Well, I’ve gotten out of the habit of writing so I’m sitting here and am going to force myself to bang out something. It’s not that there’s nothing going on, it’s just that I haven’t really felt like writing lately. Well, for posterity’s sake, here’s what’s up.
It’s Sunday about 4:30 pm as I write this. I’m still on the program of dieting and working out. In fact, after being at a plateau of about 294 for 2 weeks, I broke through and lost 4 lbs this past week. I have just completed my 8th week on the “Body For Life” program and have lost a total of 23 lbs. I feel powerful and even my shoulder is beginning to feel better. It’s still stiff and has little ROM but I don’t feel so debilitated all the time anymore. Maybe I’ll yet get myself to 400 lbs on the bench press. I’m also still dieting and have by and large been a good boy on the diet discipline with the regimen of small meals and shakes. I think Robbie has totally and completely fallen off the wagon judging by his less and less frequent entries on our Coopbros web log. Oh well, he wasn’t nearly as much of a fatass as I was so he didn’t need it as badly as I did. I’m not going to indulge any schadenfreude with my little brother either.
As far as what’s new, I got a new tattoo this morning. I fulfilled a long-held promise and got “Courtney” chiseled into my left upper arm. It’s spelled out in black (Zamfino script) with purple shading. I like it; it’s my third tat and it is now incontrovertible that slipping further and further into crackerdom because, in addition to my new ink, I started growing a beard 3 weeks ago. It’s a chin beard and gives me a little bit of a “headbangers ball” look. I don’t know if this’ll help or hurt my sales but at this point I really don’t give a shit. I have had the same look for longer than I can remember. I haven’t even changed my hairstyle in the past 20 years so it’s kinda cool to look in the mirror now and see something different.
Dad has been spending 2 days a week in San Antonio for the past few weeks and says he’ll keep doing this until we turn this ship around. By “turn the ship around” I mean with regard to sales and number of leads. I’m both happy and pissed about it. I LOVE that he seems to finally be paying attention to us down here but I’m honestly uncomfortable spending so much time in his spotlight. Oh well, there are very few unmixed blessings in life once you get get out of the nest, so I’ll smile and just call this one mostly good. We have been marketing like crazy, making cold calls on inspectors and (of late) remodeling contractors. We bought a bunch of baskets and I’m going to fill them with fruit and take them to the biggest of the bigshots in residential real estate with cards congratulating them for making the SA Business Journal’s top 10. We’ll see what comes of it. We’re also running the television commercials again in this market. Both my next-door neighbor and one of Courtney’s friend’s dad have told me that they‘ve seen it. Funny thing is that neither me nor Erica nor the girls have ever seen it as we have satellite instead of Time Warner Cable. Oh well, I might start getting the big head if I saw myself on TV.
That’s about it as far as what’s new. Oh, Courtney started practice for her Spring soccer season a few weeks ago and they should have their first game this coming weekend.
That’s all for now. Gotta go figure what we’re going to do for dinner.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Gen. Vassili Chuikov
He was the Soviet commander during the battle of Stalingrad. That battle’s always fascinated me; hell, he’s always fascinated me.
Chuikov was probably under more pressure than any other human being ever during that battle. He suffered nervous eczema and his hands bled so badly at that time that he had to keep them continuously bandaged. I’ve seen photos of him at his desk (usually in some bombed out building or hole in the ground) with his hands wrapped in seeping pustulent wrappings. When told by Zhukov of the unhappy fate of the previous commander and that Stalin had chosen him to lead the defense of that besieged city he replied “we will defend the city or die here.” And they held. With often nothing more than few rationed bullets and their balls, the Russians under Chuikov held the line. They harassed, bogged down, stalemated and eventually set the stage for the defeat of Hitler’s Sixth Army when Zhukov led a counterattack across the frozen Volga later that winter.
That battle was the lynchpin, the very fulcrum, of World War II. The Russians smashed Von Paulus’ vaunted Sixth Army and even took him captive. Though there was still plenty fight left in the Wehrmacht, the Battle of Stalingrad irrevocably changed the course of the war and placed the Germans, who had previously run rampant across great swaths of Europe and Africa, permanently on the defensive. And it was mostly due to the incredibly tenacious resistance offered by Chuikov’s men in that hell on earth called Stalingrad. Stalin (who was many things but not a fool) rewarded this most able and resourceful commander by allowing his men to be the first into Berlin, thus bringing the curtain down on the war.
God, what a man. What fucking stamina and courage it must have taken to see him through those dark days, squatting in cold basements barking orders into the radio, imploring his men to hold. Hold! even though they were cold and short of food and ammo. Hold! even though the Germans had them pinned against the west bank of the river and were throwing everything they had at him in a murderous fury. Hold! even though he knew that Zhukov was purposely keeping his supply and reinforcements at a trickle to keep the Germans from discovering his own forces massing on the Volga’s east bank.
How did he do it? How did he not sink into depression and neurosis under that incredible stress? God, what steel he had in him. I don’t know how he died but I hope he was given a hero’s burial because he earned it . . . in spades.
I wonder if in his rare quiet moments Chuikov ever wondered at the fate that had swept him away from whatever life a peacetime Red Army officer had into the terrible maelstrom of Stalingrad. I wonder how often he pined for quiet moments with his wife and children during the brief lulls in battle.
There is nothing in my life that I have ever gone through, or ever will go through, that can begin to remotely compare to Stalingrad. But, in a way, the comparison does apply.
My dad was down earlier yesteday and met with me and my other salesmen. We discussed the market and its limitations. We discussed how San Antonio is a poorer city than Austin and that it's tougher to make money here as we don't have so damned many Dell employees with six figures in their 401k's to fight over. Dad's response was to talk about military leaders which I suppose he knows is the best way to get through to me. His favorite leaders to use as examples are Confederate commanders Stonewall Jackson and Nathan Bedford Forrest. Stern commanders whose men would follow them into the fires of hell, not becaiuse they offered them comfort or ease but because they could offer them victory.
Chuikov was probably under more pressure than any other human being ever during that battle. He suffered nervous eczema and his hands bled so badly at that time that he had to keep them continuously bandaged. I’ve seen photos of him at his desk (usually in some bombed out building or hole in the ground) with his hands wrapped in seeping pustulent wrappings. When told by Zhukov of the unhappy fate of the previous commander and that Stalin had chosen him to lead the defense of that besieged city he replied “we will defend the city or die here.” And they held. With often nothing more than few rationed bullets and their balls, the Russians under Chuikov held the line. They harassed, bogged down, stalemated and eventually set the stage for the defeat of Hitler’s Sixth Army when Zhukov led a counterattack across the frozen Volga later that winter.
That battle was the lynchpin, the very fulcrum, of World War II. The Russians smashed Von Paulus’ vaunted Sixth Army and even took him captive. Though there was still plenty fight left in the Wehrmacht, the Battle of Stalingrad irrevocably changed the course of the war and placed the Germans, who had previously run rampant across great swaths of Europe and Africa, permanently on the defensive. And it was mostly due to the incredibly tenacious resistance offered by Chuikov’s men in that hell on earth called Stalingrad. Stalin (who was many things but not a fool) rewarded this most able and resourceful commander by allowing his men to be the first into Berlin, thus bringing the curtain down on the war.
God, what a man. What fucking stamina and courage it must have taken to see him through those dark days, squatting in cold basements barking orders into the radio, imploring his men to hold. Hold! even though they were cold and short of food and ammo. Hold! even though the Germans had them pinned against the west bank of the river and were throwing everything they had at him in a murderous fury. Hold! even though he knew that Zhukov was purposely keeping his supply and reinforcements at a trickle to keep the Germans from discovering his own forces massing on the Volga’s east bank.
How did he do it? How did he not sink into depression and neurosis under that incredible stress? God, what steel he had in him. I don’t know how he died but I hope he was given a hero’s burial because he earned it . . . in spades.
I wonder if in his rare quiet moments Chuikov ever wondered at the fate that had swept him away from whatever life a peacetime Red Army officer had into the terrible maelstrom of Stalingrad. I wonder how often he pined for quiet moments with his wife and children during the brief lulls in battle.
There is nothing in my life that I have ever gone through, or ever will go through, that can begin to remotely compare to Stalingrad. But, in a way, the comparison does apply.
My dad was down earlier yesteday and met with me and my other salesmen. We discussed the market and its limitations. We discussed how San Antonio is a poorer city than Austin and that it's tougher to make money here as we don't have so damned many Dell employees with six figures in their 401k's to fight over. Dad's response was to talk about military leaders which I suppose he knows is the best way to get through to me. His favorite leaders to use as examples are Confederate commanders Stonewall Jackson and Nathan Bedford Forrest. Stern commanders whose men would follow them into the fires of hell, not becaiuse they offered them comfort or ease but because they could offer them victory.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Rainy Tuesday
Don't have a hell of a lot to write about today. Again, I'll just bang a stream of consciousness on the keyboard and see if what emerges is coherent or not.
Courtney had her first practice of the season for soccer last night. She was excited to begin again and couldn't wait even for practice to start again. That's my girl! She was moaning about it when we got home - her feet and legs hurt - but I reminded her how her legs hurt when she first started last fall too.
I am trying to kick myself in the butt and get the ball rolling again on the investing. I have let this collect too much dust and a lot of people are bugging me to start again. I heard from Mitch the other day about a house we're working on together and he told me that the mortgager is finally talking to him. That's good. Robbie's also chomping at the bit to get into it himself so I need to do this to be an example to him. Plus, hey, I need the money.
Well, dad was supposed to be here this morning but he called me early this morning and told me that he was having kidney pain so he couldn't come. I want him to be here tomorrow though. I want him to see my Toastmaster club.
Rainy as hell today and 2 of my 3 appointments have already cancelled. I guess I'll work on these houses I'm looking at for investments or go buy a few boxes of Krispy Kremes and go cold-calling. No, I won't eat any of them.
I'm still working out and dieting. People are now starting to comment how loose my clothes are on me, too. And though I didn't weigh myself this past Saturday (we were coming home from Billy's funeral) I would imagine that I've lost about 20 lbs or so.
Courtney had her first practice of the season for soccer last night. She was excited to begin again and couldn't wait even for practice to start again. That's my girl! She was moaning about it when we got home - her feet and legs hurt - but I reminded her how her legs hurt when she first started last fall too.
I am trying to kick myself in the butt and get the ball rolling again on the investing. I have let this collect too much dust and a lot of people are bugging me to start again. I heard from Mitch the other day about a house we're working on together and he told me that the mortgager is finally talking to him. That's good. Robbie's also chomping at the bit to get into it himself so I need to do this to be an example to him. Plus, hey, I need the money.
Well, dad was supposed to be here this morning but he called me early this morning and told me that he was having kidney pain so he couldn't come. I want him to be here tomorrow though. I want him to see my Toastmaster club.
Rainy as hell today and 2 of my 3 appointments have already cancelled. I guess I'll work on these houses I'm looking at for investments or go buy a few boxes of Krispy Kremes and go cold-calling. No, I won't eat any of them.
I'm still working out and dieting. People are now starting to comment how loose my clothes are on me, too. And though I didn't weigh myself this past Saturday (we were coming home from Billy's funeral) I would imagine that I've lost about 20 lbs or so.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Sunday thoughts
I don't have a clear about what I'm going to write about so I'm just going to bang on the keys and see what comes out.
First of all, Erica and I went to my Uncle Billy's funeral yesterday in Houston. I hate funerals - hell, who doesn't? - but this one was beautiful. I didn't really know Billy all that well; he and Aunt Joyce were married for 10 years and though I love Aunt Joyce (my mom's big sister) I only see her about twice a year. Nevertheless, I liked Billy. He was the kind of guy who always had a warm smile and handshake for anyone who crossed his path. I think it was Will Rogers who said "I never met a man I didn't like" and Billy was the same way. Everybody liked him, even people who didn't really know him all that well. He was just that kind of guy.
The funeral was beautiful. Billy was loved by a great many people and they all showed up to pay their respects. The preacher at the church (a small Methodist church in Humble) was either very gifted or inspired by the occasion. Billy's fellow Masons even did their own poignant ritual that I enjoyed. A very emotional and proper sendoff for a great guy. May God bless my Aunt Joyce, all of Billy's family and all else who knew and loved him.
We rented and watched a really cool movie last night. At least, I thought it was cool, Erica hated it. The movie was Lost in Translation by Sofia Coppola. I'm not a movie critic so I'll just say what I liked about it. First of all, having Bill Murray play a sad and doleful version of himself was a masterstroke. Secondly, I've never heard of Scarlet Johannson before but I expect that we'll will be seeing more of her in the future because her performance in this movie was wonderful.
I liked what the movie does with silences, the meaningful glances that are - and are not - exchanged between the two. I liked how the movie pivoted as much on what was NOT said or done as what was. For instance, Johannson is very beautiful, with full lips and sloe-gin eyes. Bill Murray of course isn't, however as a much older man, one would almost expect a romantic liason to develop between the two. After all, they're both adrift in a foreign city (Tokyo) that they hate and have no one else to turn to for company except each other.
The sexual attraction between the two is like a low current that permeates and runs through the movie like static electricity on a winter day. It doesn't really charge the movie but it's always there. But - and this is why I liked the movie - they didn't do anything about it. Their attraction or love for each other was never consummated. It was left hanging there unresolved and the movie was better for it. I also liked the pitch perfect ending with Bill Murray whispering something (we're not allowed to hear) in Johannson's ear as he bids her goodbye. I liked it. I liked it a lot. It made me think and inspired me to write.
I think one thing Coppolla is saying with Lost in Translation is that there are more important things, and better things, than fucking. Having both end up romping in the sheets would have been easy for her as it's an ending that we've all seen before. I was half expecting and dreading that possibility. But . . . it would have also been a betrayal, both of the characters and the movie itself. A very good, hell possibly a great movie.
