"Wilson!!"

Ok, I'm one of those people that truly believes that inanimate objects do in fact have a life of their own and they can be pretty hostile.  Hey, that coffee table DID nudge it's way into the path of my oncoming shin.  And how about all those damn spice bottles?  They all lay in wait, sitting patiently as I peruse the labels but at the moment I choose one bottle the ambush is sprung and a mountain of spice bottles comes crashing down on me.  The stories as well as the scars from these atrocities are many but it's a burden we must all endure as we live among the inanimates.

But there's a flip side to this horror.  A story of collaboration and harmony.  A partnership, if you will.  My racing bike was one such partner.  She carried me across 200 miles of the desert floor in Death Valley, a couple of Iron distance triathlons, several centuries, countless smaller triathlons and thousands of training miles all along the California coast.  It was a very sad day indeed when I finally had to say good bye to my beloved friend.  

Just the other day, I had to say goodbye to another friend I've been with for over 15 years.  Like my racing bike, my Timex Ironman watch had been with me through countless athletic journeys.  It tracked my pace, reminded me when to eat and drink, told me when to sprint and when to recover, it bore the bad news of a failed goal but other times shared in the glory of a personal best.  I wore it constantly.  Through thousands of laps in the pool, thousands of miles on the bike and thousands of miles pounding the pavement, he was always there.  He stood with me at the start of every race and triumphantly crossed every finish line.  Never once took a sick day.  Never once failed to keep time.  Never once had it's battery changed.  No matter what the weather or what the conditions, he was a steadfast companion. 

It was several years ago when the years and miles finally caught up with my old friend.  The wrist strap finally broke off and the repair shop had said they no longer carried that model and therefore had no spare parts.  But with as much dignity as a watch could muster, he gracefully entered into retirement, serving as my trusty alarm clock for his remaining years.  Again, never once failing me, he was true to the end.  It was the other morning while I was on travel that he beeped his final beep.  When I turned off the alarm his screen fluttered and then went blank.  He could've passed on during the night but instead stayed by my bed side until it was time for me to get up and then.... he was gone.  As part of this blog I wanted to show a picture of my friend and like a real trooper he was able to illuminate his face long enough for me to capture this picture.

He was the watch that all other watches were measured.  He had all the right features and was simple to use.  No other watch before or since has been so true and consistent.  It's kinda hard to say goodbye.  We'd been through so much together.  Saying goodbye to him is like saying goodbye to a part of myself.  Now before you go on making fun of me, keep in mind most of you guys have had that favorite power tool and many of you women have had that perfect blow dryer that today's appliances just don't quite measure up.  My friend will be truly missed.  Perhaps one day when I make my way back to Death Valley I'll take his remains with me, to experience one last time the glories of conquering life's challenges.

Farewell my friend!

Doppelgänger

Doppel what? You know, your exact look-a-like. We all have at least one. Haven't you ever been out and seen someone that looked just like a friend or family member of yours? Of course, we all have. Makes for a quick bit of interesting conversation. Kinda weird to think there's someone out there that looks like me. Poor guy.

But the thought struck me, what kind of life does my look-a-like have? If I was a bettin' man I'd say its pretty different than mine. He could be more or less successful, more or less happy and content with life. With that being the case, doesn't it prove the point that looks don't really matter? If the one constant is our appearance yet we have dissimilar lives then looks really are insignificant. So why then do we spend so much time in front of the mirror? You women are the worst offenders. Trust me I speak from experience.

We're so enamored with the hot waitress or beefy fireman but what we're really attracted to is character. A nice rack or six pack abs will get someone's attention but it's who you are that makes a person fall in love with you. I'm overstating the obvious by saying spend less time in front of the mirror and more time on discovering who you really are and share THAT with those around you. Trust me a pretty face is a dime a dozen and easily forgotten. Don't believe me? Ok, you've got 5 seconds. Think of a hot guy or girl you met when you were 21. GO! You can't, can you? Now if you did think of someone I guarantee you there was something else about them other than their looks that left a lasting impression on you.

If you find yourself going out on a lot of first dates or your relationships don't last more than a season, I'd say you're fishing in the wrong pond using the wrong bait. So to hell with the starvation diets, body augmentations, the clothes and all the rest of your accessories. Accept the fact you are a beautiful person without all that crap. Breaking the mirror that berates you everyday won't cause you seven years of bad luck. On the contrary, it will set you free so you can express your REAL beauty.

