Walking Where Men Fear To Tread
Midnight approaches and I am accompanied by the dog and Ray Charles singing “Come Back Baby.”
Tomorrow morning I will check back in with family and friends who are being pounded by Sandy and hope they remain safe and dry.
It is surreal to be here in LA where the temperatures are in pushing towards ranges most often associated with Summer while elsewhere people are bundled up in winter clothing.
Women Rule Social Media
One of the guys I play ball with just found out I am a blogger. He thinks it is funny to ask if I am a mommy blogger and wonders if I know that women rule social media.
I smile and tell him that I am not the guy who got a vasectomy. His grin disappears and he walks away.
It is common knowledge that his wife forced him to get clipped and I am tired of his antics. I don’t need to engage in pissing contests and have little to no interest in the silly verbal sparring he wants to engage in.
Not to mention I am well aware of my cranky state and know trouble is coming. Most of the time I am a happy curmudgeon, but not tonight.
My knees and back hurt and I am concerned that the miles of wear and tear are catching up with me.
I Am Not Old
The comment about mileage isn’t a euphemism for a hard life of drugs and drinking. It is an acknowledgement of how I played sports.
I have spent decades playing hard. Haven’t had the talent to keep up with some of the guys but I made up for it in will and desire. I did the dirty work and spent time doing stuff that many didn’t want to do.
That is why some of the guys let me play with them. They were far more talented and normally wouldn’t pick me, but I made them want to because I played hard.
I keep repeating that because it is how I cope with not being able to play as I once did. It is not easy to accept and that is why I bring it up often, but sooner or later I’ll let go of the part that fights and adjust.
Rolling With The Changes
I am still rolling with the changes because it is how things go and there are no other options.
The blog is having issues. I noticed last night that when I tried to create a new post I couldn’t add pictures and the HTML editor was gone. It appears Jetpack is having issues. When I deactivate it the problems seem to disappear.
That irks me. It is one of my favorite plugins. Have to do more checking.
Ray Charles and Dad Bloggers
Ray has moved on to “You Don’t Know Me”, “It Should Have Been Me” and a dozen other songs I never tire of listening to.
Been a fan of Ray’s for more than 25 years but some of my most prominent memories come from my first apartment, a turntable and a bottle of Scotch.
I’d come home from work, turn on Ray and grab a drink. It was me, Ray and Johnny Walker standing on the balcony watching the sunset. Most nights I wouldn’t have more than that one drink, but every now and then there were…more.
Occasionally I’d wake up in the big stuffed chair I inherited from my grandparents and wonder why hangovers hurt so damn much.
Somewhere in the midst of all this came a girl who listened to Ray with me and would lie in bed listening to me talk about dreams for the future.
I remember listening to her talk about the future she wanted felt like this very wise, very old man.
Now I look back and laugh at the very young, very naive man I was.
Who I Was, Who I Am, Who I Will Become
Ray was there back in the days I refer to as who I was and he is here now in the time I call who I am. It is safe to say he’ll still be hanging out with me when I who I will become show up.
I feel like I have lived a thousand lives. Don’t know if everyone feels this way or if it is the province of writers, just that I feel this way.
Maybe it is because people have told me that if we had met at a different time or different place we might have done things together. Maybe it is because I see stories in my head and hear their whispers in my mind.
There is much joy in this journey and confidence that I am on my way to where I am going. Can’t ask for more than that and a request for health and wealth for my family and friends.
And that my friends is Just Write.