Is There a Wrong Way to Rub Me?

'It is hard to believe that a man is telling the truth when you know that you would lie if you were in his place.'  ~Henry Louis Mencken, A Little Book in C Major, 1916

The Space Between
Our wicked lies
Is where we hope to keep safe from pain

Dave Matthews Band

Question.....Is honesty the best policy? Is it better to lie in some situations? Why can telling someone the hard, cold truth sometime....often times.....rub them the wrong way?

The answers I think must be derived on a case by case basis. Here's the way I look at it. I have two very good friends who for all intents and purposes tell you the truth. They don't seem to care if it is going to hurt any one's feelings, or come across as mean. Frankly I find this to be very refreshing. You always know where you stand with them. You know for a fact that when your with them, there is no way your zipper is down or there's food in your teeth. They would have told you by now. Bad haircut...they will let you know. Does my butt look fat in these jeans? Butt of course. You never have to wonder if you look like or are acting like an idiot, because they will tell you up front and right to you face. 'Yes, Steve, you are being an idiot, so knock it off, and while your at it zip up your pants, wipe the snot off your nose, and get that green thing out of your teeth.'

Some people may get annoyed by such honesty, but I find it so refreshing. I really like hanging out with these two friends. Up front, straight forward, and no wishy washy, spare my feelings crap that you might usually get in social situations. So the question is, 'Is honesty always the best policy?' Things are probably not this black and white, but suppose they were. Would you have a different set of friends if they told you exactly what they thought all the time? Would you be irritated and frustrated all the time but such disregard for one's feelings. I don't think so. I think it is so much easier to better oneself when we know what are faults may be. Don't get me wrong, my friends are not honest in a mean way. They just tell you the truth. All the time. They like me for who I am with all my faults and I feel the same about them. We know exactly where we stand with each other. For better or worse.

Trying to tell the truth all the time gets a little more difficult when you get serious about it. Do you tell your boss when you screwed up? That might work once in a while, but I think keeping it to yourself may have better consequences in the long term. Are things left unsaid lies in themselves? Is the act of omission a failure to be completely honest or is it just sparing someone the details that they don't need to know about? Should you keep the truth from someone when there is no way that it would benefit them in any way? What if the truth would only hurt them?

These fickle, fuddled words confuse me
Like 'Will it rain today?'
Waste the hours with talking, talking
These twisted games we're playing

We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What wild-eyed beast you be
The Space Between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain

I think honesty is the best policy, but I also think we need to be careful not to alienate and rub people the wrong way. There is a right and wrong way to tell the truth. Telling wicked lies to keep someone safe from pain will only come back to haunt you. Telling the hard cold truth is much like walking on thin ice. (Also hard and cold) One must tread lightly. Carefully. But wouldn't you rather know the truth so you can deal with whatever it is instead of being in the dark? What if your doctor wanted to spare your feelings? Delay treatment because they didn't want to tell you how bad it really was. Not a good plan. Life is much the same. Filled with painful truths that we must confront and act on.

Let me know your feelings loyal readers. I am curious. I tried to find a conclusion to the blog so I could wrap it up and move on, but I couldn't seem to come up with a hook, so it has sat for a long time. Sorry.......


I have a higher and grander standard of principle than George Washington. He could not lie; I can, but I won t.
Mark Twain

