late start with this post. I typically get up, go through the dreams, do some meditation, then feed cats and myself and begin writing. Today, I was thinking about politics and went in and wrote a lengthy post first off — after feeding the cat, of course. I mean, I’m not inhumane.

After writing and posting that, I did my leg massages, ate, and now, here I am. I heard “Livin’ on the Edge” by Aerosmith on the radio yesterday. That’s a song for the times, I thought. The Neurons agreed. They kept the 1993 song going in the morning mental music stream. And why not? The song was written in the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Those riots came after people reacted to four white officers being acquitted of using unnecessary force when they severely beat Rodney King. His beating was a trigger point for already existing issues.

The lyrics fit these times:

Tell me what you think about your situation
Complication, aggravation is getting to you, yeah
If Chicken Little tells you that the sky is falling
Even if it wasn’t, would you still come crawling
Back again?
I bet you would, my friend
Again and again and again and again and

[Verse 3]
There’s something right with the world today
And everybody knows it’s wrong
But we can tell ’em no or we could let it go
But I would rather be a hangin’ on

h/t to Genius.com

The line, “If you can judge a wise man by the color of his skin then mister, you’re a better man than I,” was part of a Yardbirds 1965 song, “Mister, You’re a Better Man Than I” by The Yardbirds. I thought I’d post that up here, too, because I like that connection across over almost thirty years of rock and roll.

Coffee has been snuck into me. Here we go, another day. Hope you have a great one, wherever you are. Cheers

4

The Flooded Car Dream

To begin, I found myself in a car that became trapped in a flood and incapacitated. That meant I wasn’t going to make my destination on schedule.

I wasn’t bothered. Getting out of the car — no idea of its make, model, or color — I waded out of flood waters. Two things began working in parallel: I started making arangements for a rental replacement and I worked on understanding my location. With the former, I learned in phone calls that a car was available but wouldn’t be there for several hours. In the matter of location, I found that I was close to my father’s house. I could visit him and his family while waiting for my rental car.

Their home is in the southwestern U.S. in the dream. In real life, Dad lives in Texas but in the dream, I was unclear if it was New Mexico, Arizona, or Texas. With dream magic swiftness, I arrived at Dad’s and was knocking on their door. A family member I didn’t recognize answered the door. They recognized me, introduced themselves in a vague way and let me in. Then I remembered them.

Then, it was visitor time. Cousins on my father’s side were living with him. Two of these cousins have already passed away in real life. The other point is that I’m 5’8″ in real life and the cousins are half a foot plus taller. My dream had these roles reversed. That surprised m and it came to a point that I realized, I’m tall, they’re looking up at me.

Food and drinks were offered and accepted. After I ate, my father’s current wife entered the cosy western room where a fireplace hosted blazing logs. I explained the situation to her and asked her about my father and seeing him. A little distracted, she told me Dad was there and he wanted to see me but he had to do some things first and it would be a little bit later.

My Dad’s wife’s daughter called from open French doors in the rear that there was an animal playing in the water. I moved there to see a young wild cat chasing something through the water. Almost simultaneously, I realized that night was falling, it was pouring rain, that the house was built by an arroyo, and that flash flooding was underway. On the next moment, I saw that there was a much larger wildcat — about the size of an adult cougar — in the water and figured it was mom, and another little one. Those three animals easily moved their powerful bodies through the raging muddy waters. Mom cat noticed us and that’s when the next pair of realizations bolted in: that back door was just feet from the raging waters, and three wild predatory animals were also just feet away. But the animals went on and we backed into the house and eventually closed the door.

More family members briefly visited but all had other things to go do. I ended up alone. I noticed that they had this small, rough shaped wooden table, about the size of a petite coffee table. A piece of art was worked into the table’s top. I thought I’d fix it up as a gift to them so I took it to a small shop I located on the property and cleaned the top until some western piece of cowboys with lassos in iron and style was revealed.

After polishing it up, I returned to the house. Dad’s wife met me. I showed her and others the table. They were really pleased. None had noticed the top. The piece was a family heirloom and they were told it was priceless but they didn’t know anything about the art.

My rental car had been delivered and I needed to leave. It was night and Dad hadn’t shown. I left and went to the car. Once I reached, I laughed: I was still carrying the table in one hand. Going back to the house, I saw several of them through the window. The lights were on inside. They looked right at me. I realized that they couldn’t see me because of the lights and reflections, so I just went in, showed them the table, joked about almost leaving with it, and then left again.

Boom! I still had the table. I realized this in a few steps and hastily rushed back in, set the table down, and left the house. The dream ended as I reversed the rental car, turned it around, and drove into the night.

0

Fridaz’s Theme Music

So we chug into Fridaz, Feb. 21, 2025. Blue sky has it over my views of Ashlandia. Plentiful sunshine pelts the scene with rays. It’s 32 F with mid 50s likely, ‘they’ say.

All that is my perspective. Per habit, I inquire of the weather for us from Alexa. It says it’s 40 degrees. Tells me about the fog. ? Says it’ll be mostly cloudy today.

What we have here is some kind of failure of something. Maybe it’s in a different reality; perhaps I am. Or Alexa landed in a different Ashland. There’s a bunch of ’em in America. Or…since she’s Amazon…and Jeff Bezos…and he’s getting along so well with Trusk…Alexa is trying to gaslight me. Ah, such possibilities to contemplate on a Fridaz morning.

Oatmeal with blueberries are being consumed. A Chicago song is going through my morning mental music stream. “You’re My Inspiration.” You know the words:

You’re the meaning in my life
You’re the inspiration
You bring feeling to my life
You’re the inspiration
Wanna have you near me

h/t to Genius.com

I figure The Neurons are calculating and channeling emotions about Tucker’s passing. Seems logical, right? But, The Neurons are not always logical. Then again, neither are emotions. Hell, neither is life.

The music certainly didn’t come from my dreams. They were trippy. I’ll almost certainly write a post about one of them later. It’s ‘almost certainly’ because it’s a busy day planned. So, it’s a time permitting thing. Then again, there’s not a general call for more of my dreams, nor is there a time limit. It’s not like someone sent me memo, “Post about a dream by Fridaz.” If they did, I didn’t receive the memo. I guess I should check my spam and junk mail, see if it didn’t get ditched there.

Coffee and I are doing the morning tango. Hope you have a solid day, and things begin looking and getting better for all of us. Here’s the 1984 music, fresh out of a recording made in 1992. Papi the ginger blade (aka Meep, Butter Butt) has arrived for his morning cuddle session. Gotta go. Cheers

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