Day 244: Hazardous duty...

Being a model is tough work.  I remember chatting with one some time ago and she told me, "to be a model means you're always hungry and always cold."  That's especially true if you're one of those bikini girls.  You're always starving and photo shoots are typically in the winter because in California that's about the only time you'll ever get those clear blue skies.  So the next time you look at a picture of a girl frolicking in the California surf, keep in mind there was probably a bit of Photoshop magic to make her skin not look so blue. 

But even the poor, inanimate objects are not free from danger.  This delicious cupcake from Chantilly Lace Bake Shop was constantly being strafed by a misguided wasp.  Apparently this winged devil thought it was attacking an overly sweet and creamy flower.  And they say I have bad eyes.  We eventually completed the shoot however the well being of this cuppie could not be guaranteed.  Unfortunately for them, when it's time for the production wrap party, these models make the supreme sacrifice.  Yummmm!

Day 243: Vanity...

Boy I tell ya, I was all set to go off on a rant today over the lack of humility I see within my own social circle. The blatant self-promotion, praise parties and general "look at me" things I've heard and read really make me bristle. To share something you've accomplished or created is a good thing. You have every right to be proud and you should show it off so others can share in your achievement. But to splash your own praise onto it is about the most unattractive thing you could possibly do.

Excessively promoting one's abilities and attractiveness is the essence of vanity. Hey, if you're good at something it's a safe bet most of us will already know without you blasting your trumpets. Kinda puts a bitter taste in your mouth when someone does something pretty amazing and before you can say "Great job!" they're already screaming in your face "Did you see how AWESOME I am!?" You could've cured cancer or solved our economic woes but the fact you made such a big production over your own achievement, I can't help but file your accomplishment under "Who Cares".

You've heard the saying that when you point a finger at someone, three fingers point back at you. The more I stewed on this the more I realized I'm just as guilty of these social crimes as anyone else. The fact I have a blog and a Facebook presence pretty much proves I'm an attention whore. I’d like to think I’ve tempered that to some degree but I’m sure I’ve come off just as pretentious as those that set me off. If you've read any part of my blog you'll know that I'm the first one to point out my flaws. That doesn't mean it gives me "Carte blanche" to rag on someone else. I guess when it come to dolling out praise I have a tendency to judge (bad, I know) others as if they were me. I get physically uncomfortable when receiving praise. Can't tell you where that comes from but I've been like that for as long as I can remember. I guess when I hear folks trumpet their own achievements it makes me feel embarrassed because I couldn’t imagine trying to draw so much attention to myself.

Let your actions and achievements stand by themselves. If you have to chime in then perhaps your accomplishments aren’t as significant as you might think. If you’re an artist, display your work but use your inner voice to proclaim your greatness. In business, let your actions speak for themselves and let your boss and your peers sing your praise. Maybe that approach won’t get you the professional success and notoriety you desire. Perhaps we need to start asking ourselves why we do what we do. Is it for fame or personal gratification? Whatever the reason, be sure it’s the right one for you.

Day 242: And another...

So at what point does perseverance become insanity?  Albert Einstein (not to be confused with one of the bagel making brothers) defined insanity as "Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."  I suppose if you aren't happy with the results then you'll definitely want to change things up.  But what if the outcome of your efforts provide some results but aren't apparent or just not in the manner one would expect?  Many of us go to the gym to achieve a level of physical fitness.  If you're a regular at a gym, I'm sure you've seen those folks that go to the gym just as much as you but over the past year you've noticed very little change in their appearance.  Speaking for myself, sure I want to be fit but going to the gym is also very much a therapeutic thing for me.  It takes a lot of the garbage that's been floating around in my head and flushes it out of my mind.  So even if you notice very little change in my appearance, you most likely will notice a change in my demeanor.

Same can be said for jobs, relationships or almost anything else you grind away at on a daily basis.  Some folks may not understand what and why you're doing something.  They may even call you crazy.  Hey, if I had a nickle for every time someone called me that.  The key here is for YOU to know why you're doing what you're doing.  Be honest with yourself.  Are you trying to persevere for something better you know is coming?  Or are you just in a rut of misery that you don't have the courage to crawl out.  Trying to get fit, outlasting a boss who's on his way out or helping a friend or loved one through a rough patch all take perseverance.  But if you have no goal, no objective, no light at the end of the tunnel, think twice.  You may be heading down the abyss into madness. 

Day 241: Legacy...

Guess the history major in me has been working overtime lately.  I may have mentioned that I've been reading a number of books on the history of the old west, more specifically, about our native American Indians.  It truly is a fascinating history and not nearly what I thought it would be.  Like most of you, I got my Old West education from the likes of John Wayne, Gary Cooper and the less than accurate text books. 

"Manifest Destiny" wasn't quite what our history books led us to believe.  It really wasn't a bunch of starry-eyed settlers looking to make a better future for themselves and our country.  On their own, the transplanted European settlers couldn't survive on the great plains without the muscle and savagery of the American soldier to clear a path to the west.  The native American Indian wasn't a nation of noble warriors living in harmony with each other.  Long before Europeans set foot on this continent, the indigenous population spent the vast majority of their time brutalizing and killing each other, usually over land but sometimes just because that's what they did.

Let me be clear I'm neither glorifying nor condemning the native American nor the US soldier.  The histories of both are far to broad to summarize in this blog.  Suffice it to say that both possessed a nobility and wickedness that made the two cultures natural enemies.  Sad to realize there were far too many opportunities where a peaceful co-existence could have been achieved by both sides however greed, politics and self-preservation ruled the day. 

I suppose you're wondering what my point is with all this.  Well, it's mainly about truth and understanding.  As I said, I'm not condemning or glorifying anything here.  Sure there were heinous crimes committed by both sides and as an American I accept them as my legacy.  For me it's important to remove the shroud of falsehoods that Hollywood and our poorly written text books created in order to reveal the truth of our heritage.  I'm understanding more about what both sides had to endure and what motivated them to do the things they did.  For better or worse, whatever the circumstances, that history has gotten us to where we are today.  In my constant search to understand the "why" in someone's behavior, I have to dig deeper to understand from where they came. 

