Sometimes I take myself and the minor problems in my life too seriously. Certainly we all have challenges, obstacles and roadblocks and some are insurmountable, but overall we just put one foot in front of the other it all works out. If you are a believer like me in the end we receive our just reward with our Creator in Heaven. I am wont to wallow in my grief, and unable at times to realize the insignificance of our problems but for the most part I can stay in the moment and be happy..

  Usually just passing by a homeless person on the street, witnessing an accident or some other tragedy can snap me back to reality and make me realize the gift that has been given me. For one, I was recently married to a high school sweetheart that has changed my life in a dramatic way. Sometimes all I have to is to look into the faces of my children and realize all is right with the world. I have friends scattered across the country, endless opportunities and quite frankly right now I have all one could ask for.

   This is the season of thanksgiving, the season of receiving and the season of giving. Take a minute and look around and see what you have been given no matter how trivial. Give thanks for the gifts you have been given, and above all give back those gifts to others. No other season matches this one. Let us not squander it, but use it in the way it is meant to be. Reach out to old friends, give to those less fortunate and most of all be able to receive the gift given to you, life, love, and salvation. Accept this gift from me, my friendship, my help whenever I can give it, my love for you as a fellow human being and the hope that this next year is better than the last, full of joy, love and success. Give this same gift to others and watch it come back to you.

   These are really all we have to give each other. This year let us give these gifts in abundance and with sincerity. Share what we have, rejoice in the chance that we can still have peace on Earth and good will toward men. Do not give up on the dream of happiness, wealth and abundance no matter how you measure it. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and may you all be blessed with what you need and want.

   It is the holiday season now in the United States and most other countries of the world. During this time of year we here in the States and others abroad celebrate with thanksgiving for what we have and celebrate a gift that we were given. It is during this time that many people will travel to what, or gather in what they call "home." I have begun to wonder exactly what constitutes this place we hold dear, this place we are drawn to, or draw others to for celebrations, for remembrances, for feasts and fasts, for safety and for love. You will have to bear with me on this one as I may wander through my somewhat self-constructed belief system founded on my knowledge and faith.

   I am a believer. I believe in God the Father and His Son and the Holy Spirit. I believe as I have wet my beak in the knowledge of physics and math and as a history major in college that the existence of the Trinity is irrefutable. Bear with me please as I am not proselytising, but rather trying to describe something that we see as a place, something we feel we can go to and leave at will. To me this place exists inside each of us. It does not stand on a street or quiet boulevard. It is a gift we have been given and it is at this time of year that we give thanks for this gift and in return try as best we can to give this gift to others. For me I have come to realize that home is truly where the heart is. I know that sounds trite and cliche. However, in my experience and analysis and from what I know to be true and what I believe, we have been given a home that is not made of bricks and mortar, or of plaster and wood. We have been given a home that is a construct of love and faith, of salvation and peace. We only have to look inward to find it.

   As a child of divorce and having been married and divorced more than once, as a person who has been through some of the worst natutal disasters to strike the country I have seen all the material things that I owned, all the walls that protected me, the roof that sheltered me, shattered and washed away both figuratively and literally. I have found myself standing awestruck by the swiftness that what I once thought was mine, that what I once thought was eternal simply vanished and was gone, out of reach and forever and inexorably changed. I have shed countless tears and wasted many days trying to recover and regain the material things that I thought made up what was my home. Things that no matter how many times I reacquirred were easily lost again, things that I thought defined me and defined my "home".

   As I sit here today writing this I know I am home and wherever I am I will always be home. I hold home in my heart, in the faces of my children, in the memories of my paraents and theirs before them. I hold home in the memory of friends once known and now gone, in the knowledge of friends here now and those yet to enter my life. My home is the gratitude I have in my heart for all that has been given to me, for all of those people who have fed me, that I have fed and those who through our shared grief have consoled each other and shared a commonality that cannot be denied or taken away.

   We have the capacity to give and receive love and we must be adept at doing both. For only through being able to receive can we give back and we must give back to keep that which has been given. That is our home. That is my home. I have a home forever in me that can never be taken from me or swept away. My home is a place of love for all who dwell in it and a place of safety and joy, gladness and celebration for myself and those who visit. Sometimes my home is messy and in dire need of repair, but I have been given the tools to rebuild it no matter what assails it. It has room for infinite love and has as much to give. I will try to protect it and keep it, to honor it and strengthen it and welcome all who enter and my hope for everyone is that they have the same. A place to always dwell in love and peace and call home.

    I had the need to go through some of my old documents the other day. Those pieces of paper that define us, that tell our story, those papers by which the State validates our existence and our journey through life. Having been married to some compulsive women and thanks to my mother I am fortunate enough to have most everything that validated my journey from birth to the present. I had a specific document in mind when I started, but before long that was lost in the remembrance both bitter and sweet that these pieces of pressed pulpwood brought forth.

   Like an old song, the smell of a favorite dish, or the particular feel of a given day I was being taken back down the road that I still travel.. It is a strange thing about traveling backwards in time. The trip is linear and there are no forks, no clouds and everything is clear and present, sharp and painful. At times it is soft and inviting to find that one particular memory and wrap yourself in it for the moment and then release it back to breeze that blows against us as we move forward. The road forward is is never downhill and there are innumerable forks. Unlike the road behind us the road forward cannot be glimpsed but at each step and the next step is just over the rise and cannot be seen. As humans we press on as long as we are able. Some lose strength and stop to rest, never to take the journey up again, only to become a piece of paper in the stack of memories to those that knew them.

   Strange how that search for a particularly important piece of paper morphed into a meditation yet once again on my life and the lives of those around me. Some still here and others resting under a shade tree farther back down the round than I care to think about, still visible, still able to be seen, but never met on the path we still walk. These meditations and memories serve to strengthen my resolve and bring me back to the path ahead. Too many times in the past few years I have been tempted to stop, to take seat for just a minute and rest. Maybe just to catch my breath and let my tired aching feet take a break.