Standing Room Only

    I love the theater. I have always loved the theater. I was part of the theater community in my youth and now I am a patron of Starlight Theater. For those of you who don't know, Starlight Theater is an outdoor theater in Kansas City. They bring some of the best, traveling, Broadway Shows to our city. I have season tickets and have purchased them for many years. This all sounds great, but why in the world would I feel I need to blog about it. Well, reader, let me paint the picture for you.
     Every November I receive a notice that it is time to renew my season tickets for the next year. My brother-in-law and I purchase them at this time and actually give them to each other for Christmas. Some time in May the actual tickets arrive in my mailbox. Included with the tickets is a parking pass for the reserve parking. The parking pass says that the gates open at six o'clock. Close examination of the tickets reveals that the show begins at 8 pm. Not a shock to me because the shows always begin at 8pm.
     I know this is not very interesting, but I am getting to the point. Five shows into the six show season I am still asking myself the same question. How is it when you know when the gates open, and you know when the show starts, can you always arrive after the show has begun? I can understand a few people arriving late. Things happen. I get it. We are talking, probably fifty to seventy five people each show.
     At 8 o'clock when the show is scheduled to begin, the General manager of Starlight comes out and talks for a moment about the show, upcoming shows, and does a drawing for a prize. Then the orchestra plays the overture for a while before the production begins. The show starts at about ten minutes after 8. People are still filing in at this point. They don't even do the half duck where they feel bad that they are in your way. They just shuffle along to their seat like they are right on time.
     Maybe it is just me, but come on. Read you ticket. It says 8pm. Get your butt into your seat by 8pm. Why should the rest of us have to deal with your lack of clock management skills.  It irritates me so much that I have a hard time keeping myself from going up to them and asking them what the problem is. I paid a lot of money to see these shows. I get there on time and get to my seat. I understand if you are a doctor and the surgery ran long, but looking at the majority of these people I can safely say they are not surgeons. Maybe you could just leave the house fifteen to twenty minutes earlier and same me a lot of grief.
     I want to solicit responses from my dear readers to see if it is just me who makes too much of things or if these people need a good talking to from their mothers on punctuality and common courtesy. Tell me what you think.
     Not the most interesting, I understand, but it is just something that has been bothering me. Bear with my rants, readers, its all part of the process. Get it out before it weighs me down.



     Time is the coin of your life.  It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent.  Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.  ~Carl Sandburg

Head Cheese, Heart Strings, and Kidney Stones.

     Thursday it finally happened. A long week finally came to an end with the passage of my 20th kidney stone. For those of you who have never experienced the pain involved in the passage of a stone, all I can tell you is that it is often compared to childbirth. Childbirth that can last a week or more. This got me to thinking about pain and how I deal, or sometimes don't deal with it.

     Pain varies greatly in severity and type. Since this blog is an exercise for me and my brain, I am going to walk you through my pains. They may seem trivial to some who have experienced great pains in their life, but please do not take offense. I know we all experience many forms of pain and each of our brains react differently. What to some may seem like a 10 on that silly smiley face scale at the doctors office, may only be a five on someone else's scale.

 Not a very good tool, if you ask me. Also pain is very relative. The first time you slam your hand in the door it may seem as if your fingers will fall off, but by the third or fourth time most of the pain may come from the fact your a fool for doing the same foolish thing again and again. So, dear reader, lets take a trip down my memory lane of pain.

     To date, I have had one broken bone and enough stitches to make a sweater. I broke my arm when I was younger and all I can remember is skateboarding, crashing, blacking out and waking up inside. I don't remember the pain much so I can't speak directly to it. I do remember many of my open wounds that required stitches. Usually they only hurt for a minute and then the pain subsided. Not very high on the pain scale.
     Not until I had my first kidney stone had I experienced real pain. Your first kidney stone is a unique experience. I felt for sure that I was dying. The pain so intense that you can hardly focus. At some point it hurt so much that I began vomiting. My wife and I headed for the emergency room immediately. I thought this was it. Some strange entity had taken oven my body and I was experiencing (The big one). The emergency room staff seemed much less alarmed at my condition. After vomiting into the trash can I was asked to provide a specimen for the nurse. Well if the pain didn't have me freaked out at this point then the sight of urinating something akin to tomato juice surely did. The nurse's suspicions were confirmed. Kidney stone. I wasn't dying, but that still left the pain to deal with. A couple shots or morphine later I was good to go. I am not advocating drugs, but they were fantastic in the face of such pain.
     Now after 20 stones, I can tell you it gets easier. My latest stone was one of the biggest and I think I handled it pretty well. It's all how you perceive the pain. Since I know what is causing it I can wrap my head around it. It is just a signal from the nerves in my kidney to my brain that something is wrong. That is it. Just a neural system of checks and balances. Meditation (and some painkillers) make it very manageable. Up until about a year ago I still felt this was the worse pain I could experience. I was wrong.
    I have a couple of blown discs in my back that cause me a lot of trouble. No where close to kidney stone pain, but pretty bad. I went in for a routine Myelogram. A myelogram is an x-ray test in which dye is injected directly into your spinal canal to help show places where the vertebrae in your back may be pinching the spinal cord. One complication of this procedure is that cerebral spinal fluid may leak out. It is a clear, colorless fluid, that occupies the  sub arachnoid space and the ventricular system around and inside the brain and spinal cord. In essence, the brain "floats" in it. When balance is lost in your head you develop what is known as a spinal headache. I have to tell you, this was 10 to the power of 10 smiley faces worse than the worst kidney stone. My mother rushed me to the closest emergency room. They then took me on an ambulance ride to another hospital. For two days I endured the worst headache imaginable. I laid in bed hooked up to a morphine drip with a blanket over my head to block out the light for about 48 hours. I couldn't wrap my head around this type of pain because I couldn't think. I couldn't function at all. Eventually it started to get better and I got to leave the hospital. So that is my 9 on the smiley face scale. Now my 10.