Day 240: Keep climbin'...

Funny how inspiration comes in many forms and in ways we wouldn't normally expect.  I just happened to be looking out on our deck and noticed the two potted vines we put in a few months ago are really starting to thrive.  I remember when we first planted them back in early spring and there were only a few frail branches extending in cockeyed directions.  Almost immediately we had a massive heat wave that nearly destroyed our yard and these poor vines along with it.  I was pretty certain we were going to lose these guys.  But after a month I recall looking at them and I noticed that one, single, skinny branch had slowly made it's way up part of the lattice, precariously hanging onto one of the wood slats.  I look at it now and there are quite a few branches, all scurrying their way up an over the lattice, filling in nicely with lush green leaves.

Kinda makes me think that so many things in life are similar to that poor vine.  The vines are intended to spread out across the entire deck to give us a bit more privacy.  Quite a daunting task for such a little bush.  But it's getting there.  Just one little vine, one frail branch at a time.  I suppose if I talked to the vine and said, "Hey dude, you need to cover this entire deck.", it would've responded with an emphatic "Oh, HELL no!"  But if you look at life one little branch, one slat of wood at a time, the task before you isn't so insurmountable.  Think of the big things you're facing right now.  Can you break them down into "little wood slats"?  Just run one mile.  Go one day saying no to cigarettes or alcohol.  Sign up for one class.  Say "hi" to one person you cross paths.  And after you do that, maybe do one more.  If each day becomes "just one more", imagine where and WHO you'll be a year from now?

Day 239: At a loss...

Well, my biggest fear has finally been realized.  I'm at a loss as to what to talk about for my daily blog.  I knew this day would come.  Maybe because I entertained that thought it actually brought about this predicament.  Yep, no messages, no jokes.  Just blah.  Hmm, kinda sounds like an ad slogan.  Appropriate, perhaps, given we're in the throws of election manure.  

You know maybe the message is there no message.  Just sit in peaceful silence.  Reflect some on the days past and days to come but not so much that it puts me in a spin.  Think of the blessings and good fortunes that have befallen me.  My Julie is finally home after being gone for weeks and just the fact she is here has brought a level of calm I haven't had in quite some time.  I think for many of us it's rare to be able to sit for a few minutes and be clear of thought and no tension in our muscles.  I think today will be that kinda of day.  It's been a splendid day so far.  We did a little yard work this morning then went to church.  Afterwards we stopped off at a farmers market to pick up a few things and the rest of the day is an open agenda.

So that's it for today.  Hope each and everyone of you are experiencing your own form of tranquility.   

Day 238: And flip...

Today marked an interesting twist in our photography business.  For the first time ever I was the primary shooter on a job.  Yep, me, Mr. MFIC for a day.  This time Julie was the lovely assistant and I was the temperamental artist.  A bit nervous?  You betcha.  As I've told you before my subjects all tend to be inanimate objects or an occasional, non-aggressive animal.  Almost never by design do I go out shooting actual, breathing, talking people but this time I got the opportunity to shoot the creative geniuses behind Chantilly Lace Back Shop.  If you recall a few blogs back I've displayed some of their decadent treats.  You should especially go back and look at the ones I had on my birthday.  AWESOME!!!

Chantel and Christina were absolute sweethearts and pretty much did whatever we asked them to.  Won't go into the details now but suffice it to say there was a bit of a mess to clean up after we finished.  Wasn't all that bad being the primary shooter, giving directions and all.  Of course it was great having Julie there to keep tabs on all the details - fly away hair, crooked necklace, wardrobe malfunctions and providing suggestions.  She actually did a pretty decent job as the assistant but she still needs a little work with the sherpa duties.  The primary shooter NEVER carries the tripod, reflectors, props or camera bag nor worries about the setup and tear down of a session.  She'll learn (assuming I get another chance at this).  I think we make a pretty good team no matter who's running the show.  It was a great session and much thanks to Chantel and Christina and their friends who let us use and mess up their kitchen.

Now, it's off to post production!  Hey, where's my assistant??  

Day 237: "She's got a ticket to ride..."

... and contrary to the girl in the Beatles song, my baby DOES care.  After what seemed to be an eternity, my Julie is finally coming home today.  I can't wait!  So no great pearls of wisdom or witty repartee.  Today I'm gonna be a bit distracted.  :-)

See you tomorrow!

Day 236: "Don't make me come up there!!"

Ok I think I have a slightly better appreciation for what my mom had to endure, essentially being a single parent of three monster children while her husband was stationed in Vietnam, twice.  With my daughter now moved back in and bringing with her a dog and a cat, this house is full of four-legged creatures that are chewing on my last nerve. 

Cesar, don't give me that "pack leader" shit about taking charge, showing them who's boss, working with them, training them.  If I can get all four dogs to use the doggie door to take care of business then my work is done.  Anything else is pure gravy.  Being the single pack leader here I don't have the mental of physical bandwidth to provide each and every mutt 10 hours a day of dedicated training.  I do the best I can when I can, they aren't completely neglected.  I think my Sophie is pretty well trained and knows to mind me.  Roscoe is just a whack job and no amount of training will get him to settle down.  Belle continues to refuse to acknowledge that she's a dog and pretty much keeps her distance from all the animals unless she feels compelled to join in on their bark fest when the UPS truck drives by.  Benji, being the new edition, just follows the lead of the other dogs, taking on all their bad habits. 

When I was a kid and my sisters and I would terrorize each other, fight over any and all things in the house, I can remember my mom bellow out, on more than a few times, "DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!!!"  Well, I tell ya, that was pretty much the voice of God.  It was enough to create a cease fire, if only temporarily, because none of us wanted to face the wrath that would smite our backsides with great, stinging vengeance.  There were no discussions, no learning lessons, no compromises based on fairness and logic.  It was all about shutting the hell up and giving mom 15 minutes of silent bliss.  "But she took my....", "Well he broke my...."  "I DON'T CARE!  JUST SHUT THE HELL UP AND GO TO YOUR ROOMS!  NOT ANOTHER WORD!"  Ahhh, I miss my childhood. 