Remember, your character matters more than your reflection.

Bloody well right...

Thank you Blogger app on the iPhone. After my recent mishap and now being relegated to the "hunt n peck" technique of typing I can still blog using my trusty thumb without all the aggravation of using a normal keyboard.

Wow, you never know how much you use a body part until you injure it. Who knew my right hand ring finger played such an integral role in my life. The sharp, darting pain is a keen reminder of how busy that little finger usually is. I can only hope the recovery is quick. Having this club on my finger is one thing but for those that know me I suck in the patience department. I can tell my ire is up more than usual, even with all the positive quotes and mental exercises. Probably best I'm heading out on business travel today. I think I'm wearing a bit thin on my wife.

No, I didn't go see a doctor. Recall my previous comment about patience. Plus there's nothing to stitch. There's just this nice divot in my finger. Kinda reminds me of my golf game. Ironic because I swear at that too. Guess this accident just proves I'm my father's son. Dad can't do anything without drawing blood. Don't think it's so much that we're all tough and macho. It's more that we haven't quite mastered the use of tools that our ancestors did thousands of years ago. Oh well, if its not a core competency then outsource. Sorry honey.

I won't post a pic of the wound but I'll send it to whoever is freakish enough to want to see it. You know it just occurred to me that I never found the part I cut off. Is it still considered cannibalism if you eat yourself???

Karma 1, John 0

Not sure what possessed me to do this but the other day I offered to my darling wife that I would cook dinner for her tonight.  No, not Mac n Cheese with hot dogs nor Sloppy Joe.  This is a full-on meal with meat, veggies and pasta.  I'm going all German on her tonight with schnitzel, spaetzle and a cucumber salad.  Hey, it's about time I earned my keep around here and my status as "trophy husband" has pretty much lost it's luster. 

Carrying a significant amount of German blood in me and having spent a good eight years living in that glorious country I have quite a taste for German delicacies and especially their beer.  I thought why not share one of my favorite meals with my girl?  So what does all this have to do with Karma?  I'm getting to it, just hold your mustard.

This afternoon I needed to get a few things from the market in order to make this magnificent meal.  My plan was to go to our regular King Soopers to get the food stuffs and the liquor store next door because, hey, this is Colorado and they haven't quite figured out this whole "sell booze in the grocery store" thing that so many more evolved states have figured out.  Of course this booze store has a very poor, overpriced selection of wines.  Even the crap stuff was more expensive than a decent bottle found at most other stores.  Alright, bag that.  Just walk over to Soopers and get the food necessities.  Of course they have everything save one, lemon juice.  Of course when I asked where I could find it three different clerks sent me to the different parts of the store, all for naught.  SCREW!  Ok, fine, I'll drive across the street to Safeway to get what I need.  What happens there? Karma kicked in.  I find my little bottle of lemon juice and as I make my way to the EXPRESS FRICKIN' LANE, a woman walks up with a cart full of items that far exceeded the 15 item limit.  Of course she sees me and my little bottle and proceeds to whip her cart right in front of me.  Oh well, don't be a tool, just let it go.  BREATHE.......   As she slowly puts one item at a time on the conveyor belt another clerk is just standing there, taking this all in.  A couple other folks fall in line behind me and this clerk is still watching.  As the checker is scanning the last item and "Gladys" starts filling out her checkbook (Ahem, it's a FRICKING EXPRESS LANE!!!), the comatose clerk who'd been standing there decides to open the other express lane and before the last item is bagged for this lady in front of me, the other two folks that WERE behind me are now walking out the door of this lovely establishment.  Oh, did I tell you I had a couple of frozen items that were now melting in my car thanks to this great thing called Global Warming?

Well, eventually I made my way out of the store with my little lemon bottle in hand.  I was immediately accosted by a crack dealer, I mean Girl Scout Cookie Seller, but had to quickly make my way to my car because I still had to pick up a bottle of wine.  My go-to guys were there with exactly what I needed.  In my head I'm lecturing myself that I should've just come to these guys first.  They've always got what I need at a reasonable price plus during baseball and football season they always have a game on and I get a chance to carry on with some sport talk banter that I otherwise only get to do through text messages with my friend Gina.

