Waiting

When I replay in my mind the escapades, events, interactions, and altercations of my past, I only remember the events.  The moments in between have been discarded. I am guessing they still exist in some locked overfilled binder labeled "filler time".   Those empty moments are no longer retrievable.  I assume in my case there is only so much room up there in the void between my ears to store shit and empty moments remembered would just be cluttering up a smaller space than the average human carts around on their shoulders.

The other day I called a bike shop customer who lives near my house.  I had hauled his repaired bike to my house the other day to save him having to go into town to pick it up.  No problem, I do it often.  I'm coming home anyway.  He told me he would be right up.

I am not sure what "be right up" meant to him.  All I know is hang around for someone who might need 5 minutes to "be right up"and they still have not made it after 30 minutes, well it became clear to me his notion of "be right up" did not dovetail cleanly into my notion of "be right up".

While I cooled my heels until he showed I considered just how much time I had spent waiting during the last 60 years.  And because any time waiting falls into the category of "filler time", it never made it to the hard drive in my brain.  An accurate accounting of any time I have spent waiting is not going to happen.  I did determine though after considering all the ways one can wait, I spent a good portion of my time on this planet waiting.  The number of things I have waited on seem infinite.

I have waited for things to begin.  I have waited for things to end.  And once past the waiting for things to begin but before waiting for things to end I have sometimes waited for that thing to resume after having paused for one reason or another.

I have waited for people to show up.  I have waited for people to leave.  I have waited for people to speak.  I have waited for them to shut the Hell up.  I have waited for deliveries, mail, and the occasional email not sent to me robo style.

I have waited in line.  I have waited to get to that line so I can get in line.  I have waited to go to the bathroom.  I have waited occasionally for something to happen once I got to that bathroom stall.  I have waited for pots to boil, burgers to grill, and fish frying in a pan.  And don't get me started about waiting for traffic lights to change.  Once I began thinking about it, I have spent more time in my life waiting than actually doing.

Kinda diminishes the grand impression of what I have to show for existing 60 years on this rock.  Too bad I had to wait 60 years before I figured it out.

Later.............................................................

Walker's Paradise

I was taking a few rare moments from my recent business related only time on the Internet this AM to peruse some of the news from around the globe.  I hit the regular sites, Drudge Report, Drudge Retort, NY Times, Google News, etc.  An interesting article on pedestrian death rates popped up on my radar.  It appears that if one has a penchant for running over pedestrians, Florida is prime hunting ground.  I assume it is the concentration of old fogies that makes it easier pickings. 

If one likes to walk with a sense of safety, New England seems to be Walker's Paradise.  My own state comes in at number 45, New Hampster at 44, and Massachusetts is a relatively safe 42.  And while Alaska can claim being the 2nd safest state to hoof around, Vermont comes in as the safest place to wear out those new Reebok walkers you just bought.  If you want an edgier walk while up here in the North East, head to Connecticut (29th), or Rhode Island (31st).

I guess it is no surprise that states with more rural and less urban would be safer to walk in.   Cram more people and cars into smaller spaces and the interactions between the two groups will have a higher percentage of ugly results.  Why then does the State of New York come in at a lofty 39th?  No place is more crowded than New York City.  Throw in all the other urban areas in that state and I would have expected New York to be at least breathing down Florida's neck for the top spot.   I guess there might be something to the notion that New Yorkers are born street smart. 

I've been to New York City many times.  Only once did I come close to taking out a pedestrian.  Matter of fact it would have been a three-fer.  But I went on auto pilot and stopped inches from rolling over a very big black woman with a child clutched in each meaty hand.  She stepped back from the front of my GMC tractor trailer, looked up at me with eyes the size of pie plates.  I looked down at her with my pie plate eyes.  A scowl came across her face and she screamed, "Fucking Asshole", then proceeded to continue her Jay Walk across the street, dragging her scared shitless children behind her.  I will admit I checked my drawers when I finished the 6 blocks left to the Bronx Food Market.

47,700 plus pedestrians have been mowed down by cars, trucks, buses, motorcycles, or bikes between 2000 and 2009.   That breaks down to almost 5000 people a year. The article goes on to say that while automobile deaths have dropped dramatically, drops in pedestrian deaths have not enjoyed a similar decline.  The pedestrian death rate is hardly chump change when compared to other causes of death in this country.   But in the hierarchy of what we die from, getting nailed by a moving vehicle is just another hazard of living in an increasingly crowded country.