Much like how our moms plopped us in front of the TV, I shove a bully stick into the mouths of my canine monsters if only to give me a few minutes of peace and quiet.  The bully stick is the TV for dogs, in case you haven't noticed.  Roscoe is completely neurotic and can't sit still.  Sophie paces, wanting attention every five minutes.  Benji is a pup and just wants into everything, including Belle's space which pisses her off to no end.  The only way I can achieve peace in our time is to give each a bully stick that should keep them busy and quiet for at least a good five minutes.  It is the true olive branch of peace.  But like all children, once they get their treat, they immediately try to steal from each other.  I swear if they could talk I'd hear, "Why is Sophie's bigger than mine?"  "He stole my bully stick!"  "You love her more than me!"  "I HATE YOU!!"

And my response?  "That's IT!  I've had it with ALL of you!  Go out in the back yard, ALL OF YOU, and leave me alone!  Just wait until your mother gets home!!"

Day 235: Out of touch...

I know it's old news but this thing with Senator Akin has really stirred a hornets nest with me.  Seems odd that many years ago when there was virtually no mass media, the politicians of the day still took great pains to ensure everything they said and did in public was without reproach.  Even our beloved Abe Lincoln, who typically used the "N" word in social conversations and even endorsed the deportation of all blacks in America, carried himself with dignity that commanded great respect and admiration.  Today our "leaders" speak and act in ways that even an 8th grader would find embarrassing. 

How is it that someone like Akin can say such an outrageous thing and still feel that he has a legitimate place among our nations leaders?  Apparently if you're a politician, at any level, you can pretty much say whatever comes into that twisted mind of yours but then follow up with "those comments were taken out of context" or "it was not what I intended to say".  Well what did you mean to say, you moron?  Ever consider engaging your brain before opening your mouth?

Todd, if you thought those comments were so regrettable, how on earth did you make them in the first place?  Do our leaders have no filter?  Even our very own Governor Hickenlooper made not just one but TWO very public and inappropriate sexual comments in one week.  I just have to ask them the question, at what point did your comments make sense?  And the other thing that amazes me is how quickly they both back tracked from their statements.   In Todd's case you just don't change your mind willy nilly on something like that.  It's like saying Hitler had the right idea and then a day later recant your statement by saying what a horrible crime he inflicted on humanity.  Dude, those are diametrically opposing ideas that are rooted in your own moral character and belief system.  To say something like "legitimate rape" is a reflection of your upbringing and educational background, not to mention your moral and ethical standards. 

We like to throw around phrases like "zero tolerance" when discussing children's behavior in school and such.  Why can't we apply that to our elected officials?  Come on, folks.  Once elected these clowns live a charmed life, full of perks and privileges none of us will ever experience unless we win the lotto.  If we are going to indulge them so much why are we not saddling them with greater responsibility and a higher standard of conduct?  Why do we consistently encourage such reprehensible behavior by constantly giving these spoiled little brats a second chance?

In Akin's case I think it represents a very dangerous situation in our government today where grotesquely incompetent people are running this country.  Hey folks, Obama is just one man.  It takes an army of idiots to do the damage that's been done to this country.  When it comes to Akin you have two choices.  One, he either truly believes what he said and only recanted because of political pressure.  Or, two, he's completely out of touch and mentally and intellectually incompetent.  In either case, he has no business being an elected official, or any kind of official unless except, of course, an official asshole.  In that case, bubba, you won by a landslide.

Day 234: It's not you, it's me...

Had a nice session with my trainer/therapist today during my lunch break at the track. In between sprints our conversations centered around issues we've been having with people.  It seems that for whatever reason we've managed to piss off a fair amount of folks lately.  The story always plays out the same.  Someone gets mad at us and treats us like crap.  We get our feelings hurt and immediately ask ourselves the question, "What did I do wrong?"  Ever notice that no matter what bad thing happens to us, we almost ALWAYS ask "What did I do wrong?"  Why is that?  Why do we always assume we're the problem?  Hey, we just might be the problem but why always assume that if it wasn't for us, there would be peace and harmony in the universe? 

You can worry yourself sick over why someone doesn't like you.  I use to but as I've gotten older I care less what other people think of me.  It's not that I'm being a jerk about it (at least not completely), it's just that I realize I have absolutely no control over what someone thinks, good or bad.  Sure, I prefer a good review.  Who wants to be a Ben Afflect movie?  But on the other hand, I'm not looking for an Oscar either.  I'd like to think that if I'm working hard to be the best version of myself, maybe others might look at me and say, "Bit of a dork, but he's an OK guy."  If you're truly being yourself and you're doing your absolute best to be the best person possible, being generous, compassionate and selfless, then you've done all that could ever be expected.  More often than not someone won't like you for one of two reasons.

They don't know you, or
You screwed up.  

Now even if you screwed up, it probably wasn't due to any malice but if it was, then you already know what/who the problem is.  But generally people don't like us because they fail to understand us.  And trust me, I've been guilty of that more times than I can count.  I've had plenty of bad opinions of other people only to have those perceptions drastically change once I took the time to get to know and understand them.  Sure, there are professional assholes out there but their numbers are rather small.  Most of us are pretty decent folk that from time to time aren't well polished.  If you're mad at someone or someone is mad at you, the only way you'll get over it is by sitting down and talking.  "I get the impression I've pissed you off.  Want to talk about it?"  "Hey, you want to know why I did what I did?  Let's chat."

Don't be so quick to saddle yourself with the blame.  Don't be so quick to judge.  Sometimes situations don't necessarily have a guilty party.  Many times it's just a lack of understanding.  Look for the answers instead of looking for the blame. 

Day 233: The Cavalry...

There comes a time in all our lives when moments seem the darkest, when we're at our ropes end, the enemy is closing in and our own annihilation seems inevitable.  At those moments when all seems lost a savior appears over the horizon.  Completely unexpected but bringing hope and salvation to our dismal predicament, they save us in ways words can't describe. 