We all went to La Posada for dinner earlier this evening. "We all" means me, Erica, Courtney, Megan and Meg's friend Clifton. Now, it's 8:00 pm and everyone, plus Megan's friend Kayla now, are giggling in the kitchen. I love it when she stays in and brings friends over. She's a teenager and I of course can't insist that she do every night - her social life would die - but I like it when it just happens. She is such a good kid.
I am loving this Yahoo DSL. I love this feature where you can listen to internet radio stations too. With the DSL connections, the feed doesn't buffer nearly as much as a dial up radio connection. Right now, I'm listening to "Hits of 25 years ago" and the song that's on is "Promises" by Eric Clapton. 70's ubercrooner Gino Vanelli's "I Just Wanna Stop" just, well, stopped. What a great song. There's like 100 other stations that I can listen to when I inevitably tire of songs from 1979. But first, "Fire" by the Pointer Sisters . . .
First of all, Erica and I went to my Uncle Billy's funeral yesterday in Houston. I hate funerals - hell, who doesn't? - but this one was beautiful. I didn't really know Billy all that well; he and Aunt Joyce were married for 10 years and though I love Aunt Joyce (my mom's big sister) I only see her about twice a year. Nevertheless, I liked Billy. He was the kind of guy who always had a warm smile and handshake for anyone who crossed his path. I think it was Will Rogers who said "I never met a man I didn't like" and Billy was the same way. Everybody liked him, even people who didn't really know him all that well. He was just that kind of guy.
The funeral was beautiful. Billy was loved by a great many people and they all showed up to pay their respects. The preacher at the church (a small Methodist church in Humble) was either very gifted or inspired by the occasion. Billy's fellow Masons even did their own poignant ritual that I enjoyed. A very emotional and proper sendoff for a great guy. May God bless my Aunt Joyce, all of Billy's family and all else who knew and loved him.
We rented and watched a really cool movie last night. At least, I thought it was cool, Erica hated it. The movie was Lost in Translation by Sofia Coppola. I'm not a movie critic so I'll just say what I liked about it. First of all, having Bill Murray play a sad and doleful version of himself was a masterstroke. Secondly, I've never heard of Scarlet Johannson before but I expect that we'll will be seeing more of her in the future because her performance in this movie was wonderful.
I liked what the movie does with silences, the meaningful glances that are - and are not - exchanged between the two. I liked how the movie pivoted as much on what was NOT said or done as what was. For instance, Johannson is very beautiful, with full lips and sloe-gin eyes. Bill Murray of course isn't, however as a much older man, one would almost expect a romantic liason to develop between the two. After all, they're both adrift in a foreign city (Tokyo) that they hate and have no one else to turn to for company except each other.
The sexual attraction between the two is like a low current that permeates and runs through the movie like static electricity on a winter day. It doesn't really charge the movie but it's always there. But - and this is why I liked the movie - they didn't do anything about it. Their attraction or love for each other was never consummated. It was left hanging there unresolved and the movie was better for it. I also liked the pitch perfect ending with Bill Murray whispering something (we're not allowed to hear) in Johannson's ear as he bids her goodbye. I liked it. I liked it a lot. It made me think and inspired me to write.
I think one thing Coppolla is saying with Lost in Translation is that there are more important things, and better things, than fucking. Having both end up romping in the sheets would have been easy for her as it's an ending that we've all seen before. I was half expecting and dreading that possibility. But . . . it would have also been a betrayal, both of the characters and the movie itself. A very good, hell possibly a great movie.
We all went to La Posada for dinner earlier this evening. "We all" means me, Erica, Courtney, Megan and Meg's friend Clifton. Now, it's 8:00 pm and everyone, plus Megan's friend Kayla now, are giggling in the kitchen. I love it when she stays in and brings friends over. She's a teenager and I of course can't insist that she do every night - her social life would die - but I like it when it just happens. She is such a good kid.
I am loving this Yahoo DSL. I love this feature where you can listen to internet radio stations too. With the DSL connections, the feed doesn't buffer nearly as much as a dial up radio connection. Right now, I'm listening to "Hits of 25 years ago" and the song that's on is "Promises" by Eric Clapton. 70's ubercrooner Gino Vanelli's "I Just Wanna Stop" just, well, stopped. What a great song. There's like 100 other stations that I can listen to when I inevitably tire of songs from 1979. But first, "Fire" by the Pointer Sisters . . .
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Stress
Just got a BBB notice in the mail advising of a complaint against us by a customer. We were supposed to send a crew to repair sheetrock cracks in her house but as usual, after I requested the crew to come down from Austin, the main Austin foreman began to put me off with excuses about how he couldn't spare them. I asked my Op manager to stay on top of this and she didn't. Now, I've got this damned complaint to deal with. Shit.
I hate it when I feel like I have to do all the thinking around here.
I hate it when I feel like I have to do all the thinking around here.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
After the Icebreaker
I gave my Icebreaker speech this morning to the Toastmasters group. I got a lot of really good feedback from them too. Good feedback as in positive feedback. Everybody went ooh and awww when I showed them the portrait of Megan and Courtney too. It was a pretty good speech too, and I don't mind saying so. The only criticisms I got were one from Mona, when she told me to watch my volume (implying that I was either too loud or too quiet, I don't know) and I think one from George when he told me to be careful not to turn my back to the audience. Dana reviewed the speech for me and was generally positive, which I really appreciate. I've seen her review others and I know that she's really detailed and not afraid to say it if someone does something wrong. All in all, I was really happy at how well I pulled it off. I was as nervous as a whore in church when I started but once I began, it all flowed automatically.
I talked with Bill afterward and he's really nervous about beginning the program. I told him that this is all about getting outside the box. About challenging himself to do things that may make him uncomfortable. About growth. I reassured him that, as good of a salesman as he is, that he'll be a natural speechmaker. He just needs a little self-confidence.
I talked with Bill afterward and he's really nervous about beginning the program. I told him that this is all about getting outside the box. About challenging himself to do things that may make him uncomfortable. About growth. I reassured him that, as good of a salesman as he is, that he'll be a natural speechmaker. He just needs a little self-confidence.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Icebreaker
Good morning everyone.
This is my first speech, my “Icebreaker.” You know, every time I’m asked to talk about myself I tend to either get tongue-tied or to drone on endlessly. So I thought that the best way to give you all a snapshot of myself would be to talk about what motivates me, what makes me tick. And for me, that’s summed up in one word: DUTY.
Like all of us in this room, one of the main duties in my life is my career. I won’t bore you all with the ins and outs of foundation repair but just know that it isn’t a particularly easy or fun business to be in right now. Changes in economic conditions over the past four years have affected the market so profoundly that almost half of the contractors who bought ads in the 1998 yellow pages are no longer in business. I used to joke that business was so good back them that all any contractor had to do to make money was walk out of his office, hold out his hands and signed contracts would fall into his hands.
No more.
The market’s different now. Heck, the world’s different. Being that we were faced with two choices - adapt or die - we decided to adapt. The contractors who stuck up their noses at marketing for business went the way of the dinosaur. To stay competitive, we cut our prices and costs to the bone and sank every available dime into advertising. We run commercials and do cold calls. I knock on the doors of realtors, inspectors, builders and appraiser daily just to get the word out for the company. And it can be frustrating. Every time you knock on a door, you risk having that door slammed in your face. But it pays off over the long haul. It makes a difference and that is this: no one in this industry is living high right now. But whereas some of my competition – the ones who got really rich and lazy in the fat days of the late 90s – have enough business to run only 2 crews between here and Austin, I have 4 crews working San Antonio only. We run 12 crews in Austin. We are like blind men trying to feel our way in a dark room. We’re reinventing the market for foundation repair and I guarantee you all that Centex House Leveling will emerge on top once the new order shakes itself out.
But as much as I like to talk about work, ultimately that’s only how I make a buck. It’s not my most sacred duty; it doesn’t define me as a man. Let me show you what really makes my heart beat. Or rather, let me show you WHO makes my heart beat . . .
UNVEIL PORTRAIT OF MY GIRLS
Meet my daughters Megan and Courtney. This portrait is a few years old. Megan is now 17 years old and in the middle of her junior year at MacArthur High School and Courtney is 8 and in the middle of 3rd grade.
Megan was 5 when her mother and I met and 7 when we got married. Though I’m admittedly biased on this matter, I can say that she’s a good kid. No, she’s a great kid, better than I was and certainly better than I deserve. Though she’s not the greatest driver in the world (what teenager is?) she has a good and kind heart. Megan is golden. She excels in everything she does and is just one of those blessed types who seem to glide between the raindrops of life. May that always be so.
The little one here is my daughter Courtney. Courtney owns me.
There is no more sacred duty in the world than parenthood, and there is no greater blessing to a man than to have a daughter. I’ve always said that little girls are God’s most precious gifts and she is definitely mine. But in a lot of ways, she’s like night and day from her big sister. Whereas Megan really isn’t the athletic type, Courtney is always outside jumping on the trampoline or kicking a soccer ball around the yard. In fact, she’s about to begin her second soccer season this month and I can tell you that she’s almost as excited about it as her mom and I are.
These are my main duties in life, both merely important and sacred. In conclusion, I can say that though my pockets would be empty if I didn’t have my job, my soul would be empty without my wife and girls. They are my duty. They give my life purpose, direction and meaning. They are the reason I get out of bed early every morning, put my shoulder against the plow and push. They are the reason I work so hard to make my life and their lives better and they are ultimately the reason I am here talking to you this morning.
This is my first speech, my “Icebreaker.” You know, every time I’m asked to talk about myself I tend to either get tongue-tied or to drone on endlessly. So I thought that the best way to give you all a snapshot of myself would be to talk about what motivates me, what makes me tick. And for me, that’s summed up in one word: DUTY.
Like all of us in this room, one of the main duties in my life is my career. I won’t bore you all with the ins and outs of foundation repair but just know that it isn’t a particularly easy or fun business to be in right now. Changes in economic conditions over the past four years have affected the market so profoundly that almost half of the contractors who bought ads in the 1998 yellow pages are no longer in business. I used to joke that business was so good back them that all any contractor had to do to make money was walk out of his office, hold out his hands and signed contracts would fall into his hands.
No more.
The market’s different now. Heck, the world’s different. Being that we were faced with two choices - adapt or die - we decided to adapt. The contractors who stuck up their noses at marketing for business went the way of the dinosaur. To stay competitive, we cut our prices and costs to the bone and sank every available dime into advertising. We run commercials and do cold calls. I knock on the doors of realtors, inspectors, builders and appraiser daily just to get the word out for the company. And it can be frustrating. Every time you knock on a door, you risk having that door slammed in your face. But it pays off over the long haul. It makes a difference and that is this: no one in this industry is living high right now. But whereas some of my competition – the ones who got really rich and lazy in the fat days of the late 90s – have enough business to run only 2 crews between here and Austin, I have 4 crews working San Antonio only. We run 12 crews in Austin. We are like blind men trying to feel our way in a dark room. We’re reinventing the market for foundation repair and I guarantee you all that Centex House Leveling will emerge on top once the new order shakes itself out.
But as much as I like to talk about work, ultimately that’s only how I make a buck. It’s not my most sacred duty; it doesn’t define me as a man. Let me show you what really makes my heart beat. Or rather, let me show you WHO makes my heart beat . . .
UNVEIL PORTRAIT OF MY GIRLS
Meet my daughters Megan and Courtney. This portrait is a few years old. Megan is now 17 years old and in the middle of her junior year at MacArthur High School and Courtney is 8 and in the middle of 3rd grade.
Megan was 5 when her mother and I met and 7 when we got married. Though I’m admittedly biased on this matter, I can say that she’s a good kid. No, she’s a great kid, better than I was and certainly better than I deserve. Though she’s not the greatest driver in the world (what teenager is?) she has a good and kind heart. Megan is golden. She excels in everything she does and is just one of those blessed types who seem to glide between the raindrops of life. May that always be so.
The little one here is my daughter Courtney. Courtney owns me.
There is no more sacred duty in the world than parenthood, and there is no greater blessing to a man than to have a daughter. I’ve always said that little girls are God’s most precious gifts and she is definitely mine. But in a lot of ways, she’s like night and day from her big sister. Whereas Megan really isn’t the athletic type, Courtney is always outside jumping on the trampoline or kicking a soccer ball around the yard. In fact, she’s about to begin her second soccer season this month and I can tell you that she’s almost as excited about it as her mom and I are.
These are my main duties in life, both merely important and sacred. In conclusion, I can say that though my pockets would be empty if I didn’t have my job, my soul would be empty without my wife and girls. They are my duty. They give my life purpose, direction and meaning. They are the reason I get out of bed early every morning, put my shoulder against the plow and push. They are the reason I work so hard to make my life and their lives better and they are ultimately the reason I am here talking to you this morning.
Time for a post
It's not that there's nothing going on, it's just that I haven't felt like writing lately. Especially after the pity party I threw myself last week. still, it's long past time that I post something so . . . lessee what's going on? Work's slower than hell right now, no surprise for the beginning of February. Bill's in his office right now calling all people he's given estimates to over the past year. It's just tough to sell this time of year.
Erica and her sister are in a big fight about her mother. Erica herself has had more than a few issues with her mom over the years so she knows where Eloiza comes from when she bitches about her. But, whenever Erica had a problem with her, she'd come out and say it to her. This has led to some rather touchy situations in times past, but the storms always blew over and, by and large, we have a good relationship with her. Eloiza on the other hand, is the quiet martyr type. If she's unhappy, she won't say anything about it. She'll just bite it down and grouse about it later. She vents to Erica via email obsessively about her mom (mostly invented complaints like "how dare she complain about her diabetes when she doesn't give a damn about my strained back!" and shit like that). After listening to her "pity poor me, mom ruined my life" from her big sister for about the thousandth time, Erica bit back. I've always told her that her mom deserves to be defended and this time Erica did. She's afraid that she's ruined her relationship with her sister but I don't think it will. She just said some things that everyone else in the family has been thinking for the past few years.