    I had taught myself to deal with most pain. How to cope. How to rationalize what I was feeling in order to make in manageable in my head, then the unimaginable happened. I lost a dear friend early this year. The pain was something I had not experienced before. I didn't know where to go with it to make it make sense so I could deal with it. The pain was not in my head, but in my heart. How do you cope with that when there is no way to come up with a solution to manage it. I was in disbelief. This was a person who I spoke to every day about the ordinary stuff. You know, the one person you have outside your family that you tell all you stuff to. If one of my kids did something I thought was great, this was who I told. If I was down about something, this was the person that I bounced ideas off of to make myself feel better. We talked just between us for about a half hour each day. Then, all of a sudden, it was over. I didn't have that outside person to talk to anymore. It was just nice to talk with someone about whatever that has different experiences than you. See what they think. I don't have that anymore, and it gives me a great pain in my heart.

     I'm still about a seven on the pain scale, but I am learning to cope with this as well. All injuries seem to heal over time whether they are in your head, kidneys or heart. Some just seem to take a little longer. So with a saddened heart I thank you dear readers for reading. Next one, I hope, is a little cheerier.

Steve

Pride, Self Confidence and Respect

     A few small things I wish to put out there this week to get some reactions. A number of things have bothered me so much this week that I have to get some feedback to see if I am over reacting or if I am right in being upset.

     On Friday July 8th, the Space Shuttle took to the sky for the last time. A great moment for the United States. Our space program has always been the shining star of our country. During the sixties it brought America together when we needed a resurgence of patriotism. The Mercury, Gemini, Apollo, and Space Shuttle programs have led to most of the technological advances we now enjoy. Along came the eighties, nineties, and 2000s. We have begun to look at trips into space as routine. Haul up a piece of the space station, drop off a satellite, do some experiments. Launches of the shuttle were no longer televised after the Challenger disaster. You rarely heard what each mission was about. Well this last Friday I was looking forward to a change in television policy. Certainly there would be wall to wall coverage of the last flight of the Space Shuttle. We surfed channels at work for hours prior to the launch. Finally we settled on the feed from the NASA Channel on our computers. Within a half hour of the launch the local stations were still showing The Price is Right, Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader, Jerry Springer, Nate Berkus, and The Peoples Court. Really? The NASA feed was great. Watching the astronauts getting ready. Watching the mission crew batten down the hatches and preparing for the launch. Every kid I know would have thought the was the coolest. They should have showed this in every school in America. But alas, the networks dropped the ball. They preempted their shows for about fifteen minutes, tops, to show the actual launch. That's it. Fifteen minutes for the last trip into space for our country for possibly a long time. Shame on you networks. I bet when Richard Branson finally gets his vehicle going and takes a trip into space they will cover it. So for now I guess as Americans we will have to be content to be fourth in the space race. We can go back to convincing ourselves that we are indeed smarter than 5th graders, watching Jerry Springer, and hope that our kids grow up to be not astronauts, but game show and talk show hosts. Their getting all the TV time anyway.
    Gripe number two.....We have a company next door to us a work. They handle all the screening at the airport. Body scans, x-rays, pat downs. You know the drill. Well, as you can imagine the turnover is quite large. Because of this, they interview new applicants quite often. This last week they had many new applicants come up to interview. They can't seem to find the correct office ever, so they come talk to me. At least four people this last week showed up to interview in shorts and flip flops. One person was wearing a t-shirt with cut off neck and sleeves.(a woman mind you) The fourth woman had clearly not even combed her hair that day. She was carrying a baby in a car seat and had two other children in tow. I don't know her circumstances and I am not here to judge. She is probably trying very hard and doing her best. My only problem with these people is that they obviously failed to realize this was a job interview. Dress for success, they say. Put in a little effort. This isn't a hard job to get, unless your content on sabotaging yourself. T-shits? Flip-flops? What job are you applying for? Used paint salesman? (It comes in the shape of a house, by the way)
     Gripe number three.....I was at the Great Plains Balloon fest on Friday to see a bunch of hot air balloons take off. I got there pretty early because I wanted to hear an 80s cover band that was performing before the launch. (They were not very good. How bad to you have to be to make a Bangles song sound worse than the original?) The balloons were launching from a large grassy field. I got out the quick and put my blanket down. There were a few hundred people out there at the time. People in folding chairs in the back and people on blankets out front. I put my blanket pretty close to the action so I could be in the front row when the crowd filled in. I grabbed some food, put in my headphones and laid on my blanket until the action started. About 10 minuted before the balloons were set to fill up, a family of six starts setting up their chairs right in front of me. Remember I am on a blanket on the ground. hey formed this solid semicircle directly in front of me so I could see nothing. One of the best things about a balloon launch is watching them inflate. I couldn't see any of this. There were many places they could have set up, But since I was front row center I guess I was a prime target. Are people so self involved that they care nothing about anyone else. What would go through someones mind that would make them think that I wouldn't want to see anyway so they might as well set up there. To top it all off, they didn't seem to care about the balloons either. It was just a social event that they probably got free tickets for.
     So two launches last week and they both pissed me off. It's ironic that I had trouble seeing them both, and by no fault of my own.
     So, to sum it up Jerry Springer style. Have pride in you country. Have pride in yourself and respect you fellow man. So basically, Love and Rockets!
Steve........................