In an attempt to keep what few readers I have let me be brief.  It's been a difficult month for my wife having to care for her father who recently went through life threatening surgery.  Adversity presented itself in a way that was entirely unexpected and directly affected her ability to attend to her father's recovery.  But when all things seemed to fall apart, two men appeared in her life, men she's known since she was a little girl, to lend her a helping hand. 

They didn't do it to curry favor or win points with the "Big Guy".  They did it because they could, because they wanted to, because they saw someone in need and without question or agenda reached out to help.  Just try and tell me God doesn't perform miracles.  Their generosity was much more than the tangible assistance they provided.  Their unconditional compassion goes beyond words.  I think we all want to do the right thing and would like to see ourselves as generous and loving people but I know we struggle with that.  At least I do.  Sometimes I feel like I don't have enough to give to others and I might hold back from time to time.  I look at these two men and I realize I have a long way to go to be the kind of person I expect myself to be. 

We don't have to be rich to be generous.  Compassion doesn't always come in the form of money.  Just reaching out to help someone in any small measure is a grand gesture.  You never know.  That one, small seemingly insignificant act may be the one thing that truly saves someone.  Every once in a while we need the cavalry to come in and save the day.  But, lest we forget, WE need to be the cavalry, too.   

So, MOUNT UP!

Day 232: Where's the coffee?

I'm sore, I'm tired and I'm up too damn early.  Instead of a lazy day on my recliner watching movies, I'll be busy helping my youngest move back into the house, along with her dog and cat.  Might as well call me Noah.  I've got the animals.  Now all I need is the ark. 

And so it goes.  Life is still great.  If it weren't for the challenges, the rewards would mean nothing.  There's an old Chinese proverb, "May you live in interesting times."  It's also considered a curse.  I guess that's because "interesting times" could mean having to experience difficulties in life.  I, for one, am not a big fan of hardships but I know my greatest life lessons all came from hardships, in one form or another.  I drive along the freeway and see that huge Powerball sign and sigh, "Ah, if only I won the lottery".  Sure life would be a hell of a lot easier but I know deep down that if I had no burdens at all in my life, I wouldn't really be living.  As much as I tread the obstacles I face, I am thankful for them.  Because with every obstacle, you go in as one person and you come out as another.  You may not think so, but every obstacle is an opportunity for growth.  And I'm growin' like a weed!

Day 231: "Warriors.... come out and plaaaaaay"

Yeah, we did it!  The 2012 Colorado Warrior Dash is in the books.  What a blast.  Ran it with my daughter Nicole, it was her first time.  Man, if you ever want to relive your childhood, do the Dash.  Climbing over stuff like the old jungle gyms we use to play on, splashing around in mud but no mom to get mad at you.  Awesome! 

Alright, just one negative and let me vent that and be done with it.  One of the obstacles was a tunnel crawl.  A very small tunnel crawl.  Yes, if you're a little claustrophobic you won't like this.  I get a little touch of it now and then but as part of this race, I wanted to do this crawl.  The problem was there were only three tunnels and HUNDREDS of runners.  By the time Nicole and I got to this obstacle we were standing around for over 10 minutes and the lines hardly moved.  We both gave each other this look of "screw it" and we bypassed this one challenge but we did the rest.  Next time, race coordinator, set up at least six tunnels and save one of them for fast movers.  In the good old days there would've been a Drill Sargent screaming at you to move or in the WAY old days an Egyptian task master whipping you.  Ah, memories....

But the rest of the race was awesome.  Rope climbs up a wall, cargo nets, mesh netting, barbed wire.  LOVE it!  Only thing that would've made it better is if there were grenade and artillery simulators and someone shooting at you.  I will say the mud pit was my favorite.  I don't know what it is but I love sloppoing around in the mud.  Must have been a pig in my previous life.  Hey, some resorts make you pay top dollar to get chunks of mud up your "nether yeahyah".  This year it was the last obstacle versus being one of the first.  I guess they thought it was a safety issue because last year all the obstacles following the mud pit were covered in slick mud.  Hey, it's the Warrior Dash.  Sure someone might get hurt.  Maybe someone won't  come home.  Instead of boo hoo'ing about it, think of it as thinning the herd. 

After we collected our medals it was off to the showers.  Public showers, that is.  Amazing how in any other circumstance folks are quite shy about exposing themselves.  A panty line or slightly visible underwear strap is enough to make nearly anyone blush in shame.  But at the Warrior "Bath" no one seems to care.  Well, except for that 12 year old boy staring at that busty woman with water and mud cascading down her body.  Hey, when you've got significant portions of the Rocky Mountains in every conceivable crack of your body and beer and turkey legs waiting for you at the concert grounds, you pretty much could care less what or who's exposed.  "Bring me my ale, wench!"

So a great day, except I'm still missing my Julie.  I wish she could've been there.  You'll have to excuse the quality of these pictures.  She would've done so much better.  I can't wait until she comes home.

So, next year.  Who's with me??

Day 230: The war to end all wars...

Remember this?  The water hose.  The symbol of summer.  It sustained you during hours of play time in the hot sun.  Sure you had to wait a minute for the cold water to flow but it was like sweet nectar when it finally hit your lips.  But besides it's life giving force, it was also the carrier of watery death.  It stood above all else in the war of water.

In the water wars of my youth, the hose was the weapon of choice.  Actually it was the only weapon of choice.  No fancy trigger attachments like you have today.  One's skill with the hose was measured by how well they could jam their thumb into the opening to spray a rainbow of liquid hellfire into all those who stood in it's path.  Back then tactics were simple.  Someone seized command of the hose and the rest scurried about in a desperate attempt to steal this weapon from it's owner. 

These water wars would wage for hours.  The waterlogged carnage left behind one of these battles resembled a wet Gettysburg.  Over and over we charged the hose bearer only to be repelled again and again.  "Once more into the breech, dear friends" was our battle cry.  As long as you held the hose, no one could touch you.  It was all well and good until one of your more stealthy friends managed to sneak up behind you and crimp the hose.  It was at that split second that the entire fortunes of the water war turned.  The eyes of the enemy rolled back in their heads, black as cool, like sharks that smell fresh blood.  Instantly you were bum rushed and pile driven into the grass as Excalibur was wrestled from your grasp.