I'm still with the religion of dieting and working out. I haven't missed any workout or cardio days either. My diet's going well and I lost 2 lbs last week so now I'm down to 296. It's testament to what a fat bastard I am to say that I'm "down" to just a hair under 300. This process will take a long time so I'm trying not to get too impatient. Plus, I'm within shouting distance of 40 so it's not like the weight's going to just up and fly off me like it would when I was 20 years younger. From our mutual workout blog, it sounds like Robbie's losing focus with regard to the dieting, though he's training hard in the gym. Oh well, he didn't need to lose as much weight as I did.
I am so bored today that I'm looking at photos of homes for sale in my old neighborhood in Mobile, Alabama on the internet. I am Texan born and bred but I loved Alabama. I always tell people that I'd go back tomorrow if I could find a way to make a buck there.
Erica and her sister are in a big fight about her mother. Erica herself has had more than a few issues with her mom over the years so she knows where Eloiza comes from when she bitches about her. But, whenever Erica had a problem with her, she'd come out and say it to her. This has led to some rather touchy situations in times past, but the storms always blew over and, by and large, we have a good relationship with her. Eloiza on the other hand, is the quiet martyr type. If she's unhappy, she won't say anything about it. She'll just bite it down and grouse about it later. She vents to Erica via email obsessively about her mom (mostly invented complaints like "how dare she complain about her diabetes when she doesn't give a damn about my strained back!" and shit like that). After listening to her "pity poor me, mom ruined my life" from her big sister for about the thousandth time, Erica bit back. I've always told her that her mom deserves to be defended and this time Erica did. She's afraid that she's ruined her relationship with her sister but I don't think it will. She just said some things that everyone else in the family has been thinking for the past few years.
I'm still with the religion of dieting and working out. I haven't missed any workout or cardio days either. My diet's going well and I lost 2 lbs last week so now I'm down to 296. It's testament to what a fat bastard I am to say that I'm "down" to just a hair under 300. This process will take a long time so I'm trying not to get too impatient. Plus, I'm within shouting distance of 40 so it's not like the weight's going to just up and fly off me like it would when I was 20 years younger. From our mutual workout blog, it sounds like Robbie's losing focus with regard to the dieting, though he's training hard in the gym. Oh well, he didn't need to lose as much weight as I did.
I am so bored today that I'm looking at photos of homes for sale in my old neighborhood in Mobile, Alabama on the internet. I am Texan born and bred but I loved Alabama. I always tell people that I'd go back tomorrow if I could find a way to make a buck there.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
The perfect storm
To further elaborate on the pity party that I threw for myself earlier, I have to say that my headache was contributing to my mood more than a little bit. But the essential truth stands and that is this, I'm in a funk.
And I'm not totally cynical and pessimistic all the time but I am often enough that I have to make a conscious decision to fight against it. Only at work though. My joy is still my wife and girls, especially my daughter Courtney.
I spoke with a guy earlier this morning. His name is Chuck and he works for a competitor. Although he is "the opposition" he and I have always had a good relationship and, though I won't hesitate to tell a customer when another contractor is a bandit, I won't slander Chuck or his firm. He's a good guy and his company does good work. They are very worthy competition and I respect him. Anyway, I called him about a mutual customer who has requested proposals from each of us and I wanted to know what he was going to do (the customer has no intention of buying, in my opinion, and only wants my proposal to further his litigation against homebuilder). Anyway, Chuck and I began talking about business and such; he's been in this business like 15 years now and he tells me that he's thinking about getting out. Not only of his job but the business altogether.
Foundation repair, in south Texas at least, is a fundamental business. In other words, it's not glamorous but, like garbage collection and plumbing, it is a necessary service. The soil here is so highly plastic (i.e., it absorbs water and expands) here that it makes homebuilding and buying a real gamble. The reason it's a good business is because leveling a house isn't something a weekend warrior could do either. It requires specialized (and expensive) equipment and a skilled labor force. This is not like painting your house.
Back during the late 90's the business got really fat. A few favorable decisions were rendered by the State Supreme Court which held that, in the instance of an underslab discharge of water (i.e., plumbing leak) foundation repair was covered by the homeowners' policy. This was despite the fact that foundation repair was specifically excluded in the standard policy. It was an outcome-based decision of course, and the conservative in me hated it even if it was good for my dad's company (I didn't yet work here). Well, predictably, insurors began hemorrhaging money on these type of claims and more than a few lawyers got really damned rich pushing foundation claims for people. In the business, it was an orgy. Companies that had existed at a "simmer" found themselves awash in work, and money. New companies, some good and some not, sprungup almost overnight to get in on the action. It was a party and it was fun while it lasted. I know this because I watched it all from the sidelines. I watched my dad go from rags to riches.
Well, like all parties, this one came to an end. The insurance companies began leaving Texas in droves, so much so that the legislature itself felt compelled to get involved to stop the exodus. Those who didn't leave dropped the old policy - the "HO-B" - with the language where the Court "found" foundation repair coverage and issued new policies with language that excluded foundations nine ways to Sunday. Thus far, though I am certainly not in the loop about this type of litigation, the language seems to be watertight. Endorsements are of course being offered that cover foundations, but they're expensive and not a lot of people are buying them. The result was predictable. Foundation repair is expensive with the typical slab repair costing about $10 to $15,000.00. Not exactly pocket change, especially in a relatively poor city like San Antonio. This all began to happen in 2001.
I came to work for this company in February 2001. Two months after I got to Austin to begin my training (Erica and the girls stayed behind in Mobile to let the girls finish school and to sell the house) Dell Computer began shedding jobs. The economy, though not really bad, had been tottering since the Florida recount and most people were whispering that we were overdue for a recession. Michael Dell smelled what was in the air and began to protect his business by cutting costs. This was smart business but it ran a chill over the Austin market. This happened about the same time that the insurance companies began issuing the new policies.
Another ingredient in the mix was that the 10 year drought in South Texas (droughts are extremely bad for foundations and thus good for the foundation repair industry) broke. We had the wettest year in 2 decades in 2001 and lost probably more than 30 days of work because of it.
And, to top off this lovely shit sandwich, the rotten olive on top, the piece de resistance was 9/11. After that, the economy, valiantly holding its own in the face of bad economic news, began to contract painfully. Old skeletons that remained hidden during the flush times of the Clinton boom came dancing out. Companies like Enron and World Com (a major San Antonio employer) went tits-up amid charges of financial irregularities. Trust was lost and hope was broken, especially in this good hearted but essentially poor city.
And I'm not totally cynical and pessimistic all the time but I am often enough that I have to make a conscious decision to fight against it. Only at work though. My joy is still my wife and girls, especially my daughter Courtney.
I spoke with a guy earlier this morning. His name is Chuck and he works for a competitor. Although he is "the opposition" he and I have always had a good relationship and, though I won't hesitate to tell a customer when another contractor is a bandit, I won't slander Chuck or his firm. He's a good guy and his company does good work. They are very worthy competition and I respect him. Anyway, I called him about a mutual customer who has requested proposals from each of us and I wanted to know what he was going to do (the customer has no intention of buying, in my opinion, and only wants my proposal to further his litigation against homebuilder). Anyway, Chuck and I began talking about business and such; he's been in this business like 15 years now and he tells me that he's thinking about getting out. Not only of his job but the business altogether.
Foundation repair, in south Texas at least, is a fundamental business. In other words, it's not glamorous but, like garbage collection and plumbing, it is a necessary service. The soil here is so highly plastic (i.e., it absorbs water and expands) here that it makes homebuilding and buying a real gamble. The reason it's a good business is because leveling a house isn't something a weekend warrior could do either. It requires specialized (and expensive) equipment and a skilled labor force. This is not like painting your house.
Back during the late 90's the business got really fat. A few favorable decisions were rendered by the State Supreme Court which held that, in the instance of an underslab discharge of water (i.e., plumbing leak) foundation repair was covered by the homeowners' policy. This was despite the fact that foundation repair was specifically excluded in the standard policy. It was an outcome-based decision of course, and the conservative in me hated it even if it was good for my dad's company (I didn't yet work here). Well, predictably, insurors began hemorrhaging money on these type of claims and more than a few lawyers got really damned rich pushing foundation claims for people. In the business, it was an orgy. Companies that had existed at a "simmer" found themselves awash in work, and money. New companies, some good and some not, sprungup almost overnight to get in on the action. It was a party and it was fun while it lasted. I know this because I watched it all from the sidelines. I watched my dad go from rags to riches.
Well, like all parties, this one came to an end. The insurance companies began leaving Texas in droves, so much so that the legislature itself felt compelled to get involved to stop the exodus. Those who didn't leave dropped the old policy - the "HO-B" - with the language where the Court "found" foundation repair coverage and issued new policies with language that excluded foundations nine ways to Sunday. Thus far, though I am certainly not in the loop about this type of litigation, the language seems to be watertight. Endorsements are of course being offered that cover foundations, but they're expensive and not a lot of people are buying them. The result was predictable. Foundation repair is expensive with the typical slab repair costing about $10 to $15,000.00. Not exactly pocket change, especially in a relatively poor city like San Antonio. This all began to happen in 2001.
I came to work for this company in February 2001. Two months after I got to Austin to begin my training (Erica and the girls stayed behind in Mobile to let the girls finish school and to sell the house) Dell Computer began shedding jobs. The economy, though not really bad, had been tottering since the Florida recount and most people were whispering that we were overdue for a recession. Michael Dell smelled what was in the air and began to protect his business by cutting costs. This was smart business but it ran a chill over the Austin market. This happened about the same time that the insurance companies began issuing the new policies.
Another ingredient in the mix was that the 10 year drought in South Texas (droughts are extremely bad for foundations and thus good for the foundation repair industry) broke. We had the wettest year in 2 decades in 2001 and lost probably more than 30 days of work because of it.
And, to top off this lovely shit sandwich, the rotten olive on top, the piece de resistance was 9/11. After that, the economy, valiantly holding its own in the face of bad economic news, began to contract painfully. Old skeletons that remained hidden during the flush times of the Clinton boom came dancing out. Companies like Enron and World Com (a major San Antonio employer) went tits-up amid charges of financial irregularities. Trust was lost and hope was broken, especially in this good hearted but essentially poor city.
Tuesday blahs
God but I’m having a real bastard of a day here. It seems like all I have now are collection problems at work. People whose homes we’ve finished leveling and now they’re pissed off about something or other. I have a raging headache because I have had to give ground to one customer who I thought we had dead to rights on a contract and so I took it out on another customer earlier today. We ended the conversation with both of promising to see the other in court.
Jeez, I need a Tylenol. Or four.
I spoke with dad this morning and he told me that he’s going to make it a point to come to San Antonio every Wednesday to spend the day with us. I think it’s a good idea but for some reason I also dread it. I don’t know why but over the past year or so I’ve developed a sort of tissue rejection thing with him. There’s no real way to politely state it. The fact is that I have no faith that this job will ever work out for me. I used to, but the past 3 years have drained all the optimism out of me. I’m being paid enough to keep a few steps ahead of the bill collectors but not much more.
I hate what I’m becoming. Where before I was hopeful and optimistic about the future, now I’m cynical and pessimistic. I think that’s because I feel trapped here. I can’t just up and leave because doing so would almost certainly mean leaving San Antonio. I like this city but I’d leave tomorrow but for the fact that Megan is only halfway thru her junior year of high school. I don’t want to uproot her at this delicate time of her life. So I plod on, day after day, vainly hoping that business will turn around enough to make my life better. I say vainly hoping because that’s what I’ve been reduced to. All the muscular, confident optimism I had 3 years ago when I arrived here is gone.
My goal has always been to own my own business. Both my parents are entrepreneurs and one of my best old friends is one too. To own my own business, to feel excited about work again, hell to feel alive again would be heaven. I’ve always thought of it in the analogy of building a rocket. To start a company and grow it enough that it enriches you is like building a rocket and joyously riding it into orbit. Hell, that’s the entire reason I came to work for my dad in the first place, to get away from the compartmentalized, big company mentality of my last job. Well, today I feel farther away from that goal than I ever have.
Jeez, I need a Tylenol. Or four.
I spoke with dad this morning and he told me that he’s going to make it a point to come to San Antonio every Wednesday to spend the day with us. I think it’s a good idea but for some reason I also dread it. I don’t know why but over the past year or so I’ve developed a sort of tissue rejection thing with him. There’s no real way to politely state it. The fact is that I have no faith that this job will ever work out for me. I used to, but the past 3 years have drained all the optimism out of me. I’m being paid enough to keep a few steps ahead of the bill collectors but not much more.
I hate what I’m becoming. Where before I was hopeful and optimistic about the future, now I’m cynical and pessimistic. I think that’s because I feel trapped here. I can’t just up and leave because doing so would almost certainly mean leaving San Antonio. I like this city but I’d leave tomorrow but for the fact that Megan is only halfway thru her junior year of high school. I don’t want to uproot her at this delicate time of her life. So I plod on, day after day, vainly hoping that business will turn around enough to make my life better. I say vainly hoping because that’s what I’ve been reduced to. All the muscular, confident optimism I had 3 years ago when I arrived here is gone.
