Number 40

Today is the anniversary of my entry into this world.  And it strikes me that birthdays are different for you as you are different ages.

A shit ton of candles!

Up until 30, I eagerly anticipated each birthday as a chance to celebrate and rejoice.  Well, I also used to look forward to drinking for free all weekend, but that's another story...

So we shall say, I am 29 today.  Again.  It's my annually recurring 29th birthday.

I'm THAT guy!

I had a mild panic attack a few years back on my birthday.  I felt I was blowing it.  That I'd wasted my life and my chances.  That I'd squandered opportunities to have deep, life long happiness.  That I'd wasted relationships I should have kept.

They're walking to the end...to jump off!

 And, in general, it was a pretty depressing and pessimistic way of looking at things.

But the upside to that Debbie Downer moment I had is that I got to change my course.  I got to change my outlook, change my trajectory, get myself right.

Since I'm not 12 and won't be getting my G.I. Joe with Kung Fu Grip I requested, birthdays these years are generally about taking stock.  About seeing where I am, and where I want to be.  And most of all, about being thankful for the things I have.

Because I know the last time I tried to post anything on my birthday, it was all full of "glass half empty" shit.

I sit here today and I know that every need in the world I have is fulfilled.  My life is lacking no necessity.  That's a fucking AMAZING thing to write.

Let's look at that again: there is no need in my life that is unfulfilled.

I am a homeowner.  I have a good job.  My bills are all paid early.  I have money in the bank and retirement accounts that are doing their jobs.  I have a small, but very awesome, tightly knit network of protective friends that love me and would do anything for me.  I have passions in my life that I get to devote my time and energy towards that keep me healthy, sane and in shape.  I am in good health.  My family is still mostly intact and alive and a great asset.  I look and feel much, MUCH younger than I am given my year of birth.  I am Jack's raging sense of contentment. Despite my whining.

In general, I enjoy the hell out of my life.

I can't even look back and say the things that didn't work out as planned, that engagement and marriage that didn't materialize like plans had been laid, is really all that bad.  Because would I be here now, doing my thing had it?

I'm not prone to loneliness.  My life is pretty full.  Which isn't to say "never say never".  I almost said "till death parts us" in the recent. So there's a door sitting there (a door standing on the beach for you Stephen King Dark Tower types).  And it'll open when and if it's supposed to.  I know that.  I'll not force the square peg into a round hole.

Not that my peg is square. Because that'd be an odd sight.

Sadly, my peg IS square!

It'd be easy to sit here and say, given all the luke-warm water, new aged hippy bullshit vibe of my life and this post, that I'm going to just keep on keeping on with what I'm doing.  Because if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?!

There are always goals.  There are the wants.  There are always the wants.  There are the passions.  There are always the hills and mountains from which you WANT to see the view.

And there are fires lit all the time.  And I still have wants...I have fires.  Thankfully.

Sometime it takes an appearance by the most unlikely person with the greatest kindness and passion, like the member of some club, for you to realize that you have it great, sure, but HOLY SHIT, MAN!  There's this other great stuff still out here waiting for you!  Get off your ass and go get it!  Get off your fluffy chair in your den, get out of your house, get training and go get that shit!

It just takes being reminded, sometimes.  Sometimes you get reminded by some incident.  Sometimes you get reminded by someone.

So here's to being thankful, grateful and content with what I have.  But here's a huge THANK YOU the fire starter for lighting the passions and reminding me that there's still life to be lived, there's still greatness out there to be seen and done. There are still some best "firsts" still out there waiting to be had and experienced if only you're willing to get out and go get them.

Pyro moment!

Life is too short to be spent in a state of need...lacking what you need for happiness.

I look forward to moving forward fully lit afire.  And may you do the same, my friends.

Polyester Life

"I'm sick of this terrycloth existence" - Hank, 2.13.61

It's July and I already see the Back to School ads popping up here and there.  How does that happen?  The summer's only a month old for most kids!?



The summers used to be what I lived for back in my former life as a teacher.  Any teacher who tells you they don't love their time off isn't being fully honest with you.

At the end of each summer, I have a birthday.  My mother loved this for me.  Well, she loved this for her. She loved the fact that she had an excuse to go spend a day with me to take me shopping and buy me new teacher clothes.  Mom was very proud that I was a teacher back then.

See, kids get the back to school shopping...teachers aren't all that different.  Each year mom and I would go to The Gap and stock up.  And each year it would pain me to shop there.  I felt like such a fraud.  Like it was going to cause one of my testicles to go rolling out of my pant leg.  Because in my macho-bullshit mind, shopping there was somehow beneath me.

(totally not me walking out sans testicle)

I'm going to make a bold statement here.  I will never shop at The Gap again.  Nothing against them...or against people who shop there, but it's not my bag.

(not my bag, baby!)

I'm not white collar anymore.  I'm blue collar.  And I think people can smell it on me these days.  I walk and work among the mechanics and men who have their names stitched on their clothing, and I'm one of them.  I'm accepted and un-judged and unscarred.

I know that these are good folks, for the most part.  These are the fellas (and there are a few girls I come in contact with that fall in this category) that'd buy me a beer, who treat me as an equal, who get by with the sweat of their brow.  These are the people I feel more comfortable around these days after working my job than the teachers I spent 7 years with in my "career."

(I'm in the very back if you look closely)

Back in some former life I put myself in a hairy, rough situation, and I learned really quickly that standing out isn't such a good thing.  Belonging can save your ass.  If you come across as the overly educated white guy from the suburbs when you need to look like someone who can take a punch or stand his ground...well, that can have a way of ostracizing you that isn't always pleasant.

(Johnny Burden...the leader of polyester club)

I suppose the big revelation ('cause aren't you always supposed to hit with that in your conclusion paragraph?!) is that it's nice to be comfortable in your skin...to be comfortable in your place in the world.  Even if it took you over 30 years to get there...even if it's not with summer's off anymore...even if it gives me shirts that have my name stitched to the tit...finding your niche is a lovely thing indeed.

Standing comfortable in your skin and who you are is a good, good thing.