History would show that the introduction of the water grenade drastically alter battle tactics.  No longer was it necessary to charge head long into a watery death.  The hose bearer was now an easy target from those with an accurate arm.  Today water warfare is more high tech and has lost much of it's original glory and gallantry.  Water cannons can engage the enemy from yards away.  Gone are the close quarter, hand to hand pitched battles that saw casualty rates at 100%.  For the water warriors of my day, it was a glorious time.  Your manhood was measured by the amount of watery death you could inflict on others.  With the hose in your hand, no man stood in your way.  You were the lord of all.  You were king!

...until mom called you for dinner....(cue playing of Taps)

Day 229: Breakfast...

Our participation in life can be summed up in the following fable...

"When it comes to making a bacon and eggs breakfast, the chicken is involved and the pig is committed." 

So which are you?  The pig or the chicken?  Folks I'm just a bit irritated by what's going on around me these days.  I'll tell you right now if you aren't part of the solution then you are most definitely part of the problem.  We live in an age where the luxury of sitting on your ass and not contributing to the betterment of our communities is no longer an option.  You are either working to make things right or you are dedicated to bringing about our demise.  A little dramatic?  Maybe.   But I'm frickin' tired of all those folks "sitting up in the cheep seats", squawking and complaining about one thing or another but refusing to get off their fat asses and commit themselves to something, anything.  You know exactly who I'm talking about.  The Facebook ranters who seem to have all the answers but do nothing but bitch, moan and complain.  The co-workers who are quick to point out issues or flaws with a project but do nothing to step in and fix it.  Or those friends who have an opinion on everything but believe in nothing. 

Somehow it's now become the widely accepted belief that courage is all about speaking your mind but actually doing nothing.  You sit up in the nose-bleed seats screaming down at the players on the field all the while stuffing your face with things you feel entitled to.  Your hands are soft and clean, clothes immaculate, hair ever so perfect.  But where are your scars?  Where is the dirt, cuts and abrasions that come with committing yourself to something.  Hey, if you want life to be easy and carefree, then knock yourself out.  Just keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way.  You sicken me beyond words.

Day 228: "C.I.T"

I consider myself a CIT.  No, that's not a reference to the movie "Meatballs".  It's "Christian in Training".  Shamefully I admit I keep a bit of a low profile when it comes to my faith.  It's not that I question my own beliefs.  I think it has more to do with the fact that I don't have the Christian playbook well memorized, nor can I rattle off scripture with any great accuracy but more importantly it's because I know I fall short of the expectations of a "good" Christian.

I may not go to church every Sunday but my belief in Jesus Christ and my compassion for my fellow man is no less strong as those who attend regularly.  I sing the songs quietly rather than belt them out like show tunes.  I prefer to stand in reverence rather than sway from side to side with my hands raised above me.  I typically only greet a few folks standing near me, being somewhat shy about walking up and down the pews saying hello to everyone like I'm running for office.  So in many respects I have a long way to go to consider myself a Christian, at least superficially.   

I know this is going to come off pretty judgmental but I have a hard time with the born again, bible thumpers who say one thing but do another.  To come off as if you know all their is to know about your faith, to lecture others on what they need to do, how they need to act, and yet your own behavior is contradictory to what you preach, how do you suppose that looks to those sitting on that fence, questioning the path of their own religious convictions? You say you're a forgiving person yet your behavior is one of vindictiveness when you feel the least bit slighted.  You're quick to judge the behavior of others and will share those opinions with any who will listen yet you openly indulge in vices that are diametrically oppose to your own religious tenets. 

I like to consider myself a loving and compassionate man but I'm certainly no saint and I fall short more often than I'd like to admit.  But the good things I occasionally do are done not because someone in a robe told me to nor do I do them in order to earn points towards eternal salvation.  I do them because it's the right thing to do.  I do them because they must be done.  I do them because ultimately I want that behavior to be a reflection of my best self.  It has nothing to do with anything I hope to receive.  If you're giving with an expectation of something, anything, in return then you're not giving you're actually taking.  If you seek appreciation, gratitude and praise from others for the gifts you've provided, then they are not really gifts.  Those so-called gifts are nothing more than a bill, a burden, a source of anxiety to others because you've put them in a position of having to pay you back in one way or another.  Hey, I'm all for politeness and manners.  "Please" and "thank you" need to be a regular part of everyone's vocabulary diet so make sure you take extra portions.  But consider this, and be honest here, how likely are you to do something good anonymously or when no one is watching?    

None of us are perfect.  Far from it.  It doesn't mean we can't help each other to be better versions of ourselves.  We just need to do that without assuming the role of ultimate authority.  Help those who struggle, letting them know you struggle too, and that together you'll overcome whatever obstacle is in your way.  So when you find that person trapped in that "spiritual hole", don't throw them a rope of judgment and lectures.  Instead, hop down in that hole and help lift them up.  Roll up your sleeves and get dirty!

Day 227: Real heroes...

When it comes to heroes we tend to focus our accolades on our military servicemen and women or the local police or firemen.  But after spending a good chunk of last week and this weekend in the hospital, I'm here to tell you nurses need to be added to that honor roll.  They truly are unsung heroes.

For the days I was at the Denver Children's Hospital, not only was it hard for me to witness my poor niece having to endure tubes and needles being stuck in her, I saw helpless little toddlers and infants that were plugged into one machine or another and it was all I could do to keep my composure.  By the time they said it was ok for Hannah to go home I was emotionally drained.  You have to know that just witnessing all that suffering by such beautiful little beings is so heart wrenching.  How could someone deal with that day in and day out for months or years at a time?  Nurses do that with a smile on their face and a song in their heart.  I hate to admit but if it were me I'd be taking vodka intravenously just to cope. If you want to know real strength and courage, look at a nurse.

