Christmas Bliss

Still trying to make up a few missed workouts, I once again headed out to the gym this morning. As I was turning into the parking lot, still without a solid plan, other than the shower kidney punch idea, to stop Chatty Cathy gym guy I don't know from talking to me, I noticed the parking lot was empty.

Not able to accept my good fortune, I crept into the gym looking in every direction. Even when I didn't see anyone I half way expected someone to pop out from under a weight or something. But it was true. The gods of gravity had blessed me with an empty gym on a Saturday morning.

Like a kid in a candy store, I wasted no time getting to it. I cranked up my mp3 player to drown out the music being blasted over the gym speakers and drifted into a weighted world of bliss. I was mad man too. I added extra sets, extra reps to my sets and more and more weight to my reps. Even though I knew I shouldn't go there, I went there. It was a beautiful thing. I mixed muscles that ought not be mixed. I pushed myself and then pushed a little more. For one solid, pure golden hour I was in a zone. My zone. The world stopped turning, time stood still. If there were problems in the world they weren't mine, at least not then.

As I was taking off my gloves to leave, another guy walked in. He asked me, "if I was done." I told him, "I was" and not to expect too much from his workout because I didn't leave anything in there for him. "It was that good?" he responded. "Like connecting with a good left hook to the kidney. I knocked it out" I said. He smiled. I smiled back and left.

Life is good.

HO HO NO!

I think the gig is up! A few days ago my oldest was asking a lot of questions about Santa Claus. Then yesterday he came to me with a covert plan to set up video surveillance to catch the big red jolly fat man doing his thing. I tried to explain that smarter kids than him have tried to catch the big man in action and failed.

My performance wasn't all that convincing though. He had all the evidence he needed . Photos of him at the mall with Santa. Video of Santa rolling down the street in a parade. And commercials, those damn commercials, on every channel. Proof that Santa can be recorded.

In the end I feel like I may have bought him another year of believing in the actual man and sled routine but I'm still going to check the chimney for tripwire and motion detectors before I put the presents out this year.

I'm not ready for Santa's visits to stop yet.

I ... He enjoys the milk and cookies way too much.

My Songs #8

Continuing from my previous post, 10 Songs that have helped me define how I feel, how I see myself or how I see the my world over the past few years.

Whatching The Wheels
~ John Lennon

People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely youre not happy now you no longer play the game

People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that Im doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Dont you miss the big time boy youre no longer on the ball

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round

I just had to let it go

Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them theres no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them theres no hurry

I'm just sitting here doing time

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round

I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go

When "Hey" really means "move the hell out of my way"

Listen up Mr. Man at the gym I don't know. I didn't get up at 6:00 AM on Saturday to chit chat with you. I'm sorry, really sorry, that the exercise I needed to do just happen to be next to you. You seem like a real nice guy but if you haven't noticed, this isn't a social club.

I don't care how much you use to weigh, how much you can lift, how many inches your legs are or how many pounds you lost. The name and cost of your supplements isn't good conversation either. Why are you pushing them so hard anyway? Are you a vitamin salesman or something? Well actually I know you're not because you told me about your job, your work schedule and your up coming business trip.

Again I'm sorry (for me) that my mp3 player hanging out of my ears didn't give you a clue. Or the fact that I kept trying to lift even though you kept right on talking. Even when I walked to the other side of the gym you just raised your voice so I could hear you, which by the way was worse than being next to you.

Here's a little tip. Sometimes when someone says "hey" to you it might not be because they are striking up a conversation but rather to get you to move from in front of the weights they need. Maybe if you talked less, that two hour workout you bragged about could be cut down, to say, a hour. You know, a hour, like the hour I WASTED this morning. GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

Stay Back

Has anyone given any thought to microwave ovens???

Follow me here. The door that protects you from the microwave radiation is made of glass or some sort of plastic. The dishes you place in the microwave oven, in most cases, are made of glass or plastic. If the microwaves can penetrate the containers holding the food why can't they escape through the door made of the same material?! I don't think they are heavy enough to be lead lined or something like that. What the hell?

Mine is mounted above the stove, about my head height. I'm not making any connection with that and my receding hair line but then again...

Please Please Me

A few months ago Time Traveller left a comment on a post of mine:

"he has an obsessive need to please people" (referring to me)

I'm sure she meant it in a nice way but I must admit the comment stayed with me. Maybe because it was close to the truth or maybe because it exposes another truth in my life that I'm having a hard time dealing with at the moment.

Yes, I like to please people, to make them happy. I always have. Maybe I do it to a fault, if that's possible but that's not why the comment stuck with me. I've always known that about me. I've always thought it is one of my better attributes. It stuck with me because lately it's become a source of frustration and irritation.

In a perfect world I could continue doing things to make people happy and the reward of seeing them happy would be all I would want. But that's not reality, or at least that's not my reality. No, with all I try to do to make the people in my life happy eventually one question starts creeping into my mind.

Does anyone care if I'm happy?

