Archives for June 2017

The Doctor Of Destiny

Long ago I told someone I c0uld be their doctor of destiny and asked them to trust their heart with me.

I said we could exchange keys, they would have one for mine and I would have one for theirs and together we could heal what was broken.

We managed to do so more than once and in multiple places which made me believe we had an innate ability to do so for each other, forever.

That might like silly puppy love stuff, the kind you limit to high school romance but I have come to believe there is truth to it.

All it takes is one moment and suddenly you remember what you forgot.

The Joy Of Stat Checkers

It would be childish, rude and obnoxious to say the frog in the picture above looks like the nosy dope who has chosen to spend time hanging out here.

Granted you don’t require an invitation to come by but there are some who are welcome and some who are…less welcome.

That is why stat checkers can be beautiful things because you get to see who comes to visit and learn a little bit about them because they always leave digital footprints behind.

Little crumbs of information to let you know that the crumb hasn’t found what they are looking for or that they really enjoy your writing and are hanging out.

Sometimes what you find is a guy who is desperately trying to impress a woman he has no chance at being with and hasn’t realized she isn’t flirting. She is just being nice.

Trump voters. Go figure.

Anger Leads To The Dark Side

Old Master Yoda is right about anger leading to the dark side and mine is pretty damn dark, which is why I typically am pretty damn patient.

That is not to say I don’t get angry because I do. It just takes a while to get me there, but once I am…forget it.

Nuclear is the word.

Anyhoo, when I find myself engaged with certain people I do more than listen to the wisdom of Marcus Aurelius.

I go the wisdom of my people and let the great Groucho remind me who it is I am dealing with.

Other Interesting Things Stat Checkers Find


Can’t forget the time a Patriot lover came to visit because he had to see the whole truth about the deflator and the rest of those cheating fools.

As you can see, he spent close to 2 hours hanging out here.

If I had more time I’d dig up the visit from the US Senate and a bunch of other interesting information such as the email and office addresses that came along with it.

Yeah, Stat Checkers are fun.

Queens And Shmatas

Sometimes you find yourself in the odd position of not talking to someone you have spent a lot of time talking to and with.

The funny thing about it is that sometimes the lack of talk gives you a hell of a lot of time to communicate in all sorts of other ways.

So while you pretend not to talk or see each other you know that someone is working very hard to pay attention to you while they ignore you.

It is kind of exhausting but since I am guilty of it too I can’t really point my finger.

I always liked that one but I am partial to some others too.

I figure there is some truth to that one and to:

Can’t forget this one either:

Of course aching window panes and doors aren’t always so comfortable. Sometimes you have to do things a little bit differently.

When you close your eyes you have to recognize who and what you see looking back at you.

Sometimes it is as simple as saying when you think of me I am thinking of you.

And sometimes it is not that simple.

So you say fuck it and do what you need to do, whatever the hell that means.

Scratch that, it means if you call yourself an artist you can act crazy and tortured because it helps with your art.

That is why I love heartbreak, taught me a lot about writing and communicating.

Or pretending not to. 🙂

Buckle Up, Things Are Getting Bumpy

That one hand holding the rope isn’t really mine, but it could be.

Not just because some people say I have a grip a gorilla would be jealous of but because I haven’t got a choice.

I either hold on and do my best not to let my arm be torn off at the shoulder or lie down and cry.

That is what happens when you make big changes and the universe tests you.

It is what happens when you get caught between a hurricane and a tornado and can’t run for shelter.

You hold on.

Can’t Start Over

Can’t start over and can’t yell at those who disappoint me.

Can’t go back, can only go forwards.

Can’t ignore my anger and frustration. Can acknowledge it and try to let it run its course without letting it run me.

Would like to let go and scream, storm and stomp around but can’t do it.

One minute, one hour, one day at a time.

There is a port to be found.

The Write Thing To Do For Bloggers

Very few of you have ever met me so you’ll have to take my word that shopping for clothes has always been a chore because of my size.

At 48 there is no hiding that I have filled out a little bit but you wouldn’t look at me and say that I am a giant fat man.

Nor would you say I am the tallest/shortest person you have ever met or seen.

No, you’d say I am broad and if you use a little imagination it would be easy to understand how once upon a time my shoulders made it impossible for me to buy shirts and suits that absolutely had to be altered.

Did I mention that my feet are wide? I wear a 12, triple E.

Even though I may have filled out a bit, right off the rack is still a challenge and part of why shopping is a process.

I rarely feel like my clothes fit the way I really want them to.

The Write Thing To Do For Bloggers

Sometimes blogging reminds me of clothes shopping.

There are no lack of ideas, sizes, colors and options but I wrestle with which ones I really like and can’t always get comfortable with the words I wrap around myself.

That is because I can’t write with the sort of reckless abandon and freedom I want to.

Well, I could but there are consequences there that I am not sure I want to deal with.

For example I don’t write about my kids the way I used to because they’re teens and I don’t want to create a situation that embarrasses them.

They and their friends Google each other and I don’t want to be the reason they get teased or messed with.

Sort of reminds me of an old suit I held onto. It is in good shape and it is one I loved wearing, always felt great and it brought me luck.

Well, I can’t get the pants to zip and the jacket sort of fits…sort of.

So I either have to force it or make some changes.

Drop some weight and I can get back in or give it away and move on.

Let’s say I get back into it, will I still feel the same way about it? Will I still love it and think it brings me luck?

Maybe, or maybe it is better not to try and turn back the clock that way.

Maybe it is just better to accept the change, but still work on getting into better shape because that provides other important benefits.


That Virginia Woolf quote makes a lot of sense to me as all of my experiences inform my writing.

Hell, friends and family who read my material often ask me if a particular post or story is about them or something we did together.

Technically I can write about anything and everything that I have experienced and so there have been times that I have done that.

But the older my kids get and the more I see people Googling each other the more cautious I become about some of it.

Because it impacts others.

So the question I find myself asking is where are those lines.

If I tell you about the time a bear interrupted my girlfriend and I (true story) do I need to worry about her getting upset?

It is almost 30 years ago and as far as I know she has never read a thing I have written. I haven’t used her name and I use a pen name here so it is probably fine.

But the stuff with the kids, well that is different and that is going to be something more recent.

Lines are blurry in some places and clear in others.

Sometimes the words fit just fine and sometimes, not so much.

Things I Could Write About

Some of you ask why I dance around topics and wonder if I’ll do more than dip my toe.

I refer back to blurry lines and privacy as reasons why I don’t go deeper.

It is intentional.

And it is because I am concerned that I won’t provide the depth, feeling, clarity and nuance in my words that I want them to have.

It is because some conversations really need to happen in person and then maybe the words can be written because there is less opportunity for misunderstanding, but it is not a given.

The only given for me is that sometimes we are connected to and with others and it doesn’t matter whether we want to be or not.

The ties that bind keep us tethered and it is up to us to decide whether those tethers are metal chains or a soft feather like substance.