Quest for Nerdness

     Oh, to be a nerd. If only I could. It seems like only yesterday that being a nerd was a bad thing, but I have always been jealous of the nerd type. Really it is true. I have always had friends that are very intelligent and very obsessed with one thing, and isn't that what we consider a nerd. The socially awkward guy who knows everything there is to know about computers. The people who could tell you everything there is to know about comics. Any serious comic book collector can tell you that the world’s most expensive comic book is DC’s Action Comics #1 (1938). (I did not know this, I had to look it up.) There are also nerds out there who fit into the category but don't come across as a nerd because their obsession lies outside of the "nerd" culture.
     My problem is, I don't fit into any of this and I am jealous and I will tell you why. I don't have any obsessions. Is this a bad thing? I'm not sure. Time to dig deeper. Let's start by looking at my interests (lackluster at best.)
     I am a Star Wars fan. I am not a Star Wars nerd. I collect bobble heads from the movies, but I couldn't score fifty percent on a Star Wars quiz. I don't have the obsession gene. I have friends who could tell you everything there is to know about the Star Wars Universe, The complete Star Trek Anthology, the entire world of Lord of the Rings. Not me. I'm just not passionate enough. Not a movie nerd, I guess. Plus, my favorite movie is Good Will Hunting. A movie about a math nerd. Nope, I'm not one of those either.
    Comic book nerd? Not even close. I have numerous superhero t-shirts and bobble heads. Too many, if you ask the wonder woman who does my laundry. No obsession here either. I have never even owned a comic book. I couldn't tell you a Marvel character from a DC hero if I had too. Avengers? Justice League? X-Men? I am clueless. I like the characters, I like the shirts, that's about it. Just a nerd wanna-be.
    Computers? Video games? MMORPGs? Who has the time? All of these things are the classic obsessions that we associate with the nerd. I can't get crazy about any of it. I like it all. I don't need any of it. I think I need something more important or fulfilling to become passionate about. So lets take a look at my true interests.
     I enjoy reading. I would love to have the time to sit in a quiet place and read the day away. The problem is, I can't seem to squeeze in more than a minute or two here and there. Tough to be a bookworm on five minutes a day. No passion, no obsession, no fulfillment.
     Can you be a cooking nerd? Can you become so passionate about something that you become obsessed with it? It's hard to categorize a passionate cook as a nerd. Bobby Flay is no nerd. Kind of a dork, but not really a nerd. I would love to cook for people all of the time. Create exciting new dishes the amaze and delight my friends and family, but it is way too time consuming, not to mention expensive. It's hard when you want to make something new and different and all you kids want is chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. So, I guess I will have to stick with creative cooking just once in a while. Cooking mac and cheese is an obsession killer right there. Hard to be passionate about Kraft.
     I love to sail. Love the wind in my face. Man in tune with nature. No motors. Just me and the wind. It doesn't get much better. So what's the problem nerd boy? It takes too much time. Time to get there there. Time to unload and set up. Time to break down and reload. It basically takes a whole day to get out on the lake and enjoy a few hours. Sailing nerd, I am not. Just a hobby, not an obsession. I am not part of any sailing community, I receive no newsletters, magazines, or attend any meetings. I am not part of any clubs and I don't attend any races. Just me and my boat. That's it. So where do we go from here dear readers?
     Is it unhealthy to not be passionate about anything? It seems that others have one thing that they do very well, are focused on and have become very good at. Is it more fulfilling to have one thing that your very interested in or wide range of things that you enjoy and do well, but is without the passion? I have been referred to as a Renaissance man (There's your plug Shannon) but aren't the Renaissance guys really good at only one thing? (Painting, Sculpture, Math, Astronomy) I guess I'll take what I got and embrace it. The all around cover guy. Good at a lot of things, not an expert in any one thing. The guy you want on the island with you. (Another plug Shannon) I can catch the fish, clean the fish, and cook the fish (lightly seared with a lemon butter sauce.) I can build the hut. Not the Taj Majal, but liveable. Build the boat, sail the boat, and get your butt rescued. I guess that's not too bad.
    On a side note, I was looking back over the characters that I enjoy watching on TV and movies. I wonder if anyone else finds this to be true. I watch shows with nerds. Really smart people that have a knack for one thing in particular. House, with its brilliant but messed up doctor. Bones with the genius forensic anthropologist. The Mentalist, which is self explanatory. And of course the movie I mentioned before, Good Will Hunting with dreamy Matt Damon as messed up Math genius.What does that say about me? What do you favorite things say about you? Just food for thought with a side of rosemary potatoes and an asparagus and prosciutto salad. Enjoy.