My goal has always been to own my own business. Both my parents are entrepreneurs and one of my best old friends is one too. To own my own business, to feel excited about work again, hell to feel alive again would be heaven. I’ve always thought of it in the analogy of building a rocket. To start a company and grow it enough that it enriches you is like building a rocket and joyously riding it into orbit. Hell, that’s the entire reason I came to work for my dad in the first place, to get away from the compartmentalized, big company mentality of my last job. Well, today I feel farther away from that goal than I ever have.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Today's classic rock fix
I heard a great old song on the radio earlier today, "I Need a Lover" by John Cougar (nee Mellencamp). I don't know what album this is off of but it's pure gold:
Well I’m not wiped out by this poolroom life I’m livin’
I’m gonna quit this job, and go to school, and head back home
(head back home)
Now I’m not asking to be loved or be forgiven
Hey - I just can’t face shakin’ in this bedroom
One more night alone
Okay, okay. Maybe it's a bit overwrought, but at least it's sincere. It's also earnest. This was from the 70's when Mr. Mellencamp was no doubt told by his label that he would have to drop his rather ridiculous last name if he wanted a career. You can almost hear the hunger and ambition in his voice and in the play of his band, especially during the bridge to the guitar solo. Hey, hit the highway indeed. The fact that he called himself John Cougar back then never mattered diddly squat to me. The music is ultimately all that ever matters and in my humble opinion, his music was a hell of a lot better before he reassumed his real name and started taking himself too seriously, before he dubbed himself the heartland poet.
Well, free day's over, thank God. I always crave these days like a convict does a furlough but I always end up feeling like shit because of the overeating. Oh well, I suppose that's a good thing.
Well I’m not wiped out by this poolroom life I’m livin’
I’m gonna quit this job, and go to school, and head back home
(head back home)
Now I’m not asking to be loved or be forgiven
Hey - I just can’t face shakin’ in this bedroom
One more night alone
Okay, okay. Maybe it's a bit overwrought, but at least it's sincere. It's also earnest. This was from the 70's when Mr. Mellencamp was no doubt told by his label that he would have to drop his rather ridiculous last name if he wanted a career. You can almost hear the hunger and ambition in his voice and in the play of his band, especially during the bridge to the guitar solo. Hey, hit the highway indeed. The fact that he called himself John Cougar back then never mattered diddly squat to me. The music is ultimately all that ever matters and in my humble opinion, his music was a hell of a lot better before he reassumed his real name and started taking himself too seriously, before he dubbed himself the heartland poet.
Well, free day's over, thank God. I always crave these days like a convict does a furlough but I always end up feeling like shit because of the overeating. Oh well, I suppose that's a good thing.
Saturday, January 24, 2004
No DSL, for now anyway
Believe it or not but my house, my 2 story 4 bedroom house, only came with 2 phone jacks, one in the kitchen and the other in the master bedroom. When we set up the computer, we decided to use the formal dining room as an office as we really don't have much use for a room where we're only going to eat 2 or 3 meals a year. The problem though was the modem connection for the computer. We solved it by buying a "cordless jack" which I suppose is a radio unit the communicates between the computer and the phone jack in the kitchen.
I tried installing the DSL modem today and it seems that the cordless jack won't support DSL. I called tech support and they confirmed my suspicion. Shit.
I called and discussed ways around this with the tech support guy and he suggested that I buy something called a "cordless router" which sounds really expensive to me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can see if there's another cordless jack that maybe can handle the DSL signal or I may even have a plug installed in this room, which I don't want to do as it would involve running a 50' cord around the perimeter of my house and drilling a hole in the brick veneer on the other side of the wall. That would probably be expensive too. Or, I could just mail the stuff back to SBC and say no thanks, can't do because of a hardware problem.
I think I'll probably go to Circuit City tomorrow and see how much the routers are. It they're more than $50 then I'll probably decide to stick with good ole dialup AOL. I am not very confident about my ability to rig up something like that.
Oh, and I weighed myself at the gym this morning and I am finally below 300 lbs. I weighed 296 lbs, which is a loss of 17 lbs over the past 3 weeks. So tomorrow for free day, I think I'll hit that Taco Bell I meant to last week and for dinner we'll all go to Grant Street Pizza for some New York style pie. Yeah baby!
I tried installing the DSL modem today and it seems that the cordless jack won't support DSL. I called tech support and they confirmed my suspicion. Shit.
I called and discussed ways around this with the tech support guy and he suggested that I buy something called a "cordless router" which sounds really expensive to me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can see if there's another cordless jack that maybe can handle the DSL signal or I may even have a plug installed in this room, which I don't want to do as it would involve running a 50' cord around the perimeter of my house and drilling a hole in the brick veneer on the other side of the wall. That would probably be expensive too. Or, I could just mail the stuff back to SBC and say no thanks, can't do because of a hardware problem.
I think I'll probably go to Circuit City tomorrow and see how much the routers are. It they're more than $50 then I'll probably decide to stick with good ole dialup AOL. I am not very confident about my ability to rig up something like that.
Oh, and I weighed myself at the gym this morning and I am finally below 300 lbs. I weighed 296 lbs, which is a loss of 17 lbs over the past 3 weeks. So tomorrow for free day, I think I'll hit that Taco Bell I meant to last week and for dinner we'll all go to Grant Street Pizza for some New York style pie. Yeah baby!
Friday, January 23, 2004
End of week 2
Today was the last gym workout of my week 2 Body For Life workout plan (even though I started a workout regimen a week before then). So far, so good. Though I'll weigh myself tomorrow, I would estimate that I've probably lost about 15 lbs in the past 3 weeks. That's not too bad.
It's not really enough that people are readily seeing it yet (at least no one's commenting) but I can tell. The reason it's not that apparent is because all of my shirts and sweaters are size XXL and were loose and billowy even before I began this routine. I can tell that there's less around my middle and my face looks a bit thinner to me though. I've always wanted to go back to having only one chin.
I remember seeing this show on TV ( I think it was Dateline or another one like that) about a celebrity chef who lost over 100 lbs on a diet and exercise regimen. When asked how he could stand being around food so much and not eat, he replied that when he gets a craving, he smells the food. It showed him tearing apart a fresh baguette roll and deeply inhaling the scent of it. Frankly, I thought that was stupid and I laughe at it . . . until last night. Megan baked a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies and when I caught a whiff of them in the oven I almost lost it. However, I remembered what I saw on that show so, instead of eating one, I broke it and deeply smelled it. The incredible warmth and richness of the butter and brown sugar believe it or not satisfied my craving. It wasn't as good as eating one, of course, but it was better than nothing. And not a crumb passed my lips.
I'm bored shitless here at work. Vivian got sick after lunch so I sent her home. Usually I'd be home by 4:30 but not today. Oh well. Like I'm really such an asshole that I'd make her work sick so I could have an extra 30 minutes doing nothing at home.
I am so bored that I am clicking other peoples' blogs on Blogger. Some of them are good and some are quite bad. I don't understand though what problem most people seem to have with CAPITALIZATION! For heaven's sake, people, did no one take English in high school? Hell, not even high school, that's grammar school level stuff. Jeez.
It's not really enough that people are readily seeing it yet (at least no one's commenting) but I can tell. The reason it's not that apparent is because all of my shirts and sweaters are size XXL and were loose and billowy even before I began this routine. I can tell that there's less around my middle and my face looks a bit thinner to me though. I've always wanted to go back to having only one chin.
I remember seeing this show on TV ( I think it was Dateline or another one like that) about a celebrity chef who lost over 100 lbs on a diet and exercise regimen. When asked how he could stand being around food so much and not eat, he replied that when he gets a craving, he smells the food. It showed him tearing apart a fresh baguette roll and deeply inhaling the scent of it. Frankly, I thought that was stupid and I laughe at it . . . until last night. Megan baked a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies and when I caught a whiff of them in the oven I almost lost it. However, I remembered what I saw on that show so, instead of eating one, I broke it and deeply smelled it. The incredible warmth and richness of the butter and brown sugar believe it or not satisfied my craving. It wasn't as good as eating one, of course, but it was better than nothing. And not a crumb passed my lips.
I'm bored shitless here at work. Vivian got sick after lunch so I sent her home. Usually I'd be home by 4:30 but not today. Oh well. Like I'm really such an asshole that I'd make her work sick so I could have an extra 30 minutes doing nothing at home.
I am so bored that I am clicking other peoples' blogs on Blogger. Some of them are good and some are quite bad. I don't understand though what problem most people seem to have with CAPITALIZATION! For heaven's sake, people, did no one take English in high school? Hell, not even high school, that's grammar school level stuff. Jeez.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
This is what you call "Classic Rock?"
I've been trying to fing something, anything on the radio that would motivate me to write. Unfortunately, with few exceptions, the "Classic Rock" station over here only rarely goes outside the dozen or so focus-grouped-to-death songs that have been worn smooth over the years by so much radio play. I mean, for God's sake, does anyone really listen to "Stairway to Heaven" when it comes on anymore? Anyone? Didn't think so.
Heard "Legs" by ZZ Top coming back to the office this afternoon. This is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. ZZ Top was a good band back in the mid and late 70's and the very early 80's. In fact, I think they reached their peak with 1981's El Loco. Yes, it was juvenile and sophomoric and all that but it was also brilliant. "Tube Snake Boogie" and "Pearl Necklace" were all guaranteed to make teenage boys go into titters but they were as original as they were daring. And try to get either song out of your head after listening to it. After that, though, ZZ Top went into their MTV phase and released a bunch of silly video-friendly songs like "Legs" and "Sharp Dressed Man." After that, adios career.
I also heard "Breakin the Law" from Judas Priest today. I used to really like JP (but honestly not really that song) but a guy named Greg - who used to work for me - totally ruined them for me when he told me that Rob Halford was gay. Don't get me wrong, what Halford does in his bedroom is his business alone. I don't have a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is that now I have to wonder what the hell Halford is really singing about when he howls "You Got Another Thing Coming" every time I hear that song. In fact, Greg told me that he saw Halford in concert a few years ago with his new band. Halford rode a Harley onto the stage then dismounted and fellated the handlebars. Again, to each his own but that's just not my cuppa tea, y'know.
Perhaps not coincidentally, I fired Greg a few months later.
Heard "Legs" by ZZ Top coming back to the office this afternoon. This is a perfect example of what I'm talking about. ZZ Top was a good band back in the mid and late 70's and the very early 80's. In fact, I think they reached their peak with 1981's El Loco. Yes, it was juvenile and sophomoric and all that but it was also brilliant. "Tube Snake Boogie" and "Pearl Necklace" were all guaranteed to make teenage boys go into titters but they were as original as they were daring. And try to get either song out of your head after listening to it. After that, though, ZZ Top went into their MTV phase and released a bunch of silly video-friendly songs like "Legs" and "Sharp Dressed Man." After that, adios career.
I also heard "Breakin the Law" from Judas Priest today. I used to really like JP (but honestly not really that song) but a guy named Greg - who used to work for me - totally ruined them for me when he told me that Rob Halford was gay. Don't get me wrong, what Halford does in his bedroom is his business alone. I don't have a problem with that. What I do have a problem with is that now I have to wonder what the hell Halford is really singing about when he howls "You Got Another Thing Coming" every time I hear that song. In fact, Greg told me that he saw Halford in concert a few years ago with his new band. Halford rode a Harley onto the stage then dismounted and fellated the handlebars. Again, to each his own but that's just not my cuppa tea, y'know.
Perhaps not coincidentally, I fired Greg a few months later.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
I feel like Howard Dean
Well, I decided after watching Paul Teutel pop 405 lbs on American Chopper (they were following him around a gym obviously) that I would set that as my goal and try to finally become a member of the 400-lb bench press club myself. So, I went into the gym all full of piss and vinegar this morning ready to start training for it. However, the piss and vinegar evaporated the moment I lifted 135 lbs., my nominal warmup weight, off the rack. Jee-zus my shoulder ached! I wanted to try to see if I could push it and maybe do a single of 275 on my 4th set. Wasn't happening. My last set was a very sorry set of 4 at 235 lbs.
Not too impressive.
I think I'll start doing a few sets of pushups to try to strengthen the joint at night before bedtime. God, I don't want to see an orthopedist for this.
Not really too much to write about. I guess I'm still emotionally spent after seeing my new niece this past weekend. Oh, wait. There is some drama, if you want to call it that. Megan has got the bright idea that it would be really cool if she and her friend Kayla took a road trip to Mobile during Mardi Gras. That's 13 hours each way in a 5 year old car with 70,000 miles on it and a persistent oil leak. Sorry, hate to bust your bubble honey but that is about the worst idea you've had since . . . well, I don't know when. She's still at that young age where she thinks she's invulnerable. Like what the hell's going to happen if she breaks down in, oh I dunno, how 'bout Louisiana, and I can't do anything about it? Say it with me, kids: NOT HAPPENING.
I'm still with the religion of working out and dieting. Despite my poor showing on the barbell bench, I felt strong in the arms and still managed to have a good workout this morning. As for work, "John" has worn out the last bit of my patience with his rescheduling of his appointments and taking unauthorized days off. I was going to tell him this morning that I was completely taking him off new leads forever but, surprise!, he called in this morning and told Vivian to cancel his appointments because he "had his kids with him." He had no appointments but it still pissed me off.
As Howard Dean would say, "YEAAAARGH!!!"
Not too impressive.
I think I'll start doing a few sets of pushups to try to strengthen the joint at night before bedtime. God, I don't want to see an orthopedist for this.
Not really too much to write about. I guess I'm still emotionally spent after seeing my new niece this past weekend. Oh, wait. There is some drama, if you want to call it that. Megan has got the bright idea that it would be really cool if she and her friend Kayla took a road trip to Mobile during Mardi Gras. That's 13 hours each way in a 5 year old car with 70,000 miles on it and a persistent oil leak. Sorry, hate to bust your bubble honey but that is about the worst idea you've had since . . . well, I don't know when. She's still at that young age where she thinks she's invulnerable. Like what the hell's going to happen if she breaks down in, oh I dunno, how 'bout Louisiana, and I can't do anything about it? Say it with me, kids: NOT HAPPENING.