   But I don't. I can't. I remember all of those who did that and will not see today, be in this moment, see the sunrise or set again. I am not being maudlin or morose. I am not morbidly obsessed with the loss of those once loved and held dear I am just living. I resolve to keep the gift given to me and from this moment and every moment going forward to cherish the gift and receive it as it was intended. For me to live, for me to experience and share. From now on I will not hold back and I will allow myself to receive the precious gift of each moment. I resolve also to share it...with someone, to allow love in and to allow love out to others. As I press on, behind me scattered in the wind are a stack of papers that mean nothing. They do not validate me...I do, my life does and believe it or not as you cross my path or walk with me for a while we will validate each other with gift that has been given us.

 

 

   I shy away from writing about politics. No, wait, shy away is not a good phrase. I shun it it. I loathe writing about it and for me since I am not in the business it seems ludicrous as a way of life. However, with all that is going lately I am compelled to include it in today's writing. Much is going on around the world in area of political struggles and the never ending maneuvering for power. If you think about it we do it on the micro level in our everyday lives as well. Sometimes I think it is a lack of inner calm or peace that brings this about. That lack of inner calm or peace brings about fear and in turn with the fear we begin to seek power over others.

   For some reason man has always sought power over others, for personal gain, evil, yes I said evil, and some sense of safety, but I think the seeking of power is out of fear. When we fear we need to have control over our situation because once we are afraid we must admit we have lost control over our selves. It is this self control and elimination of fear that I strive for more often lately. Fear drives me more than any other emotion. It forces me to make judgments, right or wrong, about others. It forces me to make choices that may have brought about something better, but the fear of failure stopped the effort. To counter balance the notion of fear man has come up with courage. The best definition of courage I have heard is doing something while still being afraid.

   Based on the above definition we are all courageous. We go about pour daily lives doing things that we have an innate fear of, and in doing them conquer that fear and move onward. Some of these things are mundane, such as public speaking, driving to work, or asking for that raise. Others are a little more daunting and do not need description here as we can name too many. The point is we need to realize that fear is what drives us, what motivates us, the one thing that determines our life's direction is fear. We must also realize that this fear exists in everyone. Anyone who claims they are unafraid are liars, foolish and to be avoided.

   I meditate each day. Some days not in a formal sit in a lotus position and hum way, but I take time to be still and listen to myself. I quiet the cacophony of voices telling me what I should be doing, what I need to be doing and listen to the voice that tells me what I want to be doing. In this inner being I always find that spark of fear. The fear of stepping out of the norm and being ridiculed, the fear of some unknown and unknowable physical danger, the fear of being alone and the ever present fear of being wrong. I examine what it is I really want, simplify it, qualify it and study the consequences. The one thing I always realize is that the consequence of not doing the thing, the ramifications of not making an attempt always outweigh the the consequence of failure. So I focus on the doing and not the failure. I study and analyze and go through the attempt before examining the end result. Because to not try; that is the real failure, and after all it is the fear of failure that drives us all. I know it drives me as I start over, over 50.

   We all have our detractors. Some of us for some unknown reason, or reasons have more than others. I guess it it is a subjective issue to each one of us. I remember as a child being baffled every time someone took a dislike to me. I was indifferent and aloof when it came to others. I stayed close to those in my circle of friends and while I held no animus towards those on the outside I did not give them much thought either. As I grew older I came to realize that there were people in this world that did not like me for many reasons and people that despised me for no reason I could discern.

   It is still that way. It used to hurt me greatly when I knew people felt this way. I used to have a sort of fear of these people too, afraid to get too close and find out what they really thought and have my happy little picture me burst before my eyes and my weaknesses, ugliness, and terrible traits laid bare for me to see. Back then I apparently liked to live in denial. I assumed that I liked me so every else must feel the same. Again, I truly felt no animus towards any one person, I guess it was my aloofness and lack of awareness that may have offended others. As I have grown older I have certainly done things to cause people to dislike me. Some things that are pretty bad and some things that when summed up together seem even worse.

   There are also people I know that dislike me for reasons of their own that I had nothing to do with. Those that I know I remind of some one thing they said, or did and do not want to be constantly reminded of so I am the target of their disdain or hatred. I have no problem with this for two reasons. I may have had a part in the act they no longer want to remember. We may have been together during a particularly bad time that brings back terrible memories better left buried beneath the debris of the past and only revealed through a careful sifting and cataloguing of the contents. My presence may bring this out more readily. The other reason is that maybe they have wronged me somehow and in seeing me they are reminded of what they are capable of. Maybe they are reminded of a part of them they do no wish to acknowledge so I am the easy target.

   There is another more simpler answer though. It may be to some people I am simply unlikable. Maybe there are things about me that just seem to bring out the dislike in others. I know in my life there are people like that for me. Don't ask me why, and while I try not to judge and to assume the best of everyone, there are some that I just cannot like no matter how hard I try. I have come to grips with both issues. I realize that no matter how hard I try there are plenty of people that may tolerate me, but in no way do they like me and there are people that elicit the same reaction from me. It's okay. To those who do not like me, I am okay with it. You do not matter nor do your opinions matter any more than my liking you, or my opinions of you matter. However, remember I am a son of the south and will remain genteel as long as possible. I will suffer the boor for as long as possible and dodge the slings and arrows of your vitriol for as long as I can, but I will eventually return to what my father told me is the only thing some people really understand and that is a punch in the mouth either metaphorically or for real. I will weigh my options carefully though as I start over, over 50.