Peacocks and Neural Pathways

     Much has been discussed about the use of Earth's resources for our own personal gain and amusement. We use way too much of the Earth's gifts for things that we don't really need. It wasn't always this way, though. In the past we used the abundance of resources in order to survive. We took trees and animals to live. We took just enough to provide for our families or tribes or whatever. We killed animals to eat, chopped down trees to build our homes. We began harvesting oil from the Earth to heat our homes, and unfortunately we harvested it from such things as whales for the same reason.
       Some where along the way we became so good at living that we moved on from merely surviving to creating things for novelty purposes only. We convince ourselves we need these things, sure, but they are really to make things easier or more fun. We don't really need that new Ipod to survive. I was surviving five years ago just fine, so I don't think that I really need it. We are just so overwhelmed with abundant resources that we use them to our lives more fun interesting, etc.
     Let's take a look at the peacock. A proud bird, noble feathers, all that. You get it. Were you aware that the the peacock with the more abundant resources has the more beautiful tail. If he has more water available. If he has more nutritious food, he will develop a more beautiful tail. Of course this is to attract mates to the best of the best. It also makes him more vulnerable to predators. He is more easy to spot, and moves much slower due to the added weight of the tail.
     Let's take a look at us. With more money and resources we make ourselves more attractive to others. If we have more money we buy a hot car, hot wife, hot coffee, etc. We are showing off our tail. The problem is dopamine. Yes, it's time for a look at my brain. Our brains reward us for new, exciting and novel things and ideas. The act of buying our first Lamborghini is very exciting and our brain rewards us with a little shot of Dopamine. Nice. We like it so we try it again. The next time we buy a Lamborghini, however, its not the same. It's not new and novel anymore. Not the same rush.
     I was pondering all the tings that I think I want and whether I need them or I just wanted to obtain them for the rush. This made me think about Las Vegas. These people have it all figured out. I decided that when I went last fall that my goal wasn't really to come home with a lot of money. My goal was to win money. The act of winning is where the rush is. I could have thousands of dollars in my pocket, but get blackjack and win ten dollars, that's where the rush is. My brain gives me little reward and I go out looking for more.
     The problem with this thinking is it will never end. Soon nothing will satiate my need for a little Dopamine shot to the neural pathways and the reward system of my brain. You see, my brain loves rewards. So here's my idea. What if we could convince ourselves and everyone else that it is most exciting not to want things and to save resources. The more you save the more of a peacock you are. "Damn, look at his feathers, he must totally be off the grid." If the big consumers (I am not one) could just see there is value in non-consuming, maybe that's where the next big rush will come from.
     I am no peacock, I have found my mate, and could care less about a sports car, so I guess I'm safe from predators for now. But, I'm going to try and be aware of the big bad wolf. Do I really need those things? Do I just want to buy them because the act of spending on new things is exciting? I do love new stuff, so this is going to be a tough one. I also know this came across as a little preachy, so I apologize to the loyal reader. This is merely a lesson for me, not advice for everyone.