Now on a lighter note, when the hell did nurses get to be so cute?  Call me naughty but the thought crossed my mind a couple times where I wished I was a kid admitted into this den of beauties.  Heck, even my sister noticed that one of the nurses looked like a young Signourney Weaver while another looked like Anne Hathaway.  But my favorite was Emily.  She was attending during my niece's procedures and was an absolute angel to Hannah while being incredibly easy on the eye.  Yeah, my sister even said I was a bit shameless in my flirtations.  Hey, I'm an old guy, I'm harmless and isn't it my right of passage to seniorhood to be a dirty old man?  But not once, though, did I say, "How YOU doin'?"  I do have my boundaries.

But seriously, I'm so thankful for this army of caregivers and I personally feel they get forgotten in the course of bringing us back to health.  The doctors are like the quarterbacks.  They score the touchdowns, get all the cheers and write ups.  But none of that would happen without the linemen, the ones that take a beating on every play to make it possible for the quarterback (doctor) to shine.  Nurses give more than just medicine.  They give hope, comfort, compassion and a sense of calm, very much what our moms gave us when we were scared or had an "ouchy".

So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.  You truly are one of God's little angels. 

Post Script:  In my defense of leering at the nurses, my wife has also been at the hospital lately caring for her father.  She was very quick and quite brazen to point out the fact that her dad's doctor looked exactly like Jon Hamm, who plays Don Draper on "Mad Men".  She makes no secret over the fact she's got a SERIOUS crush on him.  I will say it's a bit awkward when in the throws of passion I'm referred to as "Mr. Draper!"  Hey, I'll take it any way it comes. 

Day 226: My Sisters...

It was under unfortunate circumstances that I got to see my sister Suzanne this past week.  Fortunately all things turned out well with my niece, Hannah, and we all finally managed to spend an enjoyable and relaxing evening together.  If only my oldest sister Stephanie were here, the visit would've been complete. This quick visit made me realize how much I miss my sisters. 

These days we're all scattered about between Montana, California and Colorado.  But when we were kids, living the lives of Army brats, it was pretty much just us.  It's been a rare occasion since the day we left Germany together that the three of us have been together.  The last time was during our parents 50th wedding anniversary in Carmel several years back.  I think one of the fondest memories of that trip was when the three of us and our spouses went to the only bar, heck, the only establishment in Carmel that was open past 9:00.  Haven't laughed like that in a long time.  Just makes me wish even more that we all lived closer to each other. 

Even though we don't chat much I hope my sisters know how much they mean to me and that they are always in my heart.  I'd never be the person I am today without them.  I love you guys!

Day 225: Generosity...

Funny how at the moment I start to lose faith in humanity, humans throw me a curve ball.  As you know it's been a rather difficult week for my family.  Julie is in California with her father who is really struggling with his recovery from surgery.  My niece was flown down here from Montana for blood clots in her legs.  For the past month I've pretty much lived a bachelors life, feasting on mac n cheese and turkey sandwiches.  My neighbors across the way have been keeping tabs on me and are well aware of my situation.  Yesterday while I was out mowing my lawn, in between hospital visits, Steve and Debbie came over with a homemade lasagna dinner complete with fresh salad and bread.  It was an incredibly sweet and generous gift.  We're expecting my niece to be released today and it looks like tonight they're going to have a home cooked meal thanks to two very wonderful people. 

I can't begin to describe how grateful I am for their generosity.  I'm sure to them it was no big deal but to me it means everything.  More than just a great meal, it's a reminder that compassionate people still do exist and it's also a lesson that the one true way to prevent the extinction of compassion in our society, I must be compassionate myself. 

Day 224: Morning run...

It's been a week of weeks.  For the most part I think my niece and father-in-law are out of the woods and are on the road to recovery.  It's been a tremendous blessing for our family.  With all the stress and anxiety of the week, I really needed to blow off some steam this morning. 

I went to a local track to incorporate some speed work into my training.  Keep in mind that "speed" is a relative term.  As I was attempting to sprint around the track there was a younger guy basically jogging around the outer lanes that stayed well out in front of me no matter how hard I pushed.  Hey, I've already accepted the fact that my "glory years" are behind me.  But there's still fuel in the tank and I managed to get in a pretty decent workout. 

But this morning was more than just working up a sweat running in circles.  It was some alone time for me to reflect on the events of this past week and in a somewhat disjointed way, say "thank you" to God for pulling my family through.  I say disjointed because I still struggle with what or how I should pray.  It seems no matter how I try to emulate the flowery words I hear at church, I find my prayers are more like a conversation with a friend.  Maybe that's how it should be.  Well, He is my best friend.  The one who always has my back.  Takes me at my worst. Always encourages me.  Sets the standards for how I should live my life.  He's patient, understanding and above all, loving.  Guess that's why I never feel alone. 

He's always there, just like He was this week.  For that and for all the blessings He's showered upon my life, I am eternally grateful.  

Day 223: ..Answered

[SPOILER ALERT]  No, Virginia, there's not a Santa, but prayers ARE answered, and sometimes just the way we want them.  Thank you LORD!  Thank you for watching over my niece and father-in-law during their surgeries yesterday.  It was a stressful time for all.  God must have been thinking, "Dude!  Lighten up.  Everything is going to be fine."  Guess that's why He's in charge and I'm not.  No words can describe how relieved I feel.  I know both Hannah and Jim have some recovery ahead of them but I believe they're out of the worst of it.  It's so hard to be apart from my Julie but it definitely worked out for the best, with me being here with my niece and her family and Julie there with her father. I'm so thankful to all of you who kept our family in your thoughts and prayers.  Blessings abound and our cups truly runneth over.  Here's to another glorious day and a speedy recovery to Hannah and Jim.

Side note:  Just wanted to share a couple of pictures I took at the Children's Hospital in Denver.  What a tremendous facility and what a wonderful staff.  Alas, I have to send back the fisheye lens I rented.  I know what I want for Christmas.  :-)

Day 222: Prayers...

"Give ear to my words, O Lord,

Consider my meditation.

Give heed to the voice of my cry,

My King and my God,

For to You I will pray.

My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord;

In the morning I will direct it to You,

And I will look up."

Psalm 5

For Hannah and Jim, my love and my prayers for you.