So a 15 minute trip probably was a bit closer to 30 just because Karma was feeling a little frisky today.  Oh well, if that's the greatest of my worries then I'm a pretty lucky guy.  So now I'm keeping my fingers crossed and trying to channel the great German cooks to hopefully prepare something nice for my girl.  But just in case I've got several boxes of Mac n Cheese at the ready...

Days of love...

I'm not a hater of Valentine's Day, not by any stretch of the imagination.  I will say from my perspective it's kinda like that absent parent that only shows up once a year to shower their child with all kinds of lavish gifts and treats but throughout the year is mostly off the radar.  I suppose in their mind the extravagance of that one day makes up for the other 364 days where they missed out on all the wonderful little opportunities to share in someone's life.

I know not every one sees Valentine's Day that way.  I have several friends who have very special traditions they share with their spouse during this day of love and I really think it's sweet.  But we all know there are a lot of folks out there that use this day to "mail it in", as it were, making a semi-valiant attempt to let their significant other know how special and how loved they are even though they've spent the better part of the year failing to do anything more affectionate than to say, "So, ya wanna??"  So for them it's time for the grand gesture, the Broadway production, the big bang that says to your spouse and to the world, "I love you!"  Yep, for one, sweet, fleeting moment.

Maybe it's just a matter of taste.  Some folks like all the hoopla and the showmanship.  Personally I like the smaller yet more consistent gestures throughout the year that constantly validate and strengthen the love my Julie and I have for each other.  I don't want to be close to her just once a year but rather every day of the year.  It doesn't mean we're all sappy, lovey dovey towards each other all the time.  I think we'd end up driving each other nuts if that were the case.  But every day we do speak affectionately to each other.  Every night we kiss good night.  We run errands together and for each other.  We enjoy the same hobbies.  We do little surprises for each other like bringing coffee, picking up their favorite indulgence from the store or even a simple text message during the day saying "I love you." And the differences in our personalities are the things we reach for in each other in order to make us complete.  I love being in love with my wife all year long, not just on one particularly cold day in February. 

Happy Valentine's Day everyone.  And may the love you share today be shared each and every day of the year.

Good things come to those who shut up and stop complaining...

And here I was all set to bitch and complain about something when in the mail comes a wonderful and very unexpected treat.  First the bad news....

Saturday I get this little nasty gram from some law firm in Denver, I think it was Suck It, Screw You, and Blow Me & Associates.  Apparently this esteemed gaggle of cut throats were contracted by the Orange County Transportation Authority (OTCA) to collect on unpaid toll violations.  As you can imagine it pretty much got me all riled up considering the fact I haven't lived in So Cal since June of 2009 and this "violation" occurred last August.  So this morning I called these blood sucking lawyers and I get the claims people who only wanted me to provide a credit card number in order to pay off this $90 bill.  The guy really didn't want to hear my story, how I haven't lived there in years, that the violation happened last year and it wasn't even my car.  Talk to the hand, a-hole, I just want your money.  Oh, did I tell you?  This was CLASSIC!  The letter they sent me stated in no uncertain terms that I will NOT contact OCTA to try to adjudicate this mistake.  Nope, I was meant to pay the bill and move on.

Well, I might have just paid the bill and be done with it.  When it comes to crap like that there's really no fighting it.  Lawyers, like Irvine cops, pretty much get away with anything, preying upon the law abiding citizens while turning their backs on the real criminals.  You know, because I'm sure that 70 year old woman driving that car deserved to be body slammed to the pavement and slapped in cuffs.  Hey old people, let that be a warning to you not to fiddle about with your dentures while you're driving.  So, to hell with the lawyers, I called the OCTA to get to the bottom of this.  Within just a matter of minutes I'm talking to a real life person who after checking the violation number quickly discovered it was a mistake, that the vehicle wasn't mine and that I'm just to ignore the letter.