Later..............................................
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 Image from "I don't Brake for Nuns"

Not too Sexy for their Shirts

Portland, Maine has recently been highlighted by several magazines as a wonderful place to live.  GQ Online added Portland to their "Coolest small Cities" list back in November, 2010.   Forbes Magazine rated Portland their number one most livable city in April of 2009.  And finally, Outside Magazine rated Portland as the best over all city in the East for outside living in 2010.

Portland is a great little city.  I have had many good times there.  As a mountain biker, I am always impressed with the trail network the local cyclists have managed to find and connect not very far from the city center.  Casco Bay is a wonderul body of water and apparently the big Cruise Ships are beginning to agree.  The number of art galleries, artisan shops, and music venues is impressive given the size of the city.  There is lots to do any day of the week. 

The old school atmosphere created by the working waterfront keeps Portland's feet firmly planted in reality.  Any given day you can head to the fish markets and hear the crusty old lobster men cuss and fume over the price of lobsta, halibut, or scrod.  Take a break in one of the local dives and you might even find someone to pick a fight with.  Portland has it all in one small package.  I was once cold cocked by a drunken indian who came out of some bar and hit the first person he came across.  I was maybe 16 and my mom who was with me laid into the guy.  A strange encounter in Portland that has stuck with me all these years. 

So imagine my disappointment when I noticed that Men's Health Magazine just rated Portland the "least sexiest city" in the country.    Least sexy?  What the Hell?

First of all I have no clue what criteria is used to determine "sexiest".  Seems to me, that is one of those notions that relies on personal taste rather than being based on tangible and quantifiable data.  Or is it?  Apparently the creators of this list found the data needed to factually judge the sexiest city which by their standards is Austin, Texas.

The data used is:

• Total Condom Sales (Portland - 95th /100)
• Birth Rates (Portland 95th / 100)
• STD Rates (Portland 100th /100)

I see.  Obviously they have done exhaustive research into this and determined that the city with the most drippy faucets, the most pockets packed with condoms and toss in the highest birthrate, that means that town knows how to party hardy 'tween the sheets.

Maybe it's just me, but I never found condoms to be the least bit sexy.  Nothing dampens the moment more than a last minute errand to the local pharmacy for a hoodie.  Though I never picked up any STDs, I imagine that showing up bed side with the faucet running cannot be that much of a turn on.  And please, the only real sexy thing about birth is the initiation process.  Birth is beautiful but certainly not sexy.

All in all, I would say Portland is at the right end of this list.

Later................................

Been avoiding this blog the last few days.  Not sure why.  Maybe it has something to do with not having anything on my mind but mundane issues like the roof, the trim on the eaves, and other boring homeowner concerns.  Well, the roof is basically done and now I can move to the next chore on the list that goes on into infinity and beyond. 

I would comment on the recent elections but I am exhausted and pissed off.  This country does not seem to want to do anything but ask for immediate fixes by kicking out experienced help and replacing it with new unexperienced help.  And that's fine.  Maybe it will wake up both parties to the reality that being complacent is not going to work anymore.  And maybe if Obama does not have his party at his back with the power of a majority, he might just show us some of the sand he insinuated when running for office.

I don't regret voting for him.  He was and still is the best pick of the litter we had back in 08.  I did not expect him to have things fixed, just progress on fixing them.  For a variety of reasons, he and his party have disappointed me.  The lack of intestinal fortitude being highest on my list.

So I refrain from venting my spleen as we countdown to election time.  I have accepted the notion that my state will most likely have a poor governor once again.  If either party's offering wins, that is what we will have.  I have decided to vote for the dark horse just because I cannot give my vote to the front runners.

So just call this a a post to keep the process moving along.  I'll be back with something more when I can.

Spin Cycle

While the washing machine is chasing out all the grunge, mud, and grit from my bike shop clothes and my riding duds, I figured I had a few minutes to sit down and waste some bandwidth.  There is either not much on my mind or there is so much crammed in there, all I hear is a dull roar as all those things needing my attention scream, holler, and stamp their feet in a vain attempt to get my attention.

Ferchrisakes, calm down.  And you there, yeah you, the returns I need to get to UPS.  Stop pouting.  You'll be on your way back from whence you came by day's end. 

I know, I know.  Yard, you have been ignored in recent weeks.  Hey, it's not my fault.  The weather wasn't cooperating there for awhile and well now, I'm busier than a .............Well you know what I mean.  I'll be out trimming you back and rubbing you down this weekend................I promise.

What's that?