Love and Rockets

  

Terrestrial Observations From Super Low Earth Orbit

    May I first apologize to those of you that have been looking for my next post. I was very sick for about a week after returning from Philadelphia, then it seemed like we became so busy that I had to start cutting things out, like writing my blog. Well, I'm back with a new found spirit and motivation, so lets get this train rolling again.
    I am a watcher of people. I guess it's my way of not getting involved. I can observe from a distance and feel as if I am engaged in what is going on. I really enjoy just sitting at the airport, (I know, who enjoys just sitting at the airport?) I like watching people when they are stressed, vulnerable and basically in a hurried state. How many times can one person go through the metal detector before they get all the change out of their pockets? What would make a person drag three kids and four carry-on bags through an airport instead of just checking the dang things? It seems we want to make things as difficult as possible because we think it is somehow easier to do things this way. We expect the act of flying to be stressful, so we do all in our power to make it so. Basically, I think most people are crazy, but his isn't an article on the crazy things people do, but more about the crazy thing I did to prove a theory I have. (Or is it a hypothesis? I forget.)
    I wanted to conduct a test to see how much people paid attention to the world around them, and if they noticed the small things that have a tendency to keep me up at night. So last Thursday I began my test.
     For about two and a half days I wore two different shoes. They were both tennis shoes with very subtle differences. One was white and blue and the other was grey and blue. I wore these shoes to work, around the house and even to the mall. I watched people's reaction to see if they would even notice. I was sure one person would give me a funny look or at least a second glance. I was also sure one of my closer friends or at least one of my kids would point it out in order to make fun of me. Well after two and a half days I have to tell you, I got nothing. Not a second look, no snickers, nada, zilch. I know the evidence is anecdotal at best, but I truly believe people don't notice what is going on around them.
     How many times do we ignore the obvious imperfections around us because we either don't care, don't notice or are too afraid to tell someone that they screwed up. If you had spinach in your teeth, wouldn't you want someone to tell you? We would prefer it was a close friend and not, say a blind date or something, but I think we would all like someone to let us know.
     The problem I have is I have a problem doing as I say. I am not one to approach a person and let them know. I am so afraid I will offend the person. I don't want them thinking that I am criticizing them or pointing out some flaw that makes me look like I am above them. (I assure you this is not the case.) It seems like every time I say something to someone they get mad a me and take offense. I am no better than anyone else so when I tell someone something it is with the noblest of intentions. I am not offended if someone tells me when I screwed up, made a mistake or did something inappropriate. It is how we learn about ourselves and other people. I guess we are just afraid we don't know people as well as we think. We may perceive one thing and find out when we approach someone that they are completely different than we imagined. A scary thought, so I have always thought that it is safer on the sidelines.
    A small anecdote about how perceptions can change in a minute. I was at the dog park with Truman when I saw a young lady. I have to say she was quite stunning. Very tall, form fitting jeans, small sequined cami. (I live with three women, I know what a cami is,)  Looking very good for the dog park, I must say. We were hanging out by the lake for quite a while, and I had formed an image in my head about here. Popular, successful, Everything perfect, clothes, hair, job, life. She seemed to have it all together. Then it happened. She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a can of Copenhagen, flipped it twice and took a big dip. This is not a condemnation of tobacco and tobacco related products, but really? My perception changed instantly. It made me start to think what people think of me from the sidelines. What perceptions have they formed in their heads? How much more would they learn about me if they approached me and told me, "Hey, you know your wearing two different shoes." Then they would learn that I am a mentally ill idiot who conducts social experiments for fun. See how much were can learn about each other by stepping on the field.
     So if I take my own advice I guess I better get more involved, get in the game, start telling people they have something in their teeth, (like Copenhagen). The sidelines are getting crowded, and I don't like crowds, so time to get moving. Enjoy the day, enjoy each other, and don't be afraid to help each other out. Check your teeth. Check my shoes, and for goodness sake, if your a hot girl, ditch the Copenhagen. Really. It messes with my head.