I'm still with the religion of working out and dieting. Despite my poor showing on the barbell bench, I felt strong in the arms and still managed to have a good workout this morning. As for work, "John" has worn out the last bit of my patience with his rescheduling of his appointments and taking unauthorized days off. I was going to tell him this morning that I was completely taking him off new leads forever but, surprise!, he called in this morning and told Vivian to cancel his appointments because he "had his kids with him." He had no appointments but it still pissed me off.
As Howard Dean would say, "YEAAAARGH!!!"
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Little Lillian
I am blogging this from my brother Mark’s beautiful home in Ft. Worth.
My newest niece came into the world today. Shortly after noon this overcast and cold day, the heavens parted, the angels heralded and Lillian Addison Cooper came into the world riding a sunbeam. She is a healthy and happy 8 lbs, 9 ounces and 20.5 inches long. Mark and Natalie are elated if a bit beleaguered to at last have their gift from God safely delivered to their arms.
Mark, I’ve left you a link to my weblog so I think there’s a good chance you’ll read this. I want to thank you for letting me be a part of this. Coming here, I of course wanted to see Natalie and everyone else and Lord knows I wanted to see and hold little Lillian. But mostly I wanted to see you. I wanted to see the look on your face as you held your little girl. And seeing that, I want you to know that I wasn’t disappointed. Believe me, brother, I could have walked here from San Antonio and the paradisial expression on your face this day would have made it worth it.
I just want to reiterate what I said to you earlier. You have just entered the nirvana of your life. But this rapturous time will be as fleeting as it is precious. I’m not saying that your life won’t have other happy times; it will, of course. But nothing will quite compare to the cloud that little Lillian, your firstborn, has so obviously lifted you on upon. So savor this. Grab it with both hands and savor it. No one can hold the present forever, any more than we can catch or long hold flowing water in our hands. But your memory will hold this time and again, like we talked about earlier this evening at Starbucks, no matter how rocky your road may become at times later in your life (and it will; it’s part of life) your memories of this day and the days to follow will always put a smile in your heart.
Savor how she looks, savor the sounds of her cries and coos, the sweet smell of her breath and the way her little hand holds onto your fingertip as you hold her and talk softly to her at night. But always keep in mind that though little girls are God’s most precious gifts, He doesn’t let us have them for very long. She’ll grow, and quickly. You’ll find that time is a thief now. In three months, you’ll get up in the middle of the night and rock Lillian back to sleep after giving her a bottle. In three years, you’ll lay beside her bed as you read her a story to send her gently off to her dreams. In eight years, you’ll kneel beside her bed to say prayers then softly kiss her forehead before turning out her lights. Right now, she's your delicate flower. Before long, she'll be your baby; then she'll be your little girl. Then, she'll be your big girl.
So hold onto it. Too many men glibly walk through this part of their lives blind to the magic of it. Appreciate this gift. Hold onto these moments in your heart, for this is what completes us as men. This is what makes us fathers.
Again, I thank you for having me here. I'll always remember this day, when I saw my brother Mark and his wife become a family. May God bless you, Natalie and Lillian always and ever.
Your brother,
James
My newest niece came into the world today. Shortly after noon this overcast and cold day, the heavens parted, the angels heralded and Lillian Addison Cooper came into the world riding a sunbeam. She is a healthy and happy 8 lbs, 9 ounces and 20.5 inches long. Mark and Natalie are elated if a bit beleaguered to at last have their gift from God safely delivered to their arms.
Mark, I’ve left you a link to my weblog so I think there’s a good chance you’ll read this. I want to thank you for letting me be a part of this. Coming here, I of course wanted to see Natalie and everyone else and Lord knows I wanted to see and hold little Lillian. But mostly I wanted to see you. I wanted to see the look on your face as you held your little girl. And seeing that, I want you to know that I wasn’t disappointed. Believe me, brother, I could have walked here from San Antonio and the paradisial expression on your face this day would have made it worth it.
I just want to reiterate what I said to you earlier. You have just entered the nirvana of your life. But this rapturous time will be as fleeting as it is precious. I’m not saying that your life won’t have other happy times; it will, of course. But nothing will quite compare to the cloud that little Lillian, your firstborn, has so obviously lifted you on upon. So savor this. Grab it with both hands and savor it. No one can hold the present forever, any more than we can catch or long hold flowing water in our hands. But your memory will hold this time and again, like we talked about earlier this evening at Starbucks, no matter how rocky your road may become at times later in your life (and it will; it’s part of life) your memories of this day and the days to follow will always put a smile in your heart.
Savor how she looks, savor the sounds of her cries and coos, the sweet smell of her breath and the way her little hand holds onto your fingertip as you hold her and talk softly to her at night. But always keep in mind that though little girls are God’s most precious gifts, He doesn’t let us have them for very long. She’ll grow, and quickly. You’ll find that time is a thief now. In three months, you’ll get up in the middle of the night and rock Lillian back to sleep after giving her a bottle. In three years, you’ll lay beside her bed as you read her a story to send her gently off to her dreams. In eight years, you’ll kneel beside her bed to say prayers then softly kiss her forehead before turning out her lights. Right now, she's your delicate flower. Before long, she'll be your baby; then she'll be your little girl. Then, she'll be your big girl.
So hold onto it. Too many men glibly walk through this part of their lives blind to the magic of it. Appreciate this gift. Hold onto these moments in your heart, for this is what completes us as men. This is what makes us fathers.
Again, I thank you for having me here. I'll always remember this day, when I saw my brother Mark and his wife become a family. May God bless you, Natalie and Lillian always and ever.
Your brother,
James
Friday, January 16, 2004
Cha-cha-cha-changes
Messing with the template again. All these templates blogger offers look good but I end up getting sick of them the next day.
Work Stress
Surprise, surprise but Dad is all over my ass again about our numbers at work. Shit, what he expects is impossible. We can't run this fucking office any leaner than we already do. We crossed the line from being "lean" to just plain "chickenshit cheap" a long time ago, too. Goddammit, my trucks are being held together with duct tape and baling wire and my people haven't had a raise in over two years. That, and there's still too much competition in the market to let me raise my prices. Where the hell else do I cut? One easy solution would be to not offer any more discounts but if we do that, our sales will fall off by about 25%.
The bottom line is that there's no silver bullet here. I'm trying to resist it but the fact may be that this business, hell this industry, may never reach back up to the level where it was back in the 90's during the long boom. Even if the economy gets back up to that level again - and it will - the insurance enviorment has changed.
What I will eventually tell him is that there is a clock working here. Once Megan graduates from high school (in May 2005) if I'm not where I want to be financially, or at least on the road to getting there, the last sand will fall out of that hourglass and I will go seek greener pastures. He's my dad and I love him but he does not own me.
And who's he to bitch anyway? Sonofabitch is going skiing tomorrow for a week in Colorado. That's after going scuba diving in Belize a few months back and spending God knows how many thousand dollars remodeling his back yard recently. He's doing this when everybody else in the company is doing their damnedest just to keep the bill collectors at arm's length. That's bullshit!
The bottom line is that there's no silver bullet here. I'm trying to resist it but the fact may be that this business, hell this industry, may never reach back up to the level where it was back in the 90's during the long boom. Even if the economy gets back up to that level again - and it will - the insurance enviorment has changed.
What I will eventually tell him is that there is a clock working here. Once Megan graduates from high school (in May 2005) if I'm not where I want to be financially, or at least on the road to getting there, the last sand will fall out of that hourglass and I will go seek greener pastures. He's my dad and I love him but he does not own me.
And who's he to bitch anyway? Sonofabitch is going skiing tomorrow for a week in Colorado. That's after going scuba diving in Belize a few months back and spending God knows how many thousand dollars remodeling his back yard recently. He's doing this when everybody else in the company is doing their damnedest just to keep the bill collectors at arm's length. That's bullshit!
Limping to the Finish Line
Felt really sluggish this morning in the gym. My shoulder hurt and I just felt low on energy. I pushed myself to complete it though, and I did meet an interesting man. I noticed some dude doing barbell bench press with 330 lbs. He did 8 reps. He eventually went all the way up to 365 lbs. - my all time max - for his last set and did 3 clean reps. I know because I was spotting him. He was big too, but not holy shit big, if you know what I mean. In other words, he wasn't a body builder. To the contrary, he's a CPA and he's 42 years old, 5 years older than me!
He told me that he's stronger now than he's ever been in his life and that he's built his strength not by any masochistic training regime but just through plain persistence. He's worked out regularly for the past 3 years and hasn't gone any long periods withoug working out. I've always wanted to be able to bench 400-lbs. by the time I'm 40. I guess there's hope for me yet.
It's raining this morning and we called the crews off again. Were running out of work too as, though I have plenty of jobs on the pending list, no one wants to start until February or March. And even though the weather's really shitty outside, I have an appointment in Kingsville which looks to be about 3 hours away.
Everything's fine at home. Erica and I have ordered Yahoo DSL at home to replace our old AOL dialup account. It'll be nice to have the computer at home work as fast as the one here at work.
Back to the diet, Phillips recommends that you take one free day a week and eat whatever you want, as much as you want. I am having fantasies about mowing down about a dozen Taco Bell soft tacos that are almost sexual!
He told me that he's stronger now than he's ever been in his life and that he's built his strength not by any masochistic training regime but just through plain persistence. He's worked out regularly for the past 3 years and hasn't gone any long periods withoug working out. I've always wanted to be able to bench 400-lbs. by the time I'm 40. I guess there's hope for me yet.
It's raining this morning and we called the crews off again. Were running out of work too as, though I have plenty of jobs on the pending list, no one wants to start until February or March. And even though the weather's really shitty outside, I have an appointment in Kingsville which looks to be about 3 hours away.
Everything's fine at home. Erica and I have ordered Yahoo DSL at home to replace our old AOL dialup account. It'll be nice to have the computer at home work as fast as the one here at work.
Back to the diet, Phillips recommends that you take one free day a week and eat whatever you want, as much as you want. I am having fantasies about mowing down about a dozen Taco Bell soft tacos that are almost sexual!
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Thursday Deluge
Well, it’s raining like hell outside right now, meaning that we cancelled most of our jobs for today. I’ve got a few crews out, those who can work under houses but for the rest of them, they have to go home. I tell my customers that the last thing I want to do as manager is write a letter to some mother in Mexico explaining to her that her little Luisito was fried while trying to operate an electric generator up to his boots in water in a hole in the ground. No thanks. Better to just call the day off and wait for sunshine. Lot of things can happen when you try to work in the rain, all of them bad. The best that can happen is that the men will just bog around in the mud and get maybe a third done as much as they would on a dry day. The worst that can happen is that someone’ll get hurt, or worse.
As far as the workout program goes, I’m still going with it. Today was a cardio day so I went in and did 20 minutes on the stationary bike. I’m beginning to see and feel some subtle changes in my body too. Too soon to be apparent to anyone else of course but I can tell. Interestingly, the one thing that I thought would be my biggest problem with this routine – getting up and into the gym at 5:30 – so far hasn’t been a problem. I’m actually enjoying popping up at 5:00 and starting my day. Of course, I’m damn near comatose by 9:30 but that's not really a problem either as thankfully Erica’s not a nightowl.
I have no appointments today because I was planning on being in Dallas to welcome my newest niece into the world. Mark and Natalie are expecting a baby girl any moment and in fact they were planning on inducing labor yesterday as she’s already a week late. However, they changed their minds at the last minute to give nature a bit more time to run its course. Thus, I’m still waiting to get the word and go. I don’t know why I feel so adamant about being there for him. I mean he’s my kid brother and all, but I’m sure he wouldn’t hold it against me if I couldn’t go. But . . . I need to see him on that day. I want to see and hold my niece too of course, but mostly I want to see Mark’s face when he holds his little girl for the first time. I still remember the emotional high I was on after Courtney was born; it was so intense that it was almost surreal. I want Mark to have that too. I want to see him launched into that orbit.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to blog about it from Mark’s house. If not, I’ll do it as soon as I get back to S.A.
Now to find something to do here at work . . .
As far as the workout program goes, I’m still going with it. Today was a cardio day so I went in and did 20 minutes on the stationary bike. I’m beginning to see and feel some subtle changes in my body too. Too soon to be apparent to anyone else of course but I can tell. Interestingly, the one thing that I thought would be my biggest problem with this routine – getting up and into the gym at 5:30 – so far hasn’t been a problem. I’m actually enjoying popping up at 5:00 and starting my day. Of course, I’m damn near comatose by 9:30 but that's not really a problem either as thankfully Erica’s not a nightowl.
I have no appointments today because I was planning on being in Dallas to welcome my newest niece into the world. Mark and Natalie are expecting a baby girl any moment and in fact they were planning on inducing labor yesterday as she’s already a week late. However, they changed their minds at the last minute to give nature a bit more time to run its course. Thus, I’m still waiting to get the word and go. I don’t know why I feel so adamant about being there for him. I mean he’s my kid brother and all, but I’m sure he wouldn’t hold it against me if I couldn’t go. But . . . I need to see him on that day. I want to see and hold my niece too of course, but mostly I want to see Mark’s face when he holds his little girl for the first time. I still remember the emotional high I was on after Courtney was born; it was so intense that it was almost surreal. I want Mark to have that too. I want to see him launched into that orbit.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to blog about it from Mark’s house. If not, I’ll do it as soon as I get back to S.A.
Now to find something to do here at work . . .
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
Wednesday Thoughts
The back pain is finally beginning to go away and the muscle soreness is beginning to abate too . . . finally. Christ what a bad two days I've had dealing with pain! But it seems to be paying off. It's way too soon to be having others notice the difference yet but I can tell some slight differences in myself, both in the mirror and in the way my clothes fit.