Day 221: Perspective...

I'm loving this new lens I rented through BorrowLenses.com.  The fisheye lens is so cool and really brings out a whole new perspective on things.  Hard to pull myself away from my favorite lens, the 17-40mm wide angle, but this fisheye opens up a fresh point of view that I otherwise miss by always using my same old lens.

I freely admit I'm a creature of habit and I have a hard time budging from my perch from where I look upon the world and cast my judgements.  I know, it's bad enough that I do judge things and people from time to time but certainly what makes it worse is that I sometimes fail to move from my perch and look at things from a different perspective.  My judgements and assessments all tend to come from one angle and I'll never see things or people for what they are unless I'm willing to step down from my throne, step out my comfort zone, and try to see things from a different point of view.  I hear people rant and I struggle to understand why they feel the way they do.  Unless I'm willing to do something about it my struggles will continue.

"Walk a mile in another man's shoes", a somewhat overused cliche but it does ring true.  Instead of coming to a quick judgement as to why that co-worker is coming off like such an ass or why your kids lash out at you, take the time to understand where they're coming from.  We need to recognize that there's something motivating that behavior and unless we understand what that is all we'll do is feed their anger and just make matters worse.  Sure it means taking the high road and taking a punch, figuratively, but in the end it'll help calm that anger and give assurance to that person that you do care and understand.

It's a struggle, I'll admit but someone has to take that first step.  Hey, sometimes the view is better from another perch.

Day 220: Pride...

Boy, I don't know what it is but I can get SO spun up over a sporting event that I only watch once every four years.  Other than the diehard fan, who really keeps up with water polo, soccer or beach volleyball?  Well you'd think listening to me ranting every evening that I was a coach or something. 

It is a little frustrating, ok a lot frustrating, to see the US do so poorly in some events.  I know we can't kick ass in everything, unlike the Chinese (that's a hard one to swallow), but we should at least be serious contenders in every sport.  I mean, come on, we're the U.S. of frickin' A!  I guess it goes back to my childhood where competition was all black and white.  Good versus evil.  My naive perception was that we were right and pure and good and everyone else was backwards or evil.  It's up to us to show the world that the righteous will always prevail.  Ok, a little out there I'll admit.  But can you blame me?  I grew up during the Cold War.  Back in the day we were the underdogs, the only ones willing to stand up against the playground bully (the Soviet Union).  Nowadays I think we've become that bully and I think many countries cheer just as hard to see their own competitors win as much as they do to see Americans lose.  When did we get to be such bad guys.  Oh, wait, I know, another time.

As much as this country pisses me off I'm still very proud to call myself an American.  And I still watch these Olympics with hopes that our competitors will come out on top because we do represent, in principle, the very best of mankind.  Sure, we're stumbling a bit right now.  Our politics and our economy blow and our values, as evident in our culture, are eroding, but at the very core this country was built upon the highest virtues of humanity.  We just need to go back to school and relearn what those virtues are.

In the mean time, let's go kick some serious ass!  USA!  USA!  USA!

Day 219: Confessions of a photographer...

So this afternoon I was scrambling to find something interesting for today's blog.  I cruised over to Boulder, my go-to spot, thinking I might get a good landscape shot especially with all the storm clouds coming and going.  I was chatting with Julie while I was spying a nice shot of Chautauqua and I mentioned to her there was a young couple there who were probably getting their engagement portraits done.  We joked about how much of a challenge that is and she gave me the idea to write/photograph about that.  

Alright, I freely admit, I REALLY don't like shooting portraits.  And I'll tell you right now it's only because it REALLY makes me nervous.  Now that doesn't mean I don't like shooting people (with a camera, that is).  I just internalize a tremendous amount of pressure to get the picture right.  The Boulder Flatirons are what they are.  Sure it's nice if I can capture a shot that's a little more unique than the tourist snapshot but for the most part there's little to do but take in this natural beauty.  People, on the other hand, are a major challenge.  It's all about proper lighting, flattering poses, putting them in and keeping them in a good mood.  But the unnerving part is they're always looking at you.  Somehow I think they must smell the fear in me, like a horse or a dog does.  I'm not 100% confident in what I'm doing and I feel like they must be thinking, "this guy's a wreck." 

Now I'm pretty good as a second shooter, preferring to "snipe" my shots.  Julie does all the hard work getting them posed and relaxed.  All I have to do is step back at an angle and I can usually get some really nice candid shots.  When it comes to leader/follower in portrait photography, I'm definitely the follower.  She can take the least attractive person and make them look gorgeous.  I, on the other hand, can take an exceptionally attractive person and make them look hideous. I don't know, it's a gift.  I guess with all the landscape shots I take it's no wonder I make people look like rocks. 

My wife Julie, who's also my mentor, is exceptionally gifted at shooting portraits and I've learned so much from her.  I know what needs to be done when taking portraits.  I can't tell you how many times I've looked over at other photographers while they're shooting someone and I'm thinking, "oh, man, you need a diffuser... oh, just bounce a little light up in their eyes.... DON'T pose her like that, you're making her look fat!"  But taking charge of a portrait photo session is a bit daunting for me.  But if you ever need an assistant, I'm your man.  I have no problem shaming myself into making kids and adults laugh.  I'm pretty exceptional with diffusing and bouncing light.  And I'm very good at finding the stray hairs, the wrinkle collar or the twisted necklace.  Ladies, trust me, I'm NOT looking at your breasts.  I'm just trying to make sure everything about you is perfect. Trust me, you'll appreciate it when you see the prints.

But if I had to choose, I'll take boulders over babes any day. 


Post Script - Day 3 of being the single guy and I'm officially over turkey sandwiches.

Day 218: Slumber party...

How is it that a peaceful nights sleep has become more illusive than Sasquatch, the Lochness Monster or a US Olympic gold medal in ping pong?  I can remember the days when I could sleep in as late as 10:30 or 11:00 on weekends and how my alarm would actually serve a purpose in waking me up for school or work.  I can remember being so incredibly depressed, rolling over to look at my alarm clock only to see that I have to get up in a few minutes.  Nowadays I get depressed when I notice I have a good three to four hours before I have to get up yet I'm wide awake. 