Eeyore's Silver Lining

I have a problem always seeing the negative and letting it get in the way of the positive. (No matter how trivial the negative may be.) The thing that makes this my way of thinking is that I seem to be followed by a dark cloud most of the time. It hovers over me day and night. If something could go wrong it probably will. Murphy's law. (There is a chapter in Murphy's book devoted to me.) Well, I think its time to look for the positive. Start being more like eeyore. Yes, it's true, Eeyore looks to the positive.

"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.

"So it is."

"And freezing."

"Is it?"

"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."

Well, there wasn't an earthquake, but let me tell you of my trip to Philadelphia this past weekend. It was a great idea in the planning stages. Cathie was presenting at a conference out there and had a room for a few nights. Madeline and I decided we would go out for a couple of days and check out the sights.
     As an airline employee, I fly standby for the flights. Things were very tight for us when Madeline and I left on Friday, but thanks to a friend, we made it on our flights and got to Philadelphia.
     We took the train from the airport to downtown. I had studied the map over and over so I knew where I was going to go when I got off the train. Madeline and I left the train station and headed south. Wrong. After walking many blocks we realized (thanks to a phone call from my wife) that we had gone the wrong way. It was cold and rainy, great day for a walk. We got to the hotel and headed for the pool. I needed some hot tub time to wash away my frustration. Joining us were six of the noisiest kids the earth has ever seen or heard. Madeline and I both agreed to go back to our room because it was way too loud. (Sounds like I'm turning into a grumpy old man, "Damn noisy kids anyway")
     The next day we got going early and spent the day sightseeing, just Madeline and I. We got back to the room about five o'clock and I checked on the flights for the following day. I wanted to see if we were going to fly out of Newark or Philadelphia, and what time a flight left that had room for the three of us. Well, for those of you who watched the news last weekend, there were a lot of storms out east, (including one over my head.) Flights were canceling up and down the east coast. We had no way to fly back home. The only alternative was to rent a car from Philadelphia, and drive the 1200 miles back home so we could be to work monday morning. We rushed out of the room and grabbed a cab for the airport. In our haste I lost the bag of souvenirs Madeline had so carefully picked out at the gift shop. I forgot my toothbrush. Not a big deal until you realize it is a $100 Sonicaire toothbrush. My camera lens broke.($650 for that one.)
     We had to pay the cab driver a good chunk of money for the ride. Finally a few hundred dollars later we had a car. We could see it through the window. It was about a hundred yards away. Did I mention it was the heaviest downpour I have ever seen? We got to the car, I proceded to load it in the pouring rain, getting soaked down to the skin. I was tired and miserable, and now I had to drive twenty hours, overnight, in the pouring rain to get home. We did eventually make it back to Kansas. I caught a bad cold from the whole ordeal, but are no worse for the wear. One thing I wanted to reflect on is Madeline and my day together, because how soon we forget what we got to do because of what we had to do.
    I realized that I would gladly do it all over again. Madeline and I had the best day together. It is not often just the two of us get to spend time together. We rode around Philly in a double decker bus and visited all the sights. Her and I ran up the "Rocky Steps" and jumped around like a couple of tourists. We saw independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. We made a wish on Bejamin Franklin's grave. We ate Philly cheese steak sandwiches while checking out the Reading Terminal Market. Betsy Ross's house, a masonic temple, city hall, wonderful works of art everywhere were ours to explore. It was a wonderful day together that I wouldn't have traded for anything.
     My free trip ended up costing me plenty, but I got much more in return. A memory to last a lifetime. So I again will try not to lose sight of the good stuff because of the crap surrounding it. At least there wasn't an earthquake.

Chasm Jumper

As promised here is the first official installment of my blog ‘The Space Between’.

I have decided to take this adventure into my overloaded and often misguided brain, slow. Much like Dante’s adventure into hell, or on the lighter side, Donkey’s (Shrek) personality. My brain contains many layers. Each layer more confusing and often more frightening than the previous. That is why I have decided to ease you, poor reader,  one step at a time, starting with the outer layer. The one you see most often.  And today I will bring you a piece of that. One thing that makes me very happy.

There is an old Ojibwa legend that says when God created the earth, He created all the animals and then he created man. In order to show man’s dominion over all of the animal kingdom, God created a wide chasm. Only the dog tried to find a way across to join man. He tried to jump the huge chasm but only his forepaws reached the far edge. Man reached down and pulled him to safety, saying “you shall be my companion forever.”  This is the story of my Chasm Jumper.