As far as work goes, I'm having a dispute with a customer who happens to be my next door neighbor's sister. More proof that the old cliche about how you shouldn't do business with friends is true. If she refuses to pay her bill and I have to sue her, that will make for some very uncomfortable situations at home. Oh well.
Heard a great oldie on the radio this morning, Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me." I've always loved that song. I like it because it's clean. Cheap Trick's basic 3-chord approach always appealed to me. And also, who can't hear simple, guileless lyrics like this and not smile:
I'll shine up my old brown shoes
Put on a brand new shirt
Get home early from work
If you say that you love me
Especially when they're sung to such an enthusiastic audience like those squealing Japanese girls (remember, this was off the Live at Buddha Kan album). I'm reasonably sure that they had no idea what Robin Trower was singing about but I think they were so wrapped up in the moment that they didn't care. Robin and the boys were obviously inspired by them and a great piece of music was made. Thank God the recorder was rolling.
The back pain is finally beginning to go away and the muscle soreness is beginning to abate too . . . finally. Christ what a bad two days I've had dealing with pain! But it seems to be paying off. It's way too soon to be having others notice the difference yet but I can tell some slight differences in myself, both in the mirror and in the way my clothes fit.
As far as work goes, I'm having a dispute with a customer who happens to be my next door neighbor's sister. More proof that the old cliche about how you shouldn't do business with friends is true. If she refuses to pay her bill and I have to sue her, that will make for some very uncomfortable situations at home. Oh well.
Heard a great oldie on the radio this morning, Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me." I've always loved that song. I like it because it's clean. Cheap Trick's basic 3-chord approach always appealed to me. And also, who can't hear simple, guileless lyrics like this and not smile:
I'll shine up my old brown shoes
Put on a brand new shirt
Get home early from work
If you say that you love me
Especially when they're sung to such an enthusiastic audience like those squealing Japanese girls (remember, this was off the Live at Buddha Kan album). I'm reasonably sure that they had no idea what Robin Trower was singing about but I think they were so wrapped up in the moment that they didn't care. Robin and the boys were obviously inspired by them and a great piece of music was made. Thank God the recorder was rolling.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Pain and More Pain
I ended up going to a chiropractor yesterday because of my back pain. It felt better for a few hours but eventually stiffened up on me again. I could barely get out of bed this morning too, my back was so stiff. I did however manage to drag my ass to the gym where I got in a good 20 minutes on the stationary bike. After that, the hot tub and sauna made me loosen up but that wore off too. Right now, I feel like I have a hot spike in between my shoulder blades. It wouldn't be so bad in and of itself (as this has happened to me dozens of times) but for the fact that every-fucking-thing else on my body is sore too. Jeez, I really pushed too hard yesterday!
I ended up going to a chiropractor yesterday because of my back pain. It felt better for a few hours but eventually stiffened up on me again. I could barely get out of bed this morning too, my back was so stiff. I did however manage to drag my ass to the gym where I got in a good 20 minutes on the stationary bike. After that, the hot tub and sauna made me loosen up but that wore off too. Right now, I feel like I have a hot spike in between my shoulder blades. It wouldn't be so bad in and of itself (as this has happened to me dozens of times) but for the fact that every-fucking-thing else on my body is sore too. Jeez, I really pushed too hard yesterday!
Monday, January 12, 2004
Body For Life
Okay, okay. I give up. I have decided to yield to the inevitable and get on this program. I bought the book last night and read half of it in one setting. I must admit, some of Bill O'Neill's ideas are intriguing. Well, what do I have to lose, 'cept about 85 lbs. of fat? To me, a lot of the program is common sense, and to me, that's a welcome relief.
I did the first workout of the program, an upper body weight training session and I have to admit, I'm impressed. I'm also numb. Since I'm supposed to keep a record, here's what I did:
Dumbell bench press: 40#x15, 50#x12, 60#x10, 70#x8
Dumbell flys: 40#x8
Dumbell curls: 20#x15, 25#10, 30#x8
Seated dumbell press: 25#x15, 30#x10, 40#x6
Hammerstrength iso-lateral D-Y row: 90#x20, 140#x12, 180#x8
Ab crunches: 12#x15
The crunches are done on a power ball, holding a 12-lb. medicine ball on my chest.
My back and shoulder hurt and I can tell that my chest and arms will scream tomorrow. But I fell totally spent, which I suppose is the idea.
Oh, and my weight was 306 lbs. this morning. That's a loss of 7 lbs. over the last week. Now, I just have to take that fucking "before" photo.
Okay, okay. I give up. I have decided to yield to the inevitable and get on this program. I bought the book last night and read half of it in one setting. I must admit, some of Bill O'Neill's ideas are intriguing. Well, what do I have to lose, 'cept about 85 lbs. of fat? To me, a lot of the program is common sense, and to me, that's a welcome relief.
I did the first workout of the program, an upper body weight training session and I have to admit, I'm impressed. I'm also numb. Since I'm supposed to keep a record, here's what I did:
Dumbell bench press: 40#x15, 50#x12, 60#x10, 70#x8
Dumbell flys: 40#x8
Dumbell curls: 20#x15, 25#10, 30#x8
Seated dumbell press: 25#x15, 30#x10, 40#x6
Hammerstrength iso-lateral D-Y row: 90#x20, 140#x12, 180#x8
Ab crunches: 12#x15
The crunches are done on a power ball, holding a 12-lb. medicine ball on my chest.
My back and shoulder hurt and I can tell that my chest and arms will scream tomorrow. But I fell totally spent, which I suppose is the idea.
Oh, and my weight was 306 lbs. this morning. That's a loss of 7 lbs. over the last week. Now, I just have to take that fucking "before" photo.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Sunday Thoughts
Well, I haven’t blogged in a few days and thought I’d spend this Sunday morning catching up. Megan’s off to church and Courtney spent the night at a friend’s house down the block so I finally have some time to compose my thoughts.
The other day, I wrote my mom an email lamenting that I had to depend on my in-laws to buy Megan a car. She responded to me with the mother-of-all ass-kickings, telling me to get my head out of my ass and realize that the good in my life outweighs the bad by 90% to 10%. She also told me that she was mad at me because of the "aloof" way I acted when she and so much other of my family were down for Christmas. Some of what she said about me were over-reactions, I thought, and some were dead-on. Needless to say, I didn’t really feel like writing that day and even though I attempted a few times to do so, in the end I deleted all of them. Even though I hate self-pity, and would hate to write anything that sounded that way, I want to avoid writing in a way that sounds like I’m trying to "keep a stiff upper lip." I want to write honestly in this journal. And, honestly, I felt a bit ashamed after talking to my mom. But later, I felt better. Taking a swift kick in the ass from her is like shock treatment; it isn’t pleasant, but it clears the head.
Resolution Status
I have been in the gym every day this past week, including Saturday when I went in for some cardio work (treadmill, stairmaster, etc.). I’ve also been keeping with the religion of dieting, with the exception of Friday night when we went to my favorite restaurant in the world - Alamo Café - and had fajitas. I think one or two "bad" meals over the course of a week isn’t doing too badly, though. And although I haven’t weighed myself lately, I am beginning to see a difference in the mirror. It’s still subtle and no one else has noticed, but I can tell. I’ll climb on the scale this week.
Movies
Erica and I went and saw The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise last night. I enjoyed it, for what it’s worth. I can remember really being into the James Clavell novels about Japan (Shogun, Noble House, Gai-jin, etc.) back in the 80’s and this movie brought back nice memories of those. The cinematography was beautiful and it was convincingly acted, so what’s not to like? Well, the ending for one thing. About halfway through, Erica leaned over to me and predicted that the movie would end up with Tom Cruise’s character either committing ritual suicide or dying with his Samurai lord on the field of battle. Either would have been an honorable death in keeping with the Bushido code of the Samurai. And the movie seemed to be moving inexorably in that direction too until the movie-makers apparently lost nerve and tacked on a typical Hollywood contrived happy ending. Not since A.I.: Artificial Intelligence have I seen a movie where the ending felt so jarringly out of sync with the body of the movie. But still, dishonest ending notwithstanding, it was an enjoyable 2 ½ hours and I‘d recommend the movie. A lot of critics (amongst whom I do not consider myself) love to hate Tom Cruise movies. I’ve heard all the criticisms too, how he’s less an actor than a movie star, and how his movies are special effects extravaganzas, etc., etc. I think those criticisms are all bullshit. I enjoy Tom Cruise movies and can’t remember the last bad one he’s made. That includes Vanilla Sky and Eyes Wide Shut too.
The Heartbreak Kid
Yesterday, while at the gym I noticed a guy on one of the stationary bikes. He was really buff, had a ponytail and a really familiar face. It came to me almost immediately that that was WWF superstar Shawn Michaels working out at the same Bally’s that I frequent.
There are two professional wrestlers who live in San Antonio, Shawn Michaels and Stone Cold Steve Austin. My nephew Bobby met Stone Cold at North Star Mall a few years ago while in town visiting us. He told me that Stone Cold was totally "in character" when he met him and that he even hollered at Bobby for squeezing his hand too hard when he shook it. Bobby told me this with an ear to ear grin on his face, too. Anyway, I screwed up my courage and went up to Michaels and said "uh, ‘scuse me but aren’t you HBK?" He smiled and said that yes, he was. We chatted for about five minutes about wrestling, back injuries (he was recuperating from one) and such. What a nice man. What a nice, gracious man. I mean, I’m not a nobody but I’m certainly no one famous and here he is, the fucking Heartbreak Kid fer cryin out loud, a man who is a legend in professional wrestling, talking to me like I’m an old friend of his little brother or something. That’s nice. That’s class.
I don’t know if Vince McMahon explicitly tells his people to be nice and accommodating to the public or not but in my experience professional wrestlers are about the nicest celebrities you can ever meet. I remember chancing across Val Venis, Chris Benoit and Chris Jericho in the Atlanta airport about five years ago. Though none of them really chatted with me (as they had a crowd around them) they all graciously signed autographs for me. Contrast that with future NFL Hall of Famer Emmitt Smith whom I met a few years back in the Dallas airport. Though he signed a scrap of paper for me, he was quite the diva about it. Fucking jerk never even looked me in the eye, either. Even when I told him how great he was (and he was definitely great in the early and mid 90’s) he just muttered "hey, thanks" to the air over my right shoulder.
Erica and I really got into wrestling a few years ago when we were still in Alabama. Mostly, we got into it because of The Rock, and we stopped watching it after he left. Admitting that you’re a fan of professional wrestling ("redneck catharsis" I called it) in polite company is kind of like admitting that you have a heroin addiction. After meeting Shawn Michaels though, maybe I’ll start watching it again.
That’s all for now.
Well, I haven’t blogged in a few days and thought I’d spend this Sunday morning catching up. Megan’s off to church and Courtney spent the night at a friend’s house down the block so I finally have some time to compose my thoughts.
The other day, I wrote my mom an email lamenting that I had to depend on my in-laws to buy Megan a car. She responded to me with the mother-of-all ass-kickings, telling me to get my head out of my ass and realize that the good in my life outweighs the bad by 90% to 10%. She also told me that she was mad at me because of the "aloof" way I acted when she and so much other of my family were down for Christmas. Some of what she said about me were over-reactions, I thought, and some were dead-on. Needless to say, I didn’t really feel like writing that day and even though I attempted a few times to do so, in the end I deleted all of them. Even though I hate self-pity, and would hate to write anything that sounded that way, I want to avoid writing in a way that sounds like I’m trying to "keep a stiff upper lip." I want to write honestly in this journal. And, honestly, I felt a bit ashamed after talking to my mom. But later, I felt better. Taking a swift kick in the ass from her is like shock treatment; it isn’t pleasant, but it clears the head.
Resolution Status
I have been in the gym every day this past week, including Saturday when I went in for some cardio work (treadmill, stairmaster, etc.). I’ve also been keeping with the religion of dieting, with the exception of Friday night when we went to my favorite restaurant in the world - Alamo Café - and had fajitas. I think one or two "bad" meals over the course of a week isn’t doing too badly, though. And although I haven’t weighed myself lately, I am beginning to see a difference in the mirror. It’s still subtle and no one else has noticed, but I can tell. I’ll climb on the scale this week.
Movies
Erica and I went and saw The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise last night. I enjoyed it, for what it’s worth. I can remember really being into the James Clavell novels about Japan (Shogun, Noble House, Gai-jin, etc.) back in the 80’s and this movie brought back nice memories of those. The cinematography was beautiful and it was convincingly acted, so what’s not to like? Well, the ending for one thing. About halfway through, Erica leaned over to me and predicted that the movie would end up with Tom Cruise’s character either committing ritual suicide or dying with his Samurai lord on the field of battle. Either would have been an honorable death in keeping with the Bushido code of the Samurai. And the movie seemed to be moving inexorably in that direction too until the movie-makers apparently lost nerve and tacked on a typical Hollywood contrived happy ending. Not since A.I.: Artificial Intelligence have I seen a movie where the ending felt so jarringly out of sync with the body of the movie. But still, dishonest ending notwithstanding, it was an enjoyable 2 ½ hours and I‘d recommend the movie. A lot of critics (amongst whom I do not consider myself) love to hate Tom Cruise movies. I’ve heard all the criticisms too, how he’s less an actor than a movie star, and how his movies are special effects extravaganzas, etc., etc. I think those criticisms are all bullshit. I enjoy Tom Cruise movies and can’t remember the last bad one he’s made. That includes Vanilla Sky and Eyes Wide Shut too.
The Heartbreak Kid
Yesterday, while at the gym I noticed a guy on one of the stationary bikes. He was really buff, had a ponytail and a really familiar face. It came to me almost immediately that that was WWF superstar Shawn Michaels working out at the same Bally’s that I frequent.