   I have written in the past of my compulsion to write being the primary reason for putting my thoughts down into this format. I have also found however, that sometimes I am compelled to shut up. For one reason or another I find myself with thoughts and ideas about burst from my skull yet some unknown force prevents me from sitting down and doing it. Oddly, I do not find it frustrating nor do I endure some sort of internal struggle trying to battle forces bent on my spewing forth nonsensical claptrap that has no meaning other than to occupy blank space on a page.

   This recent hiatus came from a trip I took to visit a very good friend halfway across the country for some much needed if not deserved escapism. I have been living within myself for so long lately that an outside distraction was sorely needed. I flew far to the northern end of the country to enjoy some professional sports, good company, food, and fermented hops and barley. When I returned I felt like a different person in some ways. Not a new man, just somehow different from when I left. It is amazing what a change of scenery and some new people around you can do for your perspective.

   I still face the same issues. I still have some of the same hills to climb yet they somehow appear less daunting and not nearly as high.I know that no matter what, everywhere else in this world are people just like me facing the same things, some far worse, on a daily basis. My hope is they have friends similar to mine. The quantity is not the issue, but rather quality. I have a rather small circle of friends (at least in my view) that judge not, criticize when needed and help all the time in whatever way they can. That is all a man can ask. I only hope I am as good a friend to them as they are to me.

   In hindsight after writing today I can see why there was a lull in my work. Sometimes some things do not need to be said right away. Some times things need to be put aside and of course sometimes some things need never be said at all. Having friends and cultivating relationships is what we as humans were designed for. We are social animals and for the most part altruistic. We were not meant to be alone and I really do not know a single person that would stand by and not lend a hand when needed. Today I will continue to carry my friends with me because that is the poultice on the wounds of my soul. Friendship is the elixir of life, the fountain of youth and the cure for all maladies of the heart and soul. Have a dose of friendship today, offer a treatment for a broken mind, heart or soul and be a healer for a little while. I will do that today as much as I can as I start over, over 50.

   There are a lot of things I had planed to write today and the rest of the week. Subjects that I am sure were deep, profound and enlightening. However, far more talented writers than I have done such a great job of if I would think any attempt I can offer would to be too sophomoric and not capture the gravity of the situation and or give any sense of new meaning or any closure to such a still fresh gaping wound.The one that happened 13 years ago today.

 What  happened today thirteen years ago was a horrific act than can only be characterized as senseless mass murder committed cowardly ideologues. Somehow in our zeal to improve, what
 needed  to be done and done quickly be cane apparent we were the bad guys. The whole mess in this area was our fault micromanage, or to generally make life better for those who we thought and others thought were like us . We the devil, Christians, thieves and idolaters who had come to kill the men and rape and enslave the women and children caused all of this carnage and death. Ha we stepped in the world the world have Settled in to blissful state of Utopia and we would all live happily ever after.

   Current and past event suggest otherwise. There far too many major and minor conflicts that could at any moment make the whole mess explode and not be be able to stop until mutually assured destruction is achieved. These lands are ancient and have been occupied by many tribes and groups back and forth wars as raged on. The victor wants land for as long as he could hold it. I cannot see that  stopping Foreign intervention foments these struggles as each tries to whisper dreams of untold wealth, power and continued United States promises of high-tech whiz bangs to show during military parades

   In an ancient area of the Middle East the situation is forever fluid and changes as as there hours in a day. A culture that celebrates death is a very hard one to defeat. We have learned from the Vietnam War that we cannot change the minds and hearts of most of the people. When fighting an oppressed impoverished  people the locals need to be on the front lines. WE provide support, search and rescue and medical, but past that we can do much else other than supply and arm them and offer training and Intel. and Evacuation as a last resort. We cannot fix the entire world as  admirable as that may be. Certain ideologies will never be open it. I think that in life when are beset by those around determined  label an categorize us as "A certain Way". People who have convinced themselves they know us and can see right through us, let them. They now have plenty to do having solved the enigma that was you and know they just that much more. Be glad  for as they are now being so enlightened to trip to Nirvana is that much closer. Also to remember to to forgive. Try to practice everyday. Not necessarily everyone and all the time sometimes not but just in prayer you sent to ask that forgiveness me note and passed forward So I guess it' about forgiveness. " I tried to get down to the heart of the matter, but will gets week and my thoughts seem to scatter,, but I think it's about forgiveness, about forgiveness. I willl continue this practice more and more I  I hope as I start over, over 50

   As a child of two rather tough parents tears and lamentations were rarely if ever tolerated. My father was a marine and is a Korean War veteran. My mother was a marine for a short period and worked and raised us the rest of the time. When I left the sixth grade I was given an award for never missing a day of school from first through the sixth grade, if you were breathing you were okay. Needless to say my parents were strict and had high expectations. I am not complaining in any way and that upbringing has served me well through the years. I have developed a hard outer shell and managed to weather some pretty tough storms and come through the other side intact and happy.

   However, I have mellowed some as I have aged and I look back at some of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that have come at me and I have a different take on things now. Certainly I still believe in the old stiff upper lip and all that, but I also see the value in taking the time to feel the pain of a particular situation. Sometimes I think that we can shed tears at the same time we maintain that stiff upper lip and let that lip quiver just ever so much. I am not talking about the tearing of clothes, gnashing of teeth kind of reaction, I am not suggesting that one sit Shiva for days because of an emotional pain. What I am suggesting is that to be healthy, to really feel, and to really learn something we need to let the pain come, acknowledge it and really feel it.

    At one time I had a short career in hospital administration. It was a difficult job, fraught with many difficulties from the top to the bottom. The nurses that I worked with were smart and tough and had developed a rather hard attitude towards problems. One of the phrases I often heard when confronting any difficult problem was "you have to let it bleed". The first time I heard this I had no idea what it meant even though it was explained to me. Now I think I can see the logic and simplicity of this statement. Just like issues in any corporate environment we are faced with problems that seem insurmountable and issues that require the help or acquiescence of others when dealing with life issues. I think now that sometimes we just have to let it bleed a little while. 