A few years ago I lost my dog and faithful companion, Mulligan. A beautiful Samoyed who was indeed a true friend. I marked this day as a turning point in my life. Everything seemed to run downhill from there. Nothing was quite right in my world. A series of disappointments followed, too numerous and mundane to mention. (They did not seem mundane at the time, but it is all a matter of perspective, isn’t it, reader?) I felt like I was being punished for something and that day. I remember the day very clearly; it was July 4^th, 2008, the day the dam broke. I will save that story for another day; this is supposed to be a happy story.

Well, hearts mend, sadness fades and we learn to go on. He was a dog, for goodness sake. We know we are going to outlive them. It’s inevitable. We enjoy them while they are here with us, and we should be thankful each day we get to spend with them. The story of a dog never has a happy ending, just a happy middle. Take ‘Old Yeller,’ ‘Where the Red Fern Grows’, not happy endings, but wonderful middles.

This brings me to my best buddy, a true mamma’s boy, Truman Kalel. (I don’t blame him for loving his momma, I happen to feel the same about her.) He came into my life two summers ago and I look at him as if he jumped the chasm just for me. I realize that he is a dog, and that I anthropomorphize way too much, but for those of you who have a loyal companion such as mine will know the love and strength a dog can bring you.

Truman is a blue merle Australian Shepherd.  A very smart and loyal breed. He is a constant companion who never judges, always listens, and is there for me regardless of what I need. If I need to just go for a walk to shake some things off, bounce some ideas off him for a project, or if I just need some quiet time on the couch he is there with me. In fact he is here by my side now watching me type this up. I am concerned he might be offended by the fact that I called him a dog on numerous occasions, because he is way more than that.

People have a hard time achieving happiness in their lives. They tend to get wrapped up in their own little world. People get confused because they do not know what they need or want, and then depression sets in. Dogs do not have this problem. They know exactly what makes them happy---doing something for someone.

So if you see me with Truman, know that we are doing something that makes us both very happy, spending time with one another. Not complaining, judging, whining or criticizing, just hanging out, and what could be better than that. So thank you Truman for jumping the chasm when I needed you most.

He is your friend, your partner, your defender; your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours faithful and true to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.

A moving testament to a dog’s loyalty was found in the ruins of Pompeii: A dog had thrown himself over his young master’s body as the volcano erupted in AD 79. Archaeologists discovered the pair almost 2000 years later.

Steve……………………

First post

    Inspired by an old friend in Minnesota, I have decided to begin writing a blog. It is more for me than anyone, so I won't be offended if you don't care for it. I came to the conclusion while stuffed in an MRI the other day that I was going about things wrong, and that things needed to be changed. I needed a new focus in life. (A lot of strange thoughts go through your head when your stuck in a tube for 40 minutes with no possibility of escape.)
    I decided that I was spending way too much time and energy in the pursuit of happiness. One of the things entitled to all Americans along with life and liberty. Instead of spending my life pursuing the thing that may make me happy, I thought I should be doing the things that make me happy.
    One thing that I enjoy doing very much is writing. I have no formal skills at this, as you have probably decided by this point, but I find it a good way to get the tens of thousands of ideas that are constantly swirling in my brain, out. I need to purge these constant observations that I mull over and that keep me awake at night.
    As my wife will tell you, even the smallest fact, observation, or idea can bother me so much that I can't seem to move on.
    So, reader, this is where I plan to purge. Let my thoughts flow free. Some things may be positive and inspirational, other posts may just be about something that is bugging me at that time. I look forward to feedback to prove or disprove that I am indeed going crazy, or hopefully, changing my life and attitude for the better.
    For those of you who are not Dave Matthew fans, The Space Between is a song that describes a person dealing with a lot of crap over here, and a lot of negativity over here. "The space between is were you'll find me waiting for you." I will refer to this song on other occasions, reader, so you may want to check it out. 
    For those friends who have shown some concern, I am not depressed or losing it. I am fine. There has just been a barrage of crap thrown my way over the last year, that enough is enough. God, if you are indeed testing me, though it is not for me to decide, I think I passed already.
    So reader, give it a chance. You might find something that you have thought about as well. You may totally disagree with me, which is fine. But give it a chance.
    Thanks for reading reader.