There are two professional wrestlers who live in San Antonio, Shawn Michaels and Stone Cold Steve Austin. My nephew Bobby met Stone Cold at North Star Mall a few years ago while in town visiting us. He told me that Stone Cold was totally "in character" when he met him and that he even hollered at Bobby for squeezing his hand too hard when he shook it. Bobby told me this with an ear to ear grin on his face, too. Anyway, I screwed up my courage and went up to Michaels and said "uh, ‘scuse me but aren’t you HBK?" He smiled and said that yes, he was. We chatted for about five minutes about wrestling, back injuries (he was recuperating from one) and such. What a nice man. What a nice, gracious man. I mean, I’m not a nobody but I’m certainly no one famous and here he is, the fucking Heartbreak Kid fer cryin out loud, a man who is a legend in professional wrestling, talking to me like I’m an old friend of his little brother or something. That’s nice. That’s class.
I don’t know if Vince McMahon explicitly tells his people to be nice and accommodating to the public or not but in my experience professional wrestlers are about the nicest celebrities you can ever meet. I remember chancing across Val Venis, Chris Benoit and Chris Jericho in the Atlanta airport about five years ago. Though none of them really chatted with me (as they had a crowd around them) they all graciously signed autographs for me. Contrast that with future NFL Hall of Famer Emmitt Smith whom I met a few years back in the Dallas airport. Though he signed a scrap of paper for me, he was quite the diva about it. Fucking jerk never even looked me in the eye, either. Even when I told him how great he was (and he was definitely great in the early and mid 90’s) he just muttered "hey, thanks" to the air over my right shoulder.
Erica and I really got into wrestling a few years ago when we were still in Alabama. Mostly, we got into it because of The Rock, and we stopped watching it after he left. Admitting that you’re a fan of professional wrestling ("redneck catharsis" I called it) in polite company is kind of like admitting that you have a heroin addiction. After meeting Shawn Michaels though, maybe I’ll start watching it again.
That’s all for now.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
Thursday's Thoughts
Boy did I ever get some shitty news yesterday. It just got back to us that my old boss, the founder and owner of the company I worked for in Mobile, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. Cancer is bad no matter who gets it but it especially sucks when you hear that a great man like him has it. I worked for him for almost 8 years and, with only very few exceptions, loved every one of them. He is in my prayers.
Boy did I ever get some shitty news yesterday. It just got back to us that my old boss, the founder and owner of the company I worked for in Mobile, has been diagnosed with lung cancer. Cancer is bad no matter who gets it but it especially sucks when you hear that a great man like him has it. I worked for him for almost 8 years and, with only very few exceptions, loved every one of them. He is in my prayers.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Hump Day Miscellanea
Robbie's meeting was rescheduled to Thursday so he didn't come in yesterday. He will be here tomorrow, though. I challenged him to a weight loss contest as he just began his new routine this week too. The contest will measure not gross weight lost but weight lost as a percentage of body weight. We'll take 6 months to do it. Robbie's a devotee of the "Body for Life" program and he keeps encouraging me to read the book and do it too. One thing I do not like about BFL is that you have to take a "before" photograph for motivation. And you have to take the picture in just a pair of shorts.
Eyyyyyye don't know . . .
I can see how it would be good motivation to do that but still . . . how embarassing!
Today was my third day in the gym. I went in this morning and just did some cardio (recumbent bike, ab crunches, and 5 minutes jogging on the treadmill) before hitting the sauna. I know that 5 minutes is nothing to brag about for running however, considering that the last time I was on a regular running program, President Bush's father was president, I'm not too ashamed of it. Gotta start somewhere.
After my workout, I went to my weekly Toastmasters meeting. My club meets every Wednesday at 7:30am. I just joined last month and am glad I did. They're all a very nice, very professional, group of people. We're called the "Business Babblers" and today was the charter's one year anniversary.
I should have mentioned Toastmasters as a "light bulb" to help ward off depression. I'm not a "joiner" by nature. I know some people who will join every club that wants them. I'm the opposite. I am and have always been very reticent about things like that. However, by the same token, I have no problem with public speaking (obviously, since I've had commercials on both TV and talk-radio over the past year) though. No, I am quite the ham in that regard. However, I do want to be a better speaker. Toastmasters is also a good way to get out of my bubble, to meet people who like me are motivated to better themselves. I'm happy to be a part of them.
Robbie's meeting was rescheduled to Thursday so he didn't come in yesterday. He will be here tomorrow, though. I challenged him to a weight loss contest as he just began his new routine this week too. The contest will measure not gross weight lost but weight lost as a percentage of body weight. We'll take 6 months to do it. Robbie's a devotee of the "Body for Life" program and he keeps encouraging me to read the book and do it too. One thing I do not like about BFL is that you have to take a "before" photograph for motivation. And you have to take the picture in just a pair of shorts.
Eyyyyyye don't know . . .
I can see how it would be good motivation to do that but still . . . how embarassing!
Today was my third day in the gym. I went in this morning and just did some cardio (recumbent bike, ab crunches, and 5 minutes jogging on the treadmill) before hitting the sauna. I know that 5 minutes is nothing to brag about for running however, considering that the last time I was on a regular running program, President Bush's father was president, I'm not too ashamed of it. Gotta start somewhere.
After my workout, I went to my weekly Toastmasters meeting. My club meets every Wednesday at 7:30am. I just joined last month and am glad I did. They're all a very nice, very professional, group of people. We're called the "Business Babblers" and today was the charter's one year anniversary.
I should have mentioned Toastmasters as a "light bulb" to help ward off depression. I'm not a "joiner" by nature. I know some people who will join every club that wants them. I'm the opposite. I am and have always been very reticent about things like that. However, by the same token, I have no problem with public speaking (obviously, since I've had commercials on both TV and talk-radio over the past year) though. No, I am quite the ham in that regard. However, I do want to be a better speaker. Toastmasters is also a good way to get out of my bubble, to meet people who like me are motivated to better themselves. I'm happy to be a part of them.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Second Workout
I worked out my triceps and back this morning. Again, I used preposterously light weights and I only did about half the exercises I normally do. By "normally" I mean as in when I'm in a program. Also, as predicted, waking up and getting my ass out of bed proved to be rather more difficult this morning.
All that being said though, I think I'm going to like this program. I've always liked the way I felt after having a morning workout and in fact it used to be a regular part of my routine back in college. Of course, back then "early" meant no earlier than 7:30am. I got out of the habit when I graduated from college and started going to the gym with a friend after work back in the early 90's. As I get older though, I find that that just doesn't work with me any longer. I miss too much time with my family, the gym's too crowded and I'm just too tired to do any good when I get there.
I know it's early but thus far this seems to be working with me.
Robbie's coming into town today for a client meeting and staying with us this evening. Tomorrow morning we'll both head to Bally's at 5:30. I'll just do some cardio (stairmaster or jogging treadmill) while he does whatever he does. Should be fun.
Also, I've got Megan's Stratus in the office to have my mechanic look at it. I drove it yesterday and the smell of burning oil was alarming. I know it has a leak, and I know that as long as we keep topping it off that there shouldn't be a problem, but I won't be able to sleep well (okay, Erica won't be able to sleep well) until it's fixed.
I listened to Nickelback's new CD (it's in Megan's stereo) on the way into work. God, what an awesome band! My tastes in music are admittedly throwback, but I do like some bands today. Nickelback is definitely of of them.
I worked out my triceps and back this morning. Again, I used preposterously light weights and I only did about half the exercises I normally do. By "normally" I mean as in when I'm in a program. Also, as predicted, waking up and getting my ass out of bed proved to be rather more difficult this morning.
All that being said though, I think I'm going to like this program. I've always liked the way I felt after having a morning workout and in fact it used to be a regular part of my routine back in college. Of course, back then "early" meant no earlier than 7:30am. I got out of the habit when I graduated from college and started going to the gym with a friend after work back in the early 90's. As I get older though, I find that that just doesn't work with me any longer. I miss too much time with my family, the gym's too crowded and I'm just too tired to do any good when I get there.
I know it's early but thus far this seems to be working with me.
Robbie's coming into town today for a client meeting and staying with us this evening. Tomorrow morning we'll both head to Bally's at 5:30. I'll just do some cardio (stairmaster or jogging treadmill) while he does whatever he does. Should be fun.
Also, I've got Megan's Stratus in the office to have my mechanic look at it. I drove it yesterday and the smell of burning oil was alarming. I know it has a leak, and I know that as long as we keep topping it off that there shouldn't be a problem, but I won't be able to sleep well (okay, Erica won't be able to sleep well) until it's fixed.
I listened to Nickelback's new CD (it's in Megan's stereo) on the way into work. God, what an awesome band! My tastes in music are admittedly throwback, but I do like some bands today. Nickelback is definitely of of them.
Monday, January 05, 2004
First Workout
Well, I had my first workout on this new 5:30 am routine. I was excited to begin so I had no trouble waking at 5:00, even after going to bed at 11:00 last night. That will change when I get into a sense of routine.
The workout was very perfunctory and my shoulder felt like someone had run a spike thru it, but I persisted. On Mondays, I usually do pecs and biceps along with the daily cardio (in this case, recumbent bike) and stomach crunches. I did three sets of dumbell bench using only 65-lb dumbells. The weights weren't heavy, even after being out of the gym as long as I had, but it hurt my shoulder like a bitch getting the weights up in the air. But afterward, I felt good. My arms were pumped up and I felt a little like my old self.
We'll see how bad the soreness becomes later today and this evening. Tomorrow morning I'll do my back and triceps. That should be fun with a gimpy shoulder.
Well, I had my first workout on this new 5:30 am routine. I was excited to begin so I had no trouble waking at 5:00, even after going to bed at 11:00 last night. That will change when I get into a sense of routine.
The workout was very perfunctory and my shoulder felt like someone had run a spike thru it, but I persisted. On Mondays, I usually do pecs and biceps along with the daily cardio (in this case, recumbent bike) and stomach crunches. I did three sets of dumbell bench using only 65-lb dumbells. The weights weren't heavy, even after being out of the gym as long as I had, but it hurt my shoulder like a bitch getting the weights up in the air. But afterward, I felt good. My arms were pumped up and I felt a little like my old self.
We'll see how bad the soreness becomes later today and this evening. Tomorrow morning I'll do my back and triceps. That should be fun with a gimpy shoulder.
Sunday, January 04, 2004
The Light in the Window
One thing I’ve learned as I try to raise my family and to be a leader at work is that my mind tends to work in terms of metaphors and analogies. I’ve always thought the analogy a useful tool for explaining things to either someone at work or to one of my girls. It makes sense, after all. What could better explain something that’s not familiar to someone than to have it be expressed in terms that are? But it’s not just for that. The more I think about it, the more I find that my mind is awash in metaphors. In some ways, my mind is probably made of metaphors.
The metaphor that I think of when battling depression is the light bulb. I think the light bulb was probably the greatest invention of the 20th century. Greater than the telephone and greater than splitting the atom. Greater even than the internal combustion engine. It was Edison’s invention that allowed Man to fully master his environment. Man could now light his homes, streets and factories without the danger that attended lamps and torches. And to me, the light bulb is the ultimate symbol of Man’s mastery of nature because, unlike fire which is a naturally occurring phenomenon, it’s artificial, a pure product that would not exist had not man made it. It’s a product of pure daring and ambition. What balls it must have taken for Edison to have even conceived of the light bulb. It would be like someone today proposing an invention that suspended gravity, such was the fundamental nature of darkness and night.
When I feel myself falling into a “funk” it’s like the coming of night. I slow down and feel tired. I become irritable and impatient. My thinking becomes hazy and I have to fight against falling into self-pity and paranoia. I become confrontational with people, both at work and at home. I lose my will to exercise and my eating habits go all to hell. At my worst, I will have random spells where I will start crying while sitting at my desk or driving my truck. I won’t think when I’m in a depression, either; it’s like my mind just wants to go into neutral and stay there. When I do think, I usually dwell on my problems, both real and imagined.
Unbidden thoughts of inadequacy, hopelessness, fear for the future, and cynicism are the demons that haunt this darkness of mine.
As you can imagine, I am not easy to be around when this happens to me. I don’t let it totally take me over because even when I’m in the throes of one, I know that it’s something that’s “happening to” me. In other words, I know that what I’m feeling is a matter of perception rather than reality. But still, it isn’t pleasant. I tend to get real quiet when my “black dog” is barking and I withdraw a little from people around me.
However, there are “light bulbs” that I can hold up to keep the darkness at bay, actions I can take to battle it back. First of all, I have never fallen into such a bad funk that a good solid 8 hours of sleep couldn’t cure. It’s like the mind “reboots” itself in a deep sleep, resetting all the emotional settings for the morning. Second, alcohol is no friend to someone battling depression. If I feel like I’m in a funk or am fighting one off, I never ever drink. I have before and boy did it make it worse for me. After all, if you’re depressed, you don’t take a depressant to cure it. Another easy way to fight off depression is to get busy with something. Get from passive to active. Anything from writing to taking a drive to going to the gym will do. The important thing is to get off your ass and do something. Anything will do, just move.
Weirdly enough, another thing I’ve found that really helps me is cleaning. I don’t like things to be dirty. I don’t really like to clean either and I always bitch about it when I’m doing it but I find that when I’m done I always feel better. I like having a clean house. I like it when my carpet is clean and the things in my house that need to gleam do. And I don’t like having a dirty truck, either. You should never bitch about your truck being a piece of shit when strangers are scrawling “wash me” on your tailgate.