Perhaps it's because as we get older we have more stresses, more angst that occupy our lives.  During the day we are frantically trying to put out fires that crop up so we don't think much about all the issues we're facing.  It's at night when things have quieted down that our minds say "Hey, my turn!  I've got some things to discuss."  Trying to quiet our minds is like laying down a couple of sandbags to stem the tide of a tsunami.  This whole "be in the now" goes the way of the Dodo and we spend the night spinning our brains around one stressful event to another.

I know there are lots of remedies for sleep.  Diet certainly plays a role in how well we sleep as does maintaining a balanced frame of mind. Booze is an alternative but that only helps to put you to sleep fast.  You'll eventually wake up and spend the rest of the night in a fitful dance between being not quite asleep and not quite awake, or worse, with your head in a porcelain bowl.  There are medications but many of those will make me groggy and a bit grouchy in the morning.  As my wife will say, "Uh oh, there's Mr. Cranky Pants."  

Ah but to be a dog.  To sleep any where, any time, and with such contentment.  Even Roscoe, my high strung, neurotic poodle can sleep soundly.  Can't say I've ever seen Sophie toss and turn, roll over on her back and just stare up at the ceiling.  I've never seen her sitting up in the middle of the night watching Animal Planet or reading her Kindle Fire, trying to induce sleep.  Nope, she just lays there sprawled out on her doggie bed, breathing deeply, content as can be.  Sure, they have very few worries in life but dogs have obviously figured out this whole sleep thing.

So my new mantra for tonight... "Be the dog, be the dog...."  Except when it comes to eating, bathing, and pooping.

Day 217: Empty nesting...

After spending a week with a full house, this boy is going solo!  Once again I will be master of my domain.  Our niece and her family just left to head home to Idaho and my wife is heading out to So Cal to be with her father.  For the next few weeks it's me and the dog and a couple of rats (aka, poodle and chihuahua).  So, what should be my theme song?  The Fifth Dimension's "One Less Bell to Answer"?  Nah, I think I'll do my best Tom Cruise and rock out to Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock n' Roll".  Sorry ladies, no full body shots.  I think I'd suffer by comparison.  WOO HOO, I've got the house to myself!!  Holy crap, did I just say "woo hoo"?  Somebody shoot me.

Day 216: TGI Finally...

Ever have one of those Fridays where everything seemed to go right?  Work was light.  You were on your game.  No one screwed with you.  You broke the tape of a long work week with your chest out and head up.  If work was a sport you'd be an Olympic gold medalist.  You busted out of your office light on your feet, anxious for the wicked awesome weekend to start.  When you fired up your car to cruise home the radio station played not one but THREE of your all time favorite jammin' tunes that you hadn't heard in years.  All was perfect in the world.  If only you could bottle that moment in time.

But alas, not all Fridays end that way.  Far too often they come at the end of a very long and grueling work week where you pretty much felt like a human punching to everyone you crossed paths.  Instead of soaring into the weekend, you were more like that baseball player rounding third, tripping on the bag, stumbling and bumbling until you finally face-planted on home plate.  Like a boxer who was spared a severe bitch-slapping, being saved by the bell, you stammer to your corner in hopes that the cold splash of water, better known as the weekend, is enough to re-energize you into the next round.  You find yourself dreading the coming work week instead of enjoying that very brief respite from the beatings you faced all week.  But I tell ya, ya gotta lift yourself up off that mat, brush yourself off and look life straight in the eye and say, "Bitch, that's all you got?"

The next round belongs to you.  Life may have gotten in a couple good shots but you're stronger than that and you can definitely take a punch.  So enjoy the weekend.  Put on some of your favorite tunes, pour yourself a cold one and take satisfaction in the fact that life still hasn't brought you down.

Besides, if Roscoe can handle the humiliation of a girly haircut, I can handle anything the week throws at me.

Day 215: Live and let live, sorta...

Ok folks, I'm just a little more confused than usual.  What the hell is going on with this Chick-fil-A and gays?  I'll be honest it's a pretty insignificant blip on my radar but apparently, if Facebook is any indication, the entire country is consumed by gay chickens or something like that.  Someone is in favor or against gays or gay marriage or gays eating chicken or gay chickens eating people.  I don't know.  But why the hell should I care?  I like my grilled chicken sandwiches but I don't think my being straight has any bearing on the quality of the sandwich.  Maybe if I sprinkled glitter on it.  I don't know.  What's the big fuss?

Wasn't it the late, great Rodney King who said "Can't we all just get along?"  I mean why aren't we throwing a fit over the fact that cows are endorsing a global genocide against chickens.  Haven't you seen the commercials?  Nobody seems too excited about that.  But MSN reports that there was a "firestorm" of complaints by viewers who happened to witness the "Free Willy" during the women's water polo match where a microsecond of boob-age was televised by NBC.  Hey, it wasn't like it was Christina Hendricks doing a full frontal.  Why make such a big stink?  During a live telecast, which is what everyone wants, a little more skin than expected was captured on TV.  Do you REALLY think NBC planned that?  If they did (Seacrest), they would've telecast a naked towel fight between the synchronized diving teams in the men's locker room.  Oops!

I'm sorry folks but I really can't get too hyped up over this whole gay thing.  I'm just as repulsed by two men going at it as I am of that young hetero couple that's getting all Cinemax on the table next to mine.  "HEY, I'm eating here!!"  We all have our own belief system and whether all gays go to hell or spend eternity working a Vegas floor show it's not for me to judge.  Live and let live.  Be gay, be straight.  Personally I like and respect you for your character, not your lifestyle choices.  I believe we will all be judged according to our life's resume and being gay or straight is just one of a number of bullet points we have to answer to.  I don't know about you guys but God will be raising an eye brow over a number of things I've done in my life that have nothing to do with where I've parked Mr. Johnson.

Day 214: "The Sun Also Rises"

 “I can't stand it to think my life is going so fast and I'm not really living it.”

The Sun Also Rises

Ernest Hemingway