Whew!  Dodged a bullet.  But wait, just to make sure I call back the blood suckers to let them know what I discovered.  Again, all this vampire wanted was my credit card and said I was still liable and would face additional charges if I didn't pay immediately.  Even more pissed off than before, I called the OCTA again asking for a document I could shove, I mean, deliver to these misguided souls but they said it wasn't necessary, that they notify this law office every Monday whenever there is a mistake such as this and, again, just ignore it.  Well, I'm going to blow this off for a couple weeks and will then follow up with another call to the law dogs to see what's up. 

I guess the thing, among many, that really sets me off about this is that there's no accountability.  All these lawyer clowns wanted was my money, they didn't want to hear a thing about fairness, justice or what's right.  But hey, I've known that about many who work in the legal profession.  The problem with most lawyers is they don't understand that just because something is legal doesn't make it right.  These clowns would've collected my money without batting an eye.  A week later the OCTA would've notified them of the mistake but do you think the lawyers would return my money?  Oh HELL no!  Or if they did they'd charge me a processing fee of $150, thus I would owe them an additional $60.  Nope, more likely my money would've gone into their slush fund so when these folks make their annual boondoggle to Vegas they'll have plenty of cash for the strip clubs. 

Am I being a bit harsh in my description of our community servants?  Perhaps, but there's truth in within my inflammatory words.  My experience with these protectors of the citizenry has been less than positive over the last 20 years and I'm more likely to encounter a bully than a buddy.  I do know a couple lawyers who are honest and forthright and I have the utmost respect for them but unfortunately they seem to be the exception rather than the rule.  And the OC cops I've had they unpleasant experience of meeting during the VERY rare moving violation were nothing more than thugs who took great pleasure in yelling, cursing and threatening me, all because they have a badge and a gun and I don't.  Guys, sorry high school was such a rotten time for you but get over yourselves. 

But hey, hold on now, there's that unexpected treat I was telling you about.  So this afternoon I go to collect the mail and what do I find?  A gift card from my local auto repair shop, with a hand written note thanking me not only for my business but for placing my trust in them to take car of my car.  Wow, someone who really cares about their craft and their customers.  I can't get over what a wonderful gesture that was.  That was really going the extra mile when they really didn't have to.  It does remind me that there are good people and businesses out there who truly do care not just about their bottom line but by those who influence it.... the customer.  Well guys, I'll tell you right now I'll be taking my cars to you until that asteroid hits us this month or some other major catastrophic event that forces us to cruise around on horses or on foot.  Maybe they'll go into the hoof and boot business.  If so, I'll be their first customer. 

Thank you, Roadmasters Auto & Tire Center of Northglenn, Colorado!

A call to arms...

It's starting to seem obvious to me that they'll issue a man card to pretty much anyone these days and it's no longer a gender specific club.  Last night I had a great time hanging out with two of my three lovely ladies at Bar Louie but let's face it, for all intents and purposes it was a girls night out with a special guest from the male community.  Sitting there last night just brought home the point that there are virtually no men that I know of in this great suburbia that like to hang out.  No one to drink beer, watch a game, eat some wings or bitch about their lot in life.  Nope those kind of men are pretty much an extinct species.  You're more likely to find Big Foot and Jimmie Hoffa playing shuffle board than find a small group of guys hanging out at a sports bar.  There's been a huge shift in the gender paradigm (yes, I said paradigm).  This over compensation in trying to make more husbands more caring, sensitive, thoughtful and nurturing has sapped this great nation of it's greatest natural resource, testosterone, and has put the proverbial "pants of the family" on the lovely gams of our women folk. 

Crazy talk you say?  Let me prove it.  During football season my "guy time" is actually spent texting back and forth with my buddy Gina over the progress of the games.  She can throw down the smack talk with the best of them and she can make a sailor blush.  The periodic comments about how hot Clay Matthews is is a bit annoying but it just reminds me that I'm conversing with a woman.  Most of the folks I know in the surrounding neighborhoods that do anything remotely active are all of the female persuasion.  Running, hiking, skiing, shooting, all women.  Geez, even my trainer, yes Natalie, raced a 10K, is snowshoeing now and later today going to a shooting range.  I thought Colorado was a manly-man's kind of state.  Guys driving around in beat up F150s, hiking mountains, killing bears with homemade spears, drinking beer you can't see through, at least that's what I read in the brochure.  Nope, most men I  know are being held captive pretty much on their own accord, never venturing beyond visual contact of their bridal overlords.  Hey, I have no problem with men being domesticated, especially when they have families to tend to.  Those years with the kids in the house fly by so take advantage but even criminals in solitary confinement get 15 minutes of exercise time in the prison court yard so why not go out for a beer every once in a while? 

To this day the best group of guy friends I've ever had was back in my sophomore days in high school.  Jeff, Jay, Mike and Mike.  They were all cooler than the back side of a pillow.  We played football together, beat the crap out of each other, plowed through beer together and hurled insults at each others mother and but most importantly, we ALWAYS had each others back.  No beer nor buddy left behind, that was our creed.  Hey, you ladies have your girl's night out or your salon days or whatever your estrogen compels you to do.  But what happen to guy's night?  Where's the beer call?  I thought about putting out an ad in Craig's List but I figured that would just draw the wrong type of man.  "Sorry, dude, you want the guys at that martini bar down the street." 

I think there needs to be a certification process in order to reach manhood.  Just having a pair doesn't necessarily qualify you as a man.  First, let's talk age.  Any one in their 20's or early 30's really doesn't qualify.  At that age you're still trying to relive your glory days of high school which is pretty pathetic and besides, you haven't really lived (with the exception of our combat soldiers) or experienced anything of significance.  Besides, at that age you're all pretty much just a bunch of pricks.  Sure you can apply for an exception but the evaluation process is pretty steep and you'll need letters of recommendations from previous girl friends so the chances of you getting in are pretty slim. 

Secondly, vocation.  I really don't care what you do for a living but if your job is the only source of conversation then you're automatically disqualified.  If all you can talk about are switches, routers, operating systems or how you networked your light switch with your toilet then move on.  You don't have to be a sports fanatic, although that helps, or even be exceptionally athletic but you need to have an appreciation for competition and show that you are capable of doing things that take both physical and mental toughness to do.  Being married doesn't count. 

Thirdly, show some appreciation for the opposite sex.  Huh?  Alright, I was just trying to be polite here.  It's sad to think that I've heard this from my wife and other women more than I ever do from men, "Wow, look at the boobs on that girl."  Really?  You guys can't make that observation?  Are you telling me that only women and notice other women?  What the hell happened to you guys?  Now don't try to say you're just being polite or that you don't want to objectify women.  Hey, no one should ever be objectified but if your radar is that broke that you don't even notice an attractive woman then you have absolutely no business being a card carrying member of the men's club.  In a social setting I would expect the occasional remark about the hot waitress although actually hitting on a waitress is severely frowned upon and grounds for dismissal.  Come on, we're not animals and besides that waitress is only being nice to you because she's working for tips and more importantly she's probably younger than your daughter. 

I blame women for the demise of the American male.  Their over exuberance in creating a more sensitive, attentive and caring partner has produced a society of weak minded, feeble and frightened men who are only a mere shadow of their former selves.  We now fear to tread where other real men have gone before.  But that can all change.  Men, let's return ourselves to our previous glory.  Come on guys, Carpe balls!

PS - Now with all that being said, time to get back to laundry, dishes and grocery shopping.  Yeah, I'm currently on probation. 

Color me much better mood...

Ok, I was all set to go off on a rant this morning.  Well, yesterday actually.  It was one of those days where a few things kinda got me spun up.  I was running on the treadmill at the gym and my mind started fixating on a particular topic that really got my blood boiling.  So still simmering, later that afternoon Julie and I took a little excursion to go check out some train tracks way up past Walker Ranch, in hopes of finding a nice location for a photo shoot.  The drive was a bit longer than I anticipated and afterwards I realized I could've cut the drive time in almost half if I would've gone a different way.  Blood still boiling.  My situation didn't get any better as I realized all the pictures I was taking of the surrounding area pretty much sucked big ones.  Yep, it was one of those times I wished I was cloned so I could take the camera out of my hands and bitch slap myself with it, screaming, "YOU HAVE NO F'ING BUSINESS HOLDING A CAMERA!!"  My beautiful Julie pretty much caught my vibe and asked if I was "cranky pants."  I did my best to lie but I'm pretty sure the steam coming out of my ears told a much different story.  