   I am learning now how to better handle emotional loss. Physical loss does not seem as difficult, but when faced with end of a relationship, or separation, or lengthy illness I think now that it is better if I allow myself to feel the pain. I will not let it debilitate me and I will not give the one who caused the pain the satisfaction of knowing I hurt, but I will allow myself to feel it. In feeling it I can better remember the cause and be forewarned in the future. I will not make a public display and will tell precious few around me that I hurt, but I will...hurt. I think it may be healthy. I am not really sure. I know that up to this point that while the hard outer shell has served me well, it may be time for a molt if you will. I am not saying anyone else needs to go this route, but I am going to feel for a while, even it hurts a little, as I start over, over 50.

   The sky is falling! Chicken Little ran around the barnyard screaming this phrase after something  above him fell on his head. Seeing no other obvious explanation he came to the conclusion that the sky was falling. After reaching that conclusion he made it his duty, his sacred obligation to warn the residents of the farm that the world was ending because the sky was falling. That was his reality. He drew a conclusion based on the how he perceived what was happening around him.

   I am a big fan of social media. Unlike many others of my generation I find it very useful and it makes it easier for me to stay in touch with old friends and a way to make new ones. One of the more interesting phenomena that I have noticed with social media is the never ending need for people (and I have been one of them) to warn everybody of the impending downfall of this great nation and the "coming to a theater near you" end of the world. There are people of every political leaning, religion, and even cults on the web today and they all want to be heard and want me to know that I am either wrong in my beliefs, or that no matter what I believe I am doomed anyway.

   I used to respond to each and every one of these rants or declarations, debating people I do not know and getting myself worked up over things I have no control over and things that really do not matter. Most people I encounter ranting about politics, religion, economics, etc are sure we are doomed and that things are nothing like they once were. The idea that things are changing is true in one sense, and that is as we age we start to see things from a different perspective. Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Plutarch, Cicero and F.Scot Fitzgerald all lamented about how the youth of their time were out of control and had no sense of decency, time, place, or honor. They were sure that forces were aligned that would bring about the end of society.

   One thing I have learned as I have aged and faced the constant changes life brings is that the gentlemen named above were right. The youth of today and society as a whole seems to have lost their way. From where I sit now I can see where this sense of doom and the impending end of our world comes from. It comes from a better understanding of life and how what we do can effect things on a larger scale. I am developing a calmer approach to things now. As things around me change I am determined to remain in a state of stasis. I know now that although I have an opinion it does not always have to be expressed and it may only be valid to me.

   I am trying to refrain from political discussions and debates about religion, history, economics etc. I engage in friendly banter and conversations about sports, my children, food and other mundane topics that tend to keep my blood pressure on an even keel. I am no longer anti anything. I am pro or for many things. I have decided to remove as much as I can the negative view from my sight. I understand that the world is in a precarious state, but I also know that throughout history this is pretty much the norm. Wars have raged, uncertainty has ruled the day and it seemed as if the world was on the brink of total destruction. Yet here we are. There are things we can do to make life better and there are some things we have no control over. I will tend to those things I can control and disregard those those that I cannot. I will remain calm in the face of controversy as I start over, over 50.

   One of the most important things I have discovered in trying to deal with change at a point in my life when change is not that welcome is that there are varying degrees of change. At my age, or at this age, change is a given. My body is changing now at an almost exponential rate, my children are growing faster than I would like, technology is changing rapidly, so change is occurring all around me all of the time. Most of these changes can pass me by with hardly a notice as they are the inevitable changes that we all face. Changes that I would not, or could not anticipate are the ones that are the most difficult.

   Unless we are affecting the change in our lives it generally comes as a huge surprise. I tend to cruise through life expecting people to remain in stasis and I am really surprised when they are the ones causing changes in my life. I have developed a habit of serious introspection now so that I can remain aware of the ebb and flow of the world around me. Some call it meditation, self examination, reflection, etc. For me it is a useful tool. Not that through this introspection I can stop the winds of change from blowing, but so that I am not caught so flatfooted when it happens.

   One constant in my life's changes are the actions of others. No matter how much we try to remain in control of our fate others have a hand in the direction our lives tend to go. Bosses can fire us, loved ones can leave, accidents happen and these are things that no one can predict. If there is one thing I have learned for certain it is that no matter how long I have known someone, no matter how close we are, they will do something that just makes you freeze in disbelief. I am learning to expect this lately and in learning that I have attained a sort of freedom that I never had before.

   I no longer get wrapped up in what others may think. Whether it is their opinion of me, politics, other people, or religion I am learning that I have no control over someone else's thoughts or feelings. Both of those things are the choice of the individual. They may choose to think like me for a time but that is transitory in nature and no matter what I or anyone else thinks we have no control over someone else's feelings. As hard as it is for me to realize there are people in this world that just do not like me and lest you be deceived there are those that feel the same towards you.

   I try to be liked, we all do. No matter what we may say we would prefer that others like us, find us affable,  of a good nature and decent, but the truth is no matter what we do we cannot make them see us as we see ourselves, or as we would hope they do. I choose not to be overly concerned about what others think. I try to live a good life and treat others decently, but being human I do not always hit the mark on that one. The only thing I can do is to let it go. That is the thing that makes me free. I can move on and not worry about what others think. All I can do is continue to try to be good and decent to everybody, recognize when I am not and make amends if possible and then move on. All we can do is keep trying and if others have a dim view of us then that is their burden and not ours. Liberate yourself from the opinions of others and seek the freedom of acceptance of who you are. I am celebrating my freedom today as I start over, over 50.