But the best “light bulb” I’ve yet found is writing. Being in a depression is in a lot of ways like looking at a funhouse mirror. Your sense of perspective is distorted and your problems appear to be vastly larger than they really are. One way I’ve found to get that perspective back is to write about it. Committing your thoughts to writing forces you to organize them (as in a depression your thoughts are a disorganized mishmash) and this tends to iron out your perceptions. In fact, since I started writing regularly in this weblog, I haven’t had one bad spell. I find that writing tends to clear my thinking and restore my perspective. It forces discipline on my thinking, too. After all it’s hard to write things down that sound whiny or self-pitying if there’s the risk that someone’ll read it out there. When I do write a woe-is-me thought, then read it, it repels me. This purges that disgusting emotion and makes me feel better.
Like creating the light bulb, fighting depression requires the application of will. Edison didn’t pluck the light bulb from a tree, he conceived it and probably went thru hundreds of prototypes before he found the one that worked. Fighting the inner darkness takes that same kind of energy, resourcefulness and persistence.
Tomorrow I begin my new “early bird special” workout routine. I am going to wake up at 5am and be in the gym at 5:30. I’ve already packed my bag and ironed my shirt for tomorrow. It’ll be hell, of course, and I have no idea how well my shoulder will take it, but I’m going to do it. Then, I’m going to do it again and again. I’m going to do it until it becomes as much a part of my daily routine as taking a shower.
One thing I’ve learned as I try to raise my family and to be a leader at work is that my mind tends to work in terms of metaphors and analogies. I’ve always thought the analogy a useful tool for explaining things to either someone at work or to one of my girls. It makes sense, after all. What could better explain something that’s not familiar to someone than to have it be expressed in terms that are? But it’s not just for that. The more I think about it, the more I find that my mind is awash in metaphors. In some ways, my mind is probably made of metaphors.
The metaphor that I think of when battling depression is the light bulb. I think the light bulb was probably the greatest invention of the 20th century. Greater than the telephone and greater than splitting the atom. Greater even than the internal combustion engine. It was Edison’s invention that allowed Man to fully master his environment. Man could now light his homes, streets and factories without the danger that attended lamps and torches. And to me, the light bulb is the ultimate symbol of Man’s mastery of nature because, unlike fire which is a naturally occurring phenomenon, it’s artificial, a pure product that would not exist had not man made it. It’s a product of pure daring and ambition. What balls it must have taken for Edison to have even conceived of the light bulb. It would be like someone today proposing an invention that suspended gravity, such was the fundamental nature of darkness and night.
When I feel myself falling into a “funk” it’s like the coming of night. I slow down and feel tired. I become irritable and impatient. My thinking becomes hazy and I have to fight against falling into self-pity and paranoia. I become confrontational with people, both at work and at home. I lose my will to exercise and my eating habits go all to hell. At my worst, I will have random spells where I will start crying while sitting at my desk or driving my truck. I won’t think when I’m in a depression, either; it’s like my mind just wants to go into neutral and stay there. When I do think, I usually dwell on my problems, both real and imagined.
Unbidden thoughts of inadequacy, hopelessness, fear for the future, and cynicism are the demons that haunt this darkness of mine.
As you can imagine, I am not easy to be around when this happens to me. I don’t let it totally take me over because even when I’m in the throes of one, I know that it’s something that’s “happening to” me. In other words, I know that what I’m feeling is a matter of perception rather than reality. But still, it isn’t pleasant. I tend to get real quiet when my “black dog” is barking and I withdraw a little from people around me.
However, there are “light bulbs” that I can hold up to keep the darkness at bay, actions I can take to battle it back. First of all, I have never fallen into such a bad funk that a good solid 8 hours of sleep couldn’t cure. It’s like the mind “reboots” itself in a deep sleep, resetting all the emotional settings for the morning. Second, alcohol is no friend to someone battling depression. If I feel like I’m in a funk or am fighting one off, I never ever drink. I have before and boy did it make it worse for me. After all, if you’re depressed, you don’t take a depressant to cure it. Another easy way to fight off depression is to get busy with something. Get from passive to active. Anything from writing to taking a drive to going to the gym will do. The important thing is to get off your ass and do something. Anything will do, just move.
Weirdly enough, another thing I’ve found that really helps me is cleaning. I don’t like things to be dirty. I don’t really like to clean either and I always bitch about it when I’m doing it but I find that when I’m done I always feel better. I like having a clean house. I like it when my carpet is clean and the things in my house that need to gleam do. And I don’t like having a dirty truck, either. You should never bitch about your truck being a piece of shit when strangers are scrawling “wash me” on your tailgate.
But the best “light bulb” I’ve yet found is writing. Being in a depression is in a lot of ways like looking at a funhouse mirror. Your sense of perspective is distorted and your problems appear to be vastly larger than they really are. One way I’ve found to get that perspective back is to write about it. Committing your thoughts to writing forces you to organize them (as in a depression your thoughts are a disorganized mishmash) and this tends to iron out your perceptions. In fact, since I started writing regularly in this weblog, I haven’t had one bad spell. I find that writing tends to clear my thinking and restore my perspective. It forces discipline on my thinking, too. After all it’s hard to write things down that sound whiny or self-pitying if there’s the risk that someone’ll read it out there. When I do write a woe-is-me thought, then read it, it repels me. This purges that disgusting emotion and makes me feel better.
Like creating the light bulb, fighting depression requires the application of will. Edison didn’t pluck the light bulb from a tree, he conceived it and probably went thru hundreds of prototypes before he found the one that worked. Fighting the inner darkness takes that same kind of energy, resourcefulness and persistence.
Tomorrow I begin my new “early bird special” workout routine. I am going to wake up at 5am and be in the gym at 5:30. I’ve already packed my bag and ironed my shirt for tomorrow. It’ll be hell, of course, and I have no idea how well my shoulder will take it, but I’m going to do it. Then, I’m going to do it again and again. I’m going to do it until it becomes as much a part of my daily routine as taking a shower.
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Megan’s New Car
It’s Saturday afternoon as I type this, about 3:30. We got Megan a new car today, a 1998 Dodge Stratus. It’s got about 70,000 miles on it and it seems to run well enough, all things considered. It’s a nice looking little car and we only paid about $3,500.00 for it. I know, I know, we really didn’t pay anything for it, but I’m happy that we didn’t hit my in-laws too hard in the pocket with the price. Speaking of which, I was speaking with Olga last night and insisting that I wanted to pay them back for them doing this for us. She refused politely but I persisted. She refused again, more firmly but still politely. I pressed my case further that Megan is my responsibility and that they shouldn’t have to pay for this, and that I would have the money in a few more months, etc. She finally looked at me and said “James, we’re not doing this for you, we’re doing it for Megan.” Nobody can put you in your place like a mother in law.
Now I’ve got to deal with getting rid of the old Cavalier carcass, still sitting in my parking lot. That’s a problem for Monday, though.
It’s Saturday afternoon as I type this, about 3:30. We got Megan a new car today, a 1998 Dodge Stratus. It’s got about 70,000 miles on it and it seems to run well enough, all things considered. It’s a nice looking little car and we only paid about $3,500.00 for it. I know, I know, we really didn’t pay anything for it, but I’m happy that we didn’t hit my in-laws too hard in the pocket with the price. Speaking of which, I was speaking with Olga last night and insisting that I wanted to pay them back for them doing this for us. She refused politely but I persisted. She refused again, more firmly but still politely. I pressed my case further that Megan is my responsibility and that they shouldn’t have to pay for this, and that I would have the money in a few more months, etc. She finally looked at me and said “James, we’re not doing this for you, we’re doing it for Megan.” Nobody can put you in your place like a mother in law.
Now I’ve got to deal with getting rid of the old Cavalier carcass, still sitting in my parking lot. That’s a problem for Monday, though.
Friday, January 02, 2004
Mom to the Rescue
Not much to write about today. Not that there's not much going on, just nothing that's motivating me to write. My in-laws are coming into town to give us money to buy Megan a new car. We didn't ask for it but Erica, while talking to her mom on the phone yesteday, broke down and cried to her about Megan's wreck. Olga told her that she didn't have any money to give us as they had a bad year financially, too. I don't think Erica asked for money either, but was just venting. Anyway, a few hours later they called and told us that they were coming over to give us the money today. I have no idea where they're getting the money, either, and that worries me.
I have been pinching the hell out of my paychecks for the past year so that we'll get a good refund this year. Basically, I'm withholding from my paychecks like a bachelor instead of someone with a wife and 2 kids. I know, it's stupid to use the Federal Government as your piggy bank but it's the only way I can save money. Anyway, I promised them that we'd repay them the moment we got our money from Uncle Sam. They told me that I didn't really have to pay them back but, though I'm incredibly grateful to have their help, I absolutely hate needing to be rescued like this. If I don't repay this, I won't be able to live with myself.
The way I see it is this: we all have our blessings and we all have our crosses to bear. God tests all of us differently, I think. My bane has always been money. Rarely have been the times in my life when I thought I had enough. I do not have an extravagant lifestyle by any means but anyone will tell you that having kids means that you have to hemorrhage money from time to time. And it's going to get worse before it gets better with Megan, an honor student, headed for college in the fall of 2005. I do NOT want to ask my in-laws or my parents to pay for that, either. Jesus Christ, a man should be able to take care of his own family, for crying out loud! But I don't want her to have to wait tables while she goes to a community college and still lives at home, either. It's not that I want her out of the house, I just don't want to have to make her do college on the cheap, like I did.
But while that is my cross, my blessings are wonderful. I have a good marraige and 2 wonderful kids (even if one of them is admittedly a poor driver). I'm in good health overall (my blood pressure and cholesterol are largely normal despite my size) and so is everyone else in my family. Neither Erica nor I really like to drink, both of us preferring to unwind at the local Starbucks to any bar. My kids are happy, healthy, well adjusted and both do well in school. I love my wife every bit as much today as the day we got married. I have never fucked around on her and have never wanted to. And though Lord knows we've had our battles, I know that she loves me and is every bit as committed to me as I am to her.
I think one of the main keys to being happy in life is to not lose perspective. But keeping perspective, especially when things go awry, can be difficult. My challenge is to never lose sight of the fact that my life, while not perfect, is still good.
Not much to write about today. Not that there's not much going on, just nothing that's motivating me to write. My in-laws are coming into town to give us money to buy Megan a new car. We didn't ask for it but Erica, while talking to her mom on the phone yesteday, broke down and cried to her about Megan's wreck. Olga told her that she didn't have any money to give us as they had a bad year financially, too. I don't think Erica asked for money either, but was just venting. Anyway, a few hours later they called and told us that they were coming over to give us the money today. I have no idea where they're getting the money, either, and that worries me.
I have been pinching the hell out of my paychecks for the past year so that we'll get a good refund this year. Basically, I'm withholding from my paychecks like a bachelor instead of someone with a wife and 2 kids. I know, it's stupid to use the Federal Government as your piggy bank but it's the only way I can save money. Anyway, I promised them that we'd repay them the moment we got our money from Uncle Sam. They told me that I didn't really have to pay them back but, though I'm incredibly grateful to have their help, I absolutely hate needing to be rescued like this. If I don't repay this, I won't be able to live with myself.
The way I see it is this: we all have our blessings and we all have our crosses to bear. God tests all of us differently, I think. My bane has always been money. Rarely have been the times in my life when I thought I had enough. I do not have an extravagant lifestyle by any means but anyone will tell you that having kids means that you have to hemorrhage money from time to time. And it's going to get worse before it gets better with Megan, an honor student, headed for college in the fall of 2005. I do NOT want to ask my in-laws or my parents to pay for that, either. Jesus Christ, a man should be able to take care of his own family, for crying out loud! But I don't want her to have to wait tables while she goes to a community college and still lives at home, either. It's not that I want her out of the house, I just don't want to have to make her do college on the cheap, like I did.
But while that is my cross, my blessings are wonderful. I have a good marraige and 2 wonderful kids (even if one of them is admittedly a poor driver). I'm in good health overall (my blood pressure and cholesterol are largely normal despite my size) and so is everyone else in my family. Neither Erica nor I really like to drink, both of us preferring to unwind at the local Starbucks to any bar. My kids are happy, healthy, well adjusted and both do well in school. I love my wife every bit as much today as the day we got married. I have never fucked around on her and have never wanted to. And though Lord knows we've had our battles, I know that she loves me and is every bit as committed to me as I am to her.
I think one of the main keys to being happy in life is to not lose perspective. But keeping perspective, especially when things go awry, can be difficult. My challenge is to never lose sight of the fact that my life, while not perfect, is still good.
Thursday, January 01, 2004
Exeunt Cavalier
We got a call from Megan this morning at about 9:30. On her way home from a friend's house, she ran her car into a guardrail near the intersection of 1604 and 35. I ran out there to pick her up and saw that her car, pretty beaten up to begin with, was smashed all along the left side. Apparently she was on the on-ramp curving to her right and the car lost traction, went off the road to the left and hit the guardrail. Megan wasn't hurt, thank God, but for the car, which was more dead than alive to begin with, this was the coup de grace.
Shit.
I knew that the damned thing was a piece of crap but I was hoping that it would at least get her through the rest of high school. Needless to say, this is not how I wanted to bring in the new year.
Oh, and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen turned out to be every bit as bad I had heard it was.
We got a call from Megan this morning at about 9:30. On her way home from a friend's house, she ran her car into a guardrail near the intersection of 1604 and 35. I ran out there to pick her up and saw that her car, pretty beaten up to begin with, was smashed all along the left side. Apparently she was on the on-ramp curving to her right and the car lost traction, went off the road to the left and hit the guardrail. Megan wasn't hurt, thank God, but for the car, which was more dead than alive to begin with, this was the coup de grace.
Shit.
I knew that the damned thing was a piece of crap but I was hoping that it would at least get her through the rest of high school. Needless to say, this is not how I wanted to bring in the new year.
Oh, and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen turned out to be every bit as bad I had heard it was.
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