Oh, you don't believe me.

Well get in line.  And here's a quarter to call someone who gives a shit.

Everything in it's own time........Well Geez guys, riled all of you up with that one.  You need to talk one at a time or I just cannot deal with you.  All you irritating duties and chores will continue to suck hind tit while I try to keep the madness at bay down to the bike shop if you don't cool your jets.  So be quiet and I might get some of you out of the way.  Or keep whining and I will walk around you until Hell freezes over.  Your choice.

Ah, that's better.  Now see.  When everyone quiets down I can almost single out one of you to dance with.

Damn.  It's a bitch being popular. 

What, No Check?

sunshine, my favorite lady Canadian, has decided to pay me back for some perceived quality she has managed to find in the mish mash I call my blog. Even though she is from north of the border, it is impossible for me to not like her. For one thing she isn't planning on sneaking down here and taking that job down to McDonalds away from me for a quarter less an hour. Hmm. I wonder maybe what with things all gone to shit here in the US, maybe she should be concerned about me sneaking north.

Blog awards are funny things. I never know just how to handle them. Now if they came with a check for a million bucks, I might be able to figure out a proper response. Yeah, if a fancy chauffeur driven car rolled to a stop out in the dooryard and some fancy panted fellow wearing wing tips and a big city power tie got out with one of those Golf Tournament checks you can read from 100 yards, well, I would probably make sure I had some clothes on when I opened the door.

Out of respect for sunshine and her odd opinion of my blog, I made sure I put some duds on before I sat down to type my thank you.

Unfortunately when I woke up this morning, I woke up goofy. Not even close to alert. Serious intake of caffeine has not remedied my befuddled condition. And since I no longer partake of illegal substances like I used to, I know now I will just have spend this day in a fog.

The World still spins out of control, garbage is still picked up, and the post office is always busy screwing up my mail no matter what frame of mind I find myself in. Duties and obligations are there whether I am bright eyed and bushy tailed or barely alive like I feel this morning. sunshine's kindness deserves timely response and action. So, thanks much sunshine.

Here's the part where I try to meet the requirements of accepting this award. I need to share seven things about myself you might not know.

1 - Contrary to rumor and innuendo, I am indeed a homo sapien. I know sometimes I give the wrong impression, but well hey, I gotta be me.

2 - Under the all the fur, the puffy epidermis and rolls of extraneous lard, I am indeed one handsome devil.

3 - Briefs - Why? Never thought it important enough to wonder why. Now maybe I should. Will my life reach new heights should I switch to boxer mode? Somehow I think that train left the station some time ago.

4 - I have met 2 US Presidents. Kennedy, the last summer before he died up to Mt Desert Isle in Maine. Bush the elder in Kennebunkport, Maine. Gave him a tour of the house next to his.

5 - I gave shit to Reggie Jackson in an elevator in Detroit once. Given how big he was and how small I was and the fact we were in an elevator, not the smartest thing I ever did.

6 - I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Not even close.

7 - My first rock n roll gig as a driver was in Baltimore in 1972. The moving company I worked for that summer received an emergency shout out from the folks who ran Memorial Stadium, then home of the Baltimore Orioles. Seems they had some gala country and western show planned to fill the void between the games of a double header. The morning of the event thinking they had all the details covered, someone pointed out they had no stage. WTF? Anyway, I was tasked with driving a flatbed onto the infield and parking it between home and the pitcher's mound. The Country Singers and Swingers did their thing and I hung out feeling really cool. Little did I know, this would be my life on a daily basis in a few years. I remember the head groundskeeper was not happy. He told me if I left one tire dent in "his" ball field, I would go home nutless. The O's split the double header with the Red Sox.

So there it is. Seven things. And seriously sunshine - Thank You.

The Useless Week

For some reason I enjoy the period after Christmas much better than the run up to Christmas. This kind of useless week where most everyone is not involved in the normal activities that make up most of their year. I always seem to feel as if some weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I have done what I have done for the year and now I am just coasting in for the finish. Nothing I do will make my year worse just as nothing I do will salvage anything I did wrong. A week of capitulation to the recent past I guess. All I know is I feel less stress during this week than any other I can think of.

This year has been a particularily tough one to deal with. Health issues, business issues, and the personal fires that seemed to crown recently will cause me to remember 2008 with less than a fond frame of mind. There is no one thing or person I could lay blame to for this year I would just as soon forget. Negative things happened and I did not respond as well to them as I should have.