   I have reserved Wednesdays for lighter reading and writing fare. I try to review a movie I have seen, or maybe a book I have read. Today I am going to review a venue for lack of a better word. In the last two years or so I have been toying with the idea of hiking the Appalachian Trail. I have read about people older than me hiking this trail so it seemed doable. I have a friend that works in the Grand Canyon and he does a lot of hiking and is my age so I thought I might be ready to give it a try. I did some research and found some other trails in America that might be worth a try. I came upon a trail that is local right here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and it seems right up my alley.

   I was a boy scout as a young man so hiking and camping are no strangers to me. I have spent many nights in the woods and I have walked, hiked and climbed over some pretty tough terrain. There is a "trail" if you will, nearby called the Robert Trent Jones Golf trail and while it is not a "hiking" trail it consists of golf courses throughout Alabama that are listed on this trail that you follow and play. The trail I have discovered is in my own backyard while not quite as tough seems to me to be one that may require some effort to conquer.

   Since I am of an age where rock climbing, crossing rivers, and traversing long distances of difficult terrain can be problematic I chose the following trail for my summer trek. The Mississippi Gulf Seafood Trail is located right here on the Mississippi Gulf Coast and includes 62 miles of Mississippi coastline. The trail consists of 42 restaurants located on this stretch that feature fresh caught Mississippi Gulf seafood. While the term Mississippi Gulf is a misnomer it still conjures up the proper image for the trail's purpose and that is to highlight local restaurants that serve fresh caught Mississippi seafood.

   Hurricane Katrina decimated the coastline here and that included most of the best and oldest seafood joints in the country. The trail can be found at mississippiseafoodtrail.com where a complete listing of participating restaurants can be found. They range from fine dining to what one may describe as "hole-in-the-wall" joints. The menus are available as well as explanation of what is offered at each establishment. The site also describes some of the more popular dishes and their ingredients and some interesting factoids about each one.

   So if the wanderlust has stricken you as it has me play it safe for the summer and check out the Mississippi Seafood trail at the website listed above. The official run of the trail finished August 15th, but the site is up and running and it also has a facebook page you can visit. Strap on a pair topsiders and reserve the time for your "hike". Remember to leave an itinerary with some friends or family in case you get lost on the way. Look for me out there in the wilderness at your favorite spot. I am hiking this trail from beginning to end and may turn around and trace it back. Stretch, and practice a little and enjoy, I am as I start I over, over 50.
 

   "To be, or not to be, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them." This is a soliloquy from the play Hamlet by William Shakespeare. It is often quoted and yet rarely understood, or quoted correctly. I think I get it and understand the question. It makes sense and in life it seems to be a common theme.

   Do we live and let live, or do we need to get wound up about everything that happens to us? Do we stand up and fight all that is happening against us and by doing so do we end those problems? When is the right time to push back? Does pushing back bring us any relief? Certainly the answers to these questions depend on the situation, but I think on the macro level there is little we can do. I have certainly suffered greatly from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and have taken arms against a sea of troubles only to find myself tired, bruised and battered from a futile struggle. Sometimes those slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are just that, outrageous. We can no more stop them than we can delay the rising tide. 

   Sometimes I believe that discretion is the better part of valor. Rather than stand alone in the face of a storm of poor fortune it may be better to batten the hatches and wait it out. Sometimes there is nothing we can do about a raging sea of troubles other than to lash ourselves to a sturdy mast and hope for the best. Sooner or later the storm will subside and we can take stock of the damage and repair the ship. I think that may be where I am right now. For a while I took up arms against a sea of troubles only to find myself exhausted, sword in hand slashing and slicing at waves that cared nothing for me. Circumstances have no conscience, events have no soul nor do they notice the carnage they leave behind.

   In times such as these I am finding it is best to just hang on and wait a minute. Like the hurricanes that have battered my home in the past it will pass and I can rebuild. It seems that the more storms I have to face the easier it is to prepare for them and repair the damage after their passage. In the clear light of day it is easier to see that all is not lost and that life is more important than things. In the future when faced with storms I will not try to fight the inevitable, but I will lash myself to a sturdy tree or some other structure and ride it out. Storms never last forever and I can always rebuild, I always have. However, I keep a closer eye on the barometer of my life these days and as soon as I see indications of an impending storm I prepare, and with each approaching storm I find myself more prepared for the impending damage and the rebuilding process. Take stock of your storm supplies, I am, for in life it is always storm season. The only variable is where and when it will make landfall. Be prepared. I am as I start over, over 50.

   They say that change is the one true constant. Change seems to be the one thing we can guarantee will happen. No matter how hard we try to remain in stasis change surely comes to us all. Some change we can effect, and some change we can do nothing about. Most change is marked by the passage of time and if we look closely almost all change is somehow affected by the passage of time. One thing we know is that change will occur and the only power we have over it is how we react to it.

   When I was a school teacher managing classroom behavior was a daily challenge trying to get children to realize that someone else's actions are not a reason for them to behave in a certain way. This is a curse that follows us to adulthood. How many times have we heard someone respond when questioned as to why they did something that they had to to do what they did based on someone else's behavior? As humans we are ruled more often that not by emotion. It is these emotions, brought about by fear, that seem to cause us to behave irrationally and illogically in ways that harm us or others. We react without thinking, speak without hesitation, offer up ultimatums that cannot be met, conditions that are impossible to live under and reasons for behavior that are absurd.

   The only thing we can really change is ourselves. The younger we are the easier that change is to bring about. However, for some of us, me for instance, it takes many years to come to the conclusion that while others may have had a hand in our demise, or someone else is partially responsible for where we find ourselves, it is how we react, how we respond and what we choose to do that dictates how that change will affect us. We do not have to react out of fear with anger, we do not have to stand frozen in place with overwhelming depression, we do not have to be defined by what others do or say. It is said that we are in charge of our destiny, and while I may agree with that to a point, the present is the only thing we should deal with because that is what affects the future and it is the only thing we know for certain.

   Some people say change is a good thing and in some instances it is, while in other instances and to those affected by it that assertion certainly is arguable. I believe we cannot qualify change. We cannot possibly know for a long time, and in some cases we may never know, whether or not a particular change is either good or bad. We can only know that it is. Our reaction to it determines how it affects us. We cannot change others, we cannot change how they think, feel, and in most cases how they view something, we can only change ourselves.

   I used to tell students that while someone certainly may have wronged them, made a disparaging remark, or even caused them physical harm their reaction to it is not a requirement. As humans and undeveloped humans at that, this concept was hard for them to grasp. But in truth how we react is our responsibility. In any given situation our reaction dictates the movement forward of events and how we are affected. I have embarked on a mission to change and not to be a slave to the actions of others. I choose how I react and how something will change me.  Certainly others have the power to force some change in our lives but we can determine its direction. Take control of your life and how much others can change it. Do not be a slave to your fear and react in a way that fits a script laid out by someone else's agenda. Be yourself and be in charge of yourself as I am attempting to do as I start over, over 50.

   

   It is late August in south Mississippi and that means the days are still long, but getting shorter, school has started and yes...it's football season again. Fall has always been one of my favorite seasons although as far south as I live we really do not have the typical seasons experienced by others. It begins to cool a little, days get shorter, hurricane season starts to settle and football starts. Fall is a time of transition from hot to not so hot. Football occupies that time slot. 

   For me football season has always meant something to do on Saturdays and Sundays other than yard work. Beginning with college football on Saturday and winding up on Monday night, it has always been one of my favorite times of the year. Saturdays gathered at a friends house or at my favorite watering hole have always given me a calm sense of place. Being from the south we have always taken our football too seriously although some of my friends would argue that it is impossible to be too serious about football because it is that important.

   Sundays are always a great at this time of  year with pro football filling up my entire day to the point of distraction. Believe it or not I have some friends for whom football season is trite and tiresome. I have difficulty understanding their position, but I respect it and they being the type of friends they are indulge my fervent desire to be in front of a television no matter where we find ourselves on those days. My children are the most intolerant. My daughter rolls her eyes and refuses to give an inch for football and the boy has yet to develop a true understanding of the nuance of the game. He is a great NASCAR fan, but I believe he has yet to develop an understanding of football and its place in the psyche of the south.

   I will spend this weekend watching college football and awaiting next week's start of the pro season. I will find a place that has my favorite game day foods and beverages and the most strategically placed televisions. For a few hours I can live vicariously cheering for colleges that my friends attended and my alma matter as well. I will enjoy the company of other like minded individuals striking up conversations with complete strangers and comparing our knowledge of the game. I love this time of year and all that it brings. 

   I am hoping you find the same joy in the changing of the seasons that I do, maybe not in football, but in whatever manner works for you. Time moves forward and we all mark the passing seasons in different ways. I mark the passing of summer with football and I welcome the fall with an open heart full of hope. Hope for my teams and hope for me and all of you. My hope is that somehow we can all feel like winners for a while, even if it is a short while. I will welcome the chance to escape for a few hours on weekends and gather with friends with open arms and a glad heart, as start over, over 50.

   As a student I used to dread writing assignments I hated the thought of having to do the research. I procrastinated until the days before the assignment was due and it was all that occupied my thoughts. I would cram a months worth of work into three or four days and turn in note cards, rough draft and final copy on the last day possible. I have no idea why I did this and as I got older I shied from any career that would involve these mental deadlines of methodical work that entailed certain steps in the process that had to be completed in order for the project to be done properly. However,  I ended up in careers that required just that. In college I started out as a business major and then switched to history with the thought of law school in the back of my head.

   A history degree requires a vast amount of research and writing rather cumbersome research papers that draw conclusions based on source material written by others. One has to have the discipline to ferret out these sources, organize them, read them, analyze them, draw conclusions that can be validated by these source materials and write these conclusions down in a coherent manner so that others can draw the same conclusions as you. Unlike the writing assignments of my youth I was drawn to these assignments with a sense of purpose. It was as if I had to do them in order to quench some inner thirst for knowledge that had to be exposed to the light of day so others could be enlightened and solve the same mysteries that were plaguing me. I soon found though that most others, those outside of my chosen field, had only a passing interest in my newly found avocation. Now, for me, writing is a requirement that I am obligated to fulfill so that I may continue on with the prosaic of my daily life.

   I have some friends that I can see are drawn to something in a similar fashion in which I am drawn to writing. One is a floral designer. She has what to me is an astounding ability to take plants and flowers and arrange different textures and colors in such a way that when you see them makes perfect sense. A way that seems as if nature had exactly that in mind when designing these plants. These arrangements actually seem to make sense of and have relevance to the situations and events they are designed to compliment. From funerals and weddings to births and any of other of life's events we choose to celebrate, when she is done there is no doubt that these groupings were just waiting to be put together and only she could do it. Their form clearly represents the events they are designed for.

   I have another friend that takes pictures. He works as something other than a photographer and is good at his job, but it is clear from his pictures that photographer is what he is. His pictures capture moments in time that need no captions or explanation. They are framed in such a way that one can feel what he felt as he took the picture. He can look at a vast landscape and find the one small story of interest and frame it in such a way that everything else, no matter its size, is dwarfed by what he has captured in his frame of reference. He has the ability to do this on a grand scale or on the micro level. His sense of color and space and even time are captured forever in a way that tends to burn the scene in one's mind. He translates perfectly the language of nature and puts it in context.

   These are the things that writing does for me. I was never employed as a writer. I have always done something else to put food on the table, but like the two described above I am drawn to it in such a way that I have to do it to make sense of events that have, or are taking place. With words I am compelled to arrange an event, idea or scene into a form that makes it visible to others in the same way that I saw or felt it. I no longer run from these "assignments". It is something I have to do just as I have to eat or breathe. To avoid discomfort I am driven to sit down now and reveal my thoughts and feelings and make them available to others to make sense of in the same way that my one friend arranges plants to assuage grief, or instill a sense of beauty to someone participating in or observing an event. I show others what I see as my photographer friend does on both a grand and micro level framed in a way that when observed the same thing nature reveals to me is revealed to them. Find your muse. Search out that which drives you, compels you to act and create. It can be anything. Creation can be manifested in many forms and all of them are art. In doing these things we help define our world, shape our perspective and the perspective of others. We can show the world what we see around us and how it affects us. I have to. I must, and I have no choice as I start over, over 50.

 
 

   I promised myself a few weeks ago that I would be disciplined about writing this blog. I promised myself I would stick to it no matter what and that I would be relevant, I also promised that in being disciplined I would stick to certain topics on certain days thereby forcing myself to explore some of the more mundane subjects and make them interesting. Wednesdays, I told myself, would be reserved for book, movie, song, or venue reviews. Giving myself and whoever reads this some insight into some of things I find interesting. Today will be somewhat different. I will do a review, but along with the promise of sticking to certain topics I also promised myself I would be honest. So forgive me if you find this tiresome, trite, or another trip down the road of self immolation by other means than fire, if that makes sense.

   There is a band I came across back in the late 1980s called Concrete Blonde. They have been around since about 1985, but I think they really caught my attention in 1990 with the release of their critically acclaimed album titled Bloodletting. They had a hit off of that album entitled Joey. I first heard the song on the way home one morning after a night of my usual heavy partying. Details of said behavior are irrelevant, or maybe just not necessary. I was in a dark place. I drank, and drank heavily, and drank all night. Alcohol was not my only escape route, but again all of the facts may be unnecessary. For me it was the beginning of a slow climb up from the abyss. One that I am grateful for today and believe it or nor our wake-up calls come in many forms. For me this time, it was the song Joey.

   I am a hopeless romantic. I am a voracious reader, lover of music, and cinema and any form of self expression and often times find myself in a song, I see myself in a movie character, or I see myself in the tortured soul of some artists. I understand the angst, the pain and the need to self express. As a child for some reason I felt misunderstood, or maybe I was unable to make myself understood. Maybe people did not misunderstand, maybe I misrepresented myself. As an adult I turned to self medication to stifle the need to be heard, to be understood, to be seen and found relevant. It did not work. It only seemed to dampen any creative process I may have had. It alienated those around me and to this day many people I knew then look at me in that same light, unable to see me as I see me. I digress.

   Concrete Blonde is an alternative rock band, dedicated to their art and dedicated to serving their close following and not selling out to a wider audience. The lead singer has a powerful voice and persona that lends itself to their genre and to their songs. Joey is about an alcoholic and in an interview, Johnette Napolitano, the lead singer and writer of Joey, gives a hint as to who the song is about, but that is doubted by some, and quite frankly to fans like me does not matter. I saw myself clearly in the lyrics. I saw a hopeless drunk loved by someone who was possibly an enabler. I had people like that in my life.

   The haunting lyrics describe the relationship between a drunk and the closest person to them. It allowed me to see myself where I was and what I had become and to let me see what others saw. I made it out of the gutter, I rose up form the pit and call me silly, call me maudlin, accuse me of deflecting, whatever. All I know is from that moment of clarity brought about by a song not intended for me, or about me, I was redeemed. I encourage you to listen to Concrete Blonde. Listen to Joey and maybe you will see yourself in the lyrics as the singer, or the one the song is about. Either way I am sure you will find some value in their music, not just this song. I did, and I still do as I start over, over 50.

   As a child I grew up in southern Mississippi. I am a son of the South, born in Texas and raised in the most typically southern state in the union. I am unashamed of my heritage and embrace all that is southern. The good, the bad, the hard to bear and the even harder to bare history and stigma that goes with it. Where I live life was never easy for the early settlers and difficulties continue to plague those that are determined to stay. I am determined to stay. I have visited and lived in other states and other countries, but my heart and my soul have been inexorably drawn back to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi and like the continual ebb and flow of the Gulf's tide I have left and returned to the shores of my home.

   There are obligations that come with being from the South. Loyalty, honesty, and sincerity are just a few of those. Loyalty to home in spite of the tarnished history of the South. Honesty about our past and its relevance to the present and its threat to the future. Sincerity about our feelings for home and family and friends. This region has been ruled by no less than eight sovereign entities. It has been populated by virtually every race of people there is. It has been embroiled in controversy, wracked by war, and decimated by natural disaster. For some reason it continues to draw people looking for a new beginning, or a place to live out their final days.

   The people here are personable almost to a fault. A typical greeting from someone you barely know will include the phrase, "how's your mom and them?", or some derivation. They are sincere in their inquiry and will gladly respond to the same inquiry if it is offered. I have learned to view life through the eyes of Tennessee Williams, Faulkner, Weldy, Jimmy Buffet and the king himself Elvis Presley. The blues of the Delta tell our story. Our resilience is the legacy left to us by those that came before and it is the same legacy that we leave to those who will follow. Together we weather every storm and together we have rebuilt. With stubborn resolve that almost borders on foolishness we stay and persevere.