So not being of sound mind or good mood, I was all set to get my piss and vinegar on today.  Fortunately my day actually started out pretty great.  My trainer has taken the big leap and is off running her own fitness business and is doing amazingly well.  I went to her O'dark 30 boot camp and had an awesome workout.  I even managed to overcome my previous shame by finally climbing this frickin' rope that hangs from the ceiling of a rather tall ceiling.  On my way home I stopped by a nearby Starbucks for my hazelnut coffee and as I was making my way out of the parking lot I noticed the beautiful morning sunrise reflecting off of this building.  Fortunately I had my camera in the car so I pulled over and snapped a few shots.  I'm pretty sure the photos don't come close to capturing how beautiful the colors of the sunrise appeared at that time but it was great to have my attention diverted to something more pleasing to the eye and to the soul.  It's times like that I feel like God is saying to me, "You know, John, if you weren't such a tool at times you might actually appreciate the beauty that's around you instead of being such a pissy little baby." 

Ok, ok, message received.  Thanks for the wake up call, Big Guy.  Here's to a wonderful day and a great weekend to come.  I promise, at least until my next episode, to take in all the wonderful things around me first and then worry about taking photos later. 

Running on Saturday...

"Tuesdays with Morrie", ever heard or seen the movie?  Me neither but I kinda recall the premise from the commercials aired years ago.  A student and professor reconnect after many years.  They get together every Tuesday to discuss a variety of topics ranging from the mundane to those things that drive our lives - dreams, ambitions, goals, successes and failures.

That pretty much sums up my runs with Natalie.  She's been training me, going on these past couple of years now and we've been running on weekends for the past year or so.  Now to be honest I'd say she probably does most of the talking because let's face it, it's hard to keep pace with someone over 20 years your junior but I do get a word in there from time to time.  Our conversations typically fall on the philosophical, on how we approach fitness, pursing goals, finding inspiration and exercising our motivations.    

For me running isn't about losing weight nor is fitness training about trying to look good or be able to fit into a certain pair of jeans.  Of course the immediate byproduct of working out is achieving or maintaining a certain fitness level.  But much deeper than that it's a knowing that you are in control of your own life, even if it's just that one hour each day as you slave away on the machines.  It's a time where YOU set the expectations for your life.  Bosses, colleagues, kids, spouses, significant others, family and friends all set expectations for you every day and if you're like me you find yourself struggling to live up to those standards.  But through inspiration and motivation you can and will achieve those things that matter most to you. 

Speaking of which, inspiration and motivation have always been a hot topic for me.  Too many of us confuse the two, making such comments like "I need you to motivate me."  You need to understand the difference between the two.  Inspiration is an event we observer or experience that calls to a deeper part of us.  Motivation, on the other hand, is something we create within ourselves.  We are inspired by events or the actions of others.  Motivation is that inner voice, energized by those moments of inspiration, that compels us to move forward even when we feel we want to stop.

Inspiration is bountiful.  Every where you look there are tales of inspiration, of how someone decided to make a change, to do something better for themselves or others.  And these aren't necessarily grand tales such as someone climbing Mt. Everest or completing an Ironman triathlon.  Some stories are as simple as a person making a commitment to getting healthy, finishing high school, starting up a business or ending a toxic relationship.  Any of those events could and should light a fire within you.  They're tales of average people that took charge of their lives which begs the question, why not you?

Motivation is a bit tricky.  As I said it's your inner voice, your own personal Drill Sergeant that pushes you through life's obstacles.  Now if you're waiting to be motivated then I'm sorry to say you'll be waiting around for a long time.  We all need a little kick in the pants now and then but if you're expecting someone else to push and prod you every step of the way then I'd say you're sorely lacking not just motivation but ambition as well as self-respect.  Motivation implies taking the initiative, whether that means following the exercise regimen without your trainer pushing you or calling the admissions office for an application or walking into the shop with the "Help Wanted" sign in the window.  You do all those things on your own not because you have to but because you WANT to.  There's no one standing there cheering you on, nor should there be.  This is about you and what matters to you.

It takes some courage and intestinal fortitude to move yourself forward through life.  Putting that responsibility on someone else is, well, chicken shit.  Own it, people.  Own your own life.  Be in charge of YOU!  Trust me, the gratification you'll feel from doing that will overwhelm you.