So moving on is all there is to do. Making plans to handle Life better next year than I did this year. And that is what I use this useless week for. Considering what went wrong, what went right in this year, and then coming up with an idea of how to proceed for the next 365 days. After 56 plus years on this planet, I have learned to not plan for more than I can possibly handle. I always make generic resolutions. Ones that if accomplished address my manner of living rather than my specific issues of living. Realistic improvements that can make the difference between a good year and a bad year.

But maybe I should step out of my comfort zone. Considering the forgetable year I just had, maybe resolutions with more bite, more specifics might be something to shoot for in 2009. The problem is when I do that and fail, as I always seem to, I add more guilt to a mind riddled with it already. But maybe this year I need to take that chance. I know my wife would love to know there is more of a plan than "I will try to do better." Shit, I know I would feel better right now, if I had more of a plan.

So, in order to come up with a plan for 2009 and rise to my first challenge (by Dawn of MDI) I will call January 2009, "My resolution Month". Dawn has asked me to join her in one of the "post every day for a month things". "NaBloPoMo" it is called. So even if I do not have something to post about, I will at least post one resolution every day of the month. At this point, I have no rules about what to resolve, but I will at the end of the first month of 2009 have 31 resolutions to work on. With that many on tap, I am bound to hit a few out of the ball park.

Lists

# 1- The Problem Exposed

I have lived by the list at the left for most of my life. It has gotten me this far somehow. Everything I do seems to be aimed at making it through another day with limbs intact, brain intact, and spirit intact. I am not always successful. Even this simple list is hard for me to keep sometimes. Other variables, but more often than not, my scattered brain tends to make even these simple rules more complex than they need to be.

I have made a decision. That even old dogs or wannabe old dogs like me can learn new tricks. Up to this point in my life, being the loose dog with too many things in the air at once needs some adjustment. I have attempted in the past to rectify what I see as too much time in neutral while I decide which fire to put out. I will now make another attempt. I'm primed. I am in need. And well, I would like to surprise and awe some of the people I interact with on a day to day basis. My wife being number one on that list.

I admire my wife. She has the ability to organize her time and efforts so that maximum production is achieved out of maximum effort. A kind of highly tuned, supercharged, turbo equipped mentality that starts the day hot and ends the same way. Me, well, I am like an old Mack Truck with 175HP Thermodyne diesel motor that struggles up every hill and screams down the other side. I'm the truck truck lanes were meant for. Sometimes I cannot get out of my own way. My brain is always freighted.

My efforts will be aimed at tweaking my almost perfect personality(ahem) by bringing everything that is me into harmony with the kharmic interludes of character and soul and other New (now old news) Age type touchy feely, we are all bozos on this bus mentalities. My Ying will no longer play second fiddle to my Yang. To do this I must first cast aside my hitherto free range methods of task completion and seek some alternative and more rigid procedures so as to bring Mike back down to Earth on a more regular basis. Once I have properly secured myself into this dimension, I can finally move forward.

A Step in the Right Direction?

Making Lists and sticking to them.

Okay now what? I have made lists before and I always seem to forget them as my day progresses and I end up dealing with the squeaky wheels as they pop up. The pre-emptive advantage a list would have if followed is incalculable. The satisfaction (having felt the pleasure of it once) of checking off something as soon as it is complete has to be better than or equal to, uh , okay it probably is not equal to. But striking through a to do list from start to finish has to feel good. As good as anything you can do by yourself can feel I guess.

So here is my first list after realizing all the previous ones were just practice, I was just kidding lists.

Wait a minute. I need to organize how, what type, and how often I list things. Chronologically or by importance and relevance? Daily or weekly/ Or Both with one being a sublist of the weekly list? I must first organize my concerns and wants as to what will be deemed worthy of my list. So I guess I need to make a Pre-List. And list those concerns and desires that will ultimately make up the Main List that runs my life from here on out. The importance of getting the Main List right puts more pressure on what and how I handle the pressures of the Pre-List.

Wow. Now there are two lists to compose before I can even think of checking anything off of either. This getting my shit together thing is some complicated and intimidating. Yet I know I must try. Too many loose ends pop up and I am frankly tired of having nothing but loose ends to straighten out. Although anyone looking for a good loose end guy, I am the man.

The know it all and the share it all experts of the World Wide Web will certainly be some brains to pick. Even if I don't follow the free advice, maybe some insights of the List Gurus will jog me into creating something that works for me. So the first thing on my Pre-List is to do some research and see what the great Google says. In the meantime, I will continue to: