The Struggle is (can be) Real

(Reposted for readibility issues)

First, I will be very open that I blame myself.

Mostly.

Partly.

Anyway, I know that I am pretty rough around the edges. I am kind of living proof that, regardless of what Mythbusters said, you cannot polish a turd. I know how to be nice, I have enough of a vocabulary that I can speak well and express myself without resorting to vulgarity. Expressing myself is usually fairly easy. Doing so without resorting to vulgarity is the hard part. I do better while writing than I do while speaking.

Maybe I should get a bark collar to shut me up.

No, I would probably learn to like it.

I have a pretty developed sense of humor and can tell some pretty funny jokes. Again, the hard part is doing so without resorting to vulgarity. I need to work on that.

My phone makes a specific tone when I get certain alerts on it. Usually related to oen of the cameras outside detecting motion. Most likely, it is a car turning around in the cul-de-sac or a neighbor's cat prowling the yard. Either way, the same tone goes off when I come home. The camera first detects the motion of Max (my truck) pulling into the driveway, followed by the garage door opening as I walk up the driveway. Dougall, bless his heart, has learned that the tones mean that someone (hopefully me) is coming in. He hears the tone, then lifts his head and looks toward the door or out the front room window. If I am home when he reacts to the tone, I tell him "Your Uber is here!"

I laugh every time. He does not appear to appreciate my joke.

I can speak and express myself. I consider myself to be fairly intuitive and appear to have the presence of mind to use common sense. I am not a poet, neither a writer, and claim no creative talents. I try to be kind. I pick up litter. I make every attempt to get along with others, although I do not suffer bullies. I defend those who cannot or will not defend themselves. I am not a jealous person, but fully admit that I may be envious of another at times. (Queue the Homer Simpson meme...)

One more thing I can lay claim to is that I am old and getting older. I used to be older than dirt, now I am older than rocks. Getting old/older means that you start to lose a lot of friends. Age, illness, life in general, means that shit happens. About the time of my 20th high school reunion, I did a little investigating and discovered that my graduating class had at that time, more deaths than any three of the years prior to or following. Out of the seven years of graduating classes, the year I graduated had a lot of dead people.

I preach that correlation does not equal causation. Still, that is a very interesting statistic. What was it about that year that was so fatal?

So, I have lost friends and I have lost family. Some due to death, some due to just growing apart, and I surmise that it will keep happening. Distance has a lot to do with it. Many people who once were friends have moved or I have moved away from them. Distance may make the heart grow fonder, but it does not foster a relationship that includes "Hey, want to get some pizza?" Some friends have the appearance of only wanting to be friends as long as I can get them something, as long as I can do something for them. Once that stops happening, they stop calling or texting and stop reaching out.

On the family side of things, I have lost a bunch due to death, a bunch due to distance, and lately the determination has been that I just do not have what they want. Whether it is something tangible, something personal, or maybe they just do not like my jokes, the common denominator is me. Most of my family is separated by distance. Understandably, it is difficult to reach out when you live so far away. Life happens. People get busy. People have their own lives to attend to. I would not think to set their priorities for them. I do recognize that I am not one. I will get over it.

Mom and dad taught me that you do not always have to like everybody, but you should at least be courteous and respectful. Do not bully another person. Do not allow another person to bully you. I know that they both always wanted to have close ties to family. There were reasons, but they did end up relocating to other parts of the state and country, and I suspect that some of the reasoning for that was to just stay out of the proximity of the anger and hatred they received from "family" and it was easier to just go somewhere else. Over the years I watched how they were treated. I understand the choice to just be somewhere else.

I also got to witness firsthand the animosity from other family members as I became the target by default. I will get over it.

There were other words I had written, but I decided that they were words that I need not share. I do not need to stoop to that level. What is in the past, is in the past. I know that there are relationships that will never mend, and that I am the poorer for that. Maybe if I were a better man, I could see that happening. List it as just another of my failures. I will get over it. Besides, nobody reads these notes except myself. I do not promote this blog, and neither do I share it with those I know. They really do not want to read this.

And, as I mentioned, I blame myself.

The Struggle Is (Can Be) Real

First, I will be very open that I blame myself.

Mostly.

Partly.

Anyway, I know that I am pretty rough around the edges. I am kind of living proof that, regardless of what Mythbusters said, you cannot polish a turd. I know how to be nice, I have enough of a vocabulary that I can speak well and express myself without resorting to vulgarity. Expressing myself is usually fairly easy. Doing so without resorting to vulgarity is the hard part. I do better while writing than I do while speaking.

Maybe I should get a bark collar to shut me up.

No, I would probably learn to like it.

I have a pretty developed sense of humor and can tell some pretty funny jokes. Again, the hard part is doing so without resorting to vulgarity. I need to work on that.

My phone makes a specific tone when I get certain alerts on it. Usually related to oen of the cameras outside detecting motion. Most likely, it is a car turning around in the cul-de-sac or a neighbor's cat prowling the yard. Either way, the same tone goes off when I come home. The camera first detects the motion of Max (my truck) pulling into the driveway, followed by the garage door opening as I walk up the driveway. Dougall, bless his heart, has learned that the tones mean that someone (hopefully me) is coming in. He hears the tone, then lifts his head and looks toward the door or out the front room window. If I am home when he reacts to the tone, I tell him "Your Uber is here!"

I laugh every time. He does not appear to appreciate my joke.

I can speak and express myself. I consider myself to be fairly intuitive and appear to have the presence of mind to use common sense. I am not a poet, neither a writer, and claim no creative talents. I try to be kind. I pick up litter. I make every attempt to get along with others, although I do not suffer bullies. I defend those who cannot or will not defend themselves. I am not a jealous person, but fully admit that I may be envious of another at times. (Queue the Homer Simpson meme...)

One more thing I can lay claim to is that I am old and getting older. I used to be older than dirt, now I am older than rocks. Getting old/older means that you start to lose a lot of friends. Age, illness, life in general, means that shit happens. About the time of my 20th high school reunion, I did a little investigating and discovered that my graduating class had at that time, more deaths than any three of the years prior to or following. Out of the seven years of graduating classes, the year I graduated had a lot of dead people.

I preach that correlation does not equal causation. Still, that is a very interesting statistic. What was it about that year that was so fatal?

So, I have lost friends and I have lost family. Some due to death, some due to just growing apart, and I surmise that it will keep happening. Distance has a lot to do with it. Many people who once were friends have moved or I have moved away from them. Distance may make the heart grow fonder, but it does not foster a relationship that includes "Hey, want to get some pizza?" Some friends have the appearance of only wanting to be friends as long as I can get them something, as long as I can do something for them. Once that stops happening, they stop calling or texting and stop reaching out.

On the family side of things, I have lost a bunch due to death, a bunch due to distance, and lately the determination has been that I just do not have what they want. Whether it is something tangible, something personal, or maybe they just do not like my jokes, the common denominator is me. Most of my family is separated by distance. Understandably, it is difficult to reach out when you live so far away. Life happens. People get busy. People have their own lives to attend to. I would not think to set their priorities for them. I do recognize that I am not one. I will get over it.

Mom and dad taught me that you do not always have to like everybody, but you should at least be courteous and respectful. Do not bully another person. Do not allow another person to bully you. I know that they both always wanted to have close ties to family. There were reasons, but they did end up relocating to other parts of the state and country, and I suspect that some of the reasoning for that was to just stay out of the proximity of the anger and hatred they received from "family" and it was easier to just go somewhere else. Over the years I watched how they were treated. I understand the choice to just be somewhere else.

I also got to witness firsthand the animosity from other family members as I became the target by default. I will get over it.

There were other words I had written, but I decided that they were words that I need not share. I do not need to stoop to that level. What is in the past, is in the past. I know that there are relationships that will never mend, and that I am the poorer for that. Maybe if I were a better man, I could see that happening. List it as just another of my failures. I will get over it. Besides, nobody reads these notes except myself. I do not promote this blog, and neither do I share it with those I know. They really do not want to read this.

And, as I mentioned, I blame myself.

Friends, networking, and helping

Every once in a while, I will I will post on Twitter or Facebook something about "It's all about networking". I have truly been blessed to reach out and find old friends, family and new friends. Some of these people I see weekly, some I haven't seen for years and decades, and others I have never met. I am so grateful for these friends.

Some of the postings are funny, some are sad, some are angry and some are cries for help. The networking is a good thing; you can get and give suggestions for places to eat, services needed, or even make connections to run races together, go shopping or ride motorcycles. We can share pictures and videos, jokes and concerts.

Sometimes the jokes don't make sense, at least not to me, and sometimes an opinion gets shared that you don't agree with, or someone doesn't agree with yours. It's all good - it's LIFE!

Sometimes the mean people or haters come out. Most often the haters are people that have a voice simply because they have a venue to use. They validate their opinions and denigrate yours they same way they would control an in person conversation - they "shout" (all caps) and they repeat their words to overwhelm you with their own logic. The worst ones that I've dealt with are the ones demanding some kind of tolerance for their particular "whatever" but refuse to to allow you your own opinion.

Really? I have to accept and even approve of your ideal but you get to sit there and tell me mine is just wrong?

Every once in a while, I have been lucky to converse with someone who decides to be brave enough to share something personal with me. Sometimes funny, sometimes angry and sometimes pain. A handful of days ago I was blessed to be able to talk with someone about some pain they were holding. I hope I helped. I hope that I was able to provide some sort of relief and comfort.

I know I would like to thank them for trusting me enough to share something personal.

I'm not going to user her name, suffice to say they she falls into the category of "known her for decades, haven't talked for years". I can say that I've got some kindred feelings with her. She'd been hurt by someone in her family previously and was the unfortunate recipient of continued pain from the mistreatment by this person. I went through the same thing, but I've already written about that in another blog. Read it there if you want, I'd prefer that the focus here is on my friend.

She reached out one night with a post on Facebook. I misunderstood what she posted initially, I blame it on being tired, could be I'm a little slow. We posted comments for a few minutes then went private to have a more personal conversation. As she spoke about what was really going on, I offered what small comfort I could, commiserated with her, and was just there for her. Well, electronically there for her.

I'd like to think that she got something more out of it than just typing late one night. And if you're reading this now, know that I still offer an ear, a shoulder, or even just yell at me to vent.

I'd also like to ask anybody that DOES read this to please watch, please be aware that sometimes what people post on Facebook and Twitter is an attempt to say that they are hurting. Maybe they are just lonely, maybe they are just dealing with a moment of stress. Maybe, as with the other night, they are venting to release some pain.

I firmly believe that we are charged with serving one another, helping as we can, and offering what we are able to. We volunteer for things that are important to us. Please, when you find yourself in a position to offer, volunteer to help a friend.

And, to my friend, I care. I hope you are finding a way to heal. I hope I helped.