Selfish? Sure, but damn, you would think that these people, who not only accept my gestures of goodwill but EXPECT them and in some cases demand them, would want to return a little bit of the kindness. Oh, they offer. They say the things people say but words are hollow and without action they have no real meaning do they? See, I believe my actions, more than my words, are some proof that I care. It's not the only way to show it but by doing even the little things it should signal to them that I feel their burden, understand their desires and respect their dreams.

So every once in awhile I wonder where my proof is. Believe me, I look. Not to keep score but to make sure I'm giving credit where credit is due. Maybe that's a problem too but I have my eyes open and I don't see it. Don't get me wrong, the people in my life do things for me. They do the stuff they have to do or do because there is no inconvenience to them. The rest seem to be gestures that aren't based on anything that would remotely make me happy. I know I'm a big bastard for saying this. I know it's suppose to be the thought that counts but does it count if there is no proof that any thought went into it at all? In fact, it frustrates me further that they don't take even a second to consider who I am or what I'm about.

I'm not pinning my happiness on them. I know being happy is my responsibility. Over the past few years I have done a lot to understand that fact and have tried to adjust my life accordingly. I am happier for it too. Still, shouldn't the people who love me, and I do believe they love me, derive some pleasure for providing some part of that happiness? Or am I just an oddball who thinks this way?

So, should I stop trying to please people? Just go about my life and if something I do happens to make someone happy great but if not, oh well. Is that my answer? I don't even think I would know how. I don't want to either. I like helping a guy lift a big box into his car at the hardware store, getting out a buggy for the person behind me at Walmart or just holding a door open for someone. I like making the people I love happy even more. I like being that guy because I like to think I am that guy but lately that guy is not only feeling less than pleased but like a sucker as well.

With The Wife down last week, I had to spend more time in the grocery store, more than my usual never that is. While looking for an easy dinner idea I stumbled upon what could be the the biggest scam going in the grocery store industry.

As I was looking at frozen pizzas, I noticed there was three cheese pizza, four cheese pizza and, you guessed it, five cheese pizza. Now get this, they were all the same price! Seriously, what kind of fool do they take me for? I grabbed two of the five cheese and swaggered right up to the counter. I just wonder if the cashier noticed the smirk on my face as I thought about getting 10 cheeses for the price of six. SUCKERRRRRS!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Why not just tell me I'm a jerk?

For the last two months The Wife has been unwell. I made her go to the doctor a month ago and told her to slow down many times after that. Not much I could do about her not listening to me. She was determined not to miss any festivals, fairs and Halloween events. Then, last Wednesday she woke me up and said she couldn't take the kids to school. I made her go to the doctor again and I took care of the kids. Two days later, after she spent two full days in bed, she was admitted into the hospital. She has pneumonia that is resistant to antibiotics.

As I was taking care of the kids, my sister called to offer support. She was a little upset that my parents, who live so close, weren't doing much to help me out. I agreed that it would be nice to get some help but taking care of my family was my responsibility and not theirs. I explained there was no need to be upset with my parents, I could handle it.

Later, as my parent were visiting The Wife in the hospital my dad mentioned that my sister was coming in town early for Thanksgiving to help her with the kids. My dad also mentioned, for reasons I can't even begin to understand, that my sister had asked him to have a talk with me. It seems my sister blames ME for The Wife being sick. She thinks I never give her a chance to get a break. That I keep her trapped at the house and don't do much to ease her burden.

Now, I know she doesn't know what happens at my house. She lives out of town and has no idea how our life is structured. It really doesn't bother me what she thinks I do or don't do for my family. I know the truth and so do they. It also doesn't bother me that she told my dad to talk to me about it. He knows what I do too.

It doesn't bother me that if my sister thought about what she did know she would see the truth. Like the week The Wife spent WITH MY SISTER in Mexico while I watched the kids just this year should have been a clue. Or the concert in Atlanta she attended with MY SISTER that she wanted to got to but wouldn't because she had already had me take off work too much this year and it was expensive but I talked her into going.

And it doesn't bother me that my sister mentioned to my dad that I get to do something for myself by going to the gym three nights a week for an hour and The Wife never gets her own time. Because I know all the kids are in school and The Wife has free time during the day and frequently meets her friends for lunch and stuff. She also doesn't know that I let The Wife sleep in on Sundays, my only day off, as I get up early to feed the kids, clean the house and do other things that need doing. Or that I ask The Wife almost every weekend if she wants me to watch the kids so she can go to town and do something she wants to do. See, I like being home with the kids.

None of that bothers me but what does bother me, what really chaps my ass is how my sister got the impression that I don't do all these things. She just didn't come up with this stuff out of thin air. It had to come from somewhere in some form or another. Even if she is just reading between the lines of what is being said, somebody has to be telling her something and it could only be The Wife, my mom or both. Neither of which has ever even suggested to me that I'm not being fair to my wife. In fact both, on many occasions, have told me that I need to get out more and do more things for myself. I'm a little confused by this situation. And bothered, as I said.

So, with all that leading the way, let the holiday season begin. Holy shit!

more press mess

I had planned to stop posting about our biased press, but then I saw this. The first half of this segment is an excellent demonstration of what I've been talking about.