   Those are the traits that sustain me in difficult times. However, these same trials and tribulations that seem to be common to those from the south are the same reason that we unabashedly celebrate even the most mundane events. Festivals, carnival and religious observances anchor each community and mark the passing of the seasons. Pomp and circumstance accompany every major and minor event and reverence is expected and given whether it is your heritage involved or someone else's.Look around where you live. Explore your origins and boast about your home. These are the things that bring meaning to me. These are the things that give me a sense of place and provide comfort in the darkest of times. These are some of the things I hold close to me as I start over, over 50.

   As I stated previously I write because I am compelled to write. It took me a while to understand it, but I get it now, so I write. This blog is full of memories, mostly from life's lessons that I have learned through the years. It helps me to keep perspective and balance and it seems to relieve some burning desire I have to let it all out. Today I am writing about something that has been in my head for some time screaming to be let out. It is memory of someone I knew many years ago that did not pass through sleep's dark and silent gate and emerge to face another day. He will never see another day and his passing makes me realize how grateful I must remain for everyday I have.

   His name was and I guess still is Russ Jordan. I met Russ in 1984 not long after I was out of the Air Force. I had been convinced by a good friend to go into the insurance business and signed on with a national company that Russ and my friend worked for. We had an office downtown in a larger city. The office was staffed with about four other agents. Russ was not from here but he had attended college at Ole Miss and settled here on the coast with his wife who was from Biloxi. It was great atmosphere as all of us were outgoing and gregarious, loved sports and all of us a great sense of humor.

   Russ was smart. He was smarter than I would have imagined after first meeting him and was a natural for the line of work he had chosen. He knew the business well and had an ability to meet people and make them feel as if they were immediately his friend. He was sincere in this ability and many was the time that we would run into one of his clients and they were treated as and treated him as close friends and more than client and insurance agent. Russ had a way of making everyone comfortable. Non-confrontational, friendly, quick with a laugh and even quicker to laugh at your jokes. Again there was nothing insincere about his behavior, he was genuine. Many was the time when as young adult men we would all be gathered at local restaurant, and bar and Russ seemed to spark all of the fun and leave segues for any one of us to make a wisecrack or a joke.

   Russ had a great wife that seemed to compliment his personality and eventually had two beautiful little girls. He seemed to me to be invincible. Not in a superhero kind of way, but a way that made you think he had life under control and would continue to be happy and here on this plane of existence. He was fearless, not in a Seal Team Six kind of way, but rather in a way that told you he never worried about tomorrow, or failure, or actually selling anything. He seemed to know that no matter what he would be fine, he would be successful and that everybody liked him, and they did. I have never, to this day, heard a negative remark about him. As fearless as he was he would not live forever.

   I don't quite remember the year he died. I saw the obituary in the paper. I had drifted out of the insurance business and away from the crowd we ran with. I was shocked, stunned and saddened. It seems that the universe has a way of taking those that seem so invincible. Those that seem like they have it all figured out. His death was sudden and unexpected and not long after he passed his two girls were killed in a horrible accident. I ran into his widow one day while out walking. She seemed happy and well and I often wonder how I would be able to handle the loss she experienced. But I know now. You see she and Russ were the same. She knows what may happen, will happen and could happen at any time, but chooses to live and be happy. Those were the two simple choices that Russ made. That is what he had figured out. All we needed to do was to breathe in, breathe out and be happy and grateful for that and nothing else would matter. Today and everyday I am going to try and live up to that simple standard. To breathe in and breathe out and be happy as I start over, over 50.

   I do not normally write in my blog on Saturdays for many reasons, well maybe not many, and maybe not any good reason, but today I am compelled to write. That is why I write anyway, because I am compelled to do it. There is no other reason and the only analogy I can come up with is that feeling of having to vomit, but you just resist knowing all the while you will feel better as soon as you do. That is my process. Thoughts come to me and stay in my brain until I put them down on paper, computer screen, or even give voice to them.

   I am compelled to write today because I feel I must. I have my children this weekend, and like every other time I have them it is a panacea of sorts that allows me the ability to get through a weekend that would otherwise be rather mundane. They are innocents and unabashed in their love for me and life in general. They see promise in every day and every thing we do. Each visit to them is new adventure of things to do, laughs, fights, friends, exploration and quiet time spent with each other doing nothing but enjoying our time together.

   Today will be spent at the pool. Late August is typically the hottest time of the year and this weekend is no exception. We will stay all day, eat, play in the water and generally do nothing. Simple times that I am sure they will remember fondly as will I and like me, at my age, they will look back on these times as some of the best they knew. I know I do as I remember the time when I was their age. Simpler times because our minds were unpolluted by the worries of everyday life. We did not require much to be happy, to be engaged and the safety and security of our parents love was all that we needed to allow our minds to run free with imagination and discovery.

   I will enjoy the day as they do. I will find happiness in the Sun and the heat and the cool relief of the water. I will let watermelon juice drip down my chin, I will eat without regard to the effects it has on my long term health, I will get a sunburn no matter how much sunscreen I apply and tonight when my head hits the pillow it will be with the sense of having done nothing but love my children and life. Nothing matters today but them and me. The time we spend today cannot be recovered once it has passed so we will not waste it. As adults not wasting time is something we claim to always be doing, but the reality is we are always wasting time worrying, working and fretting about things that we will not remember a week from now. 

   Today my job is to do nothing but be happy and love. Try it today, put down the list of chores. Erase the thoughts of the past week and the worry about the next. Pick up a book. Take the kids out for some fun. Lay in the sand and listen to the waves and wind and let your mind loose to run and jump through dreams and fantasies with no regard to their outcome or possibility. Do nothing but love yourself and life and that will be enough. Join me today in this worthy endeavor as I start over, over 50.

   Karma. Songs are written about it, religions teach it and many, many people believe in it. I do not. Karma is defined (and this is paraphrased) as an action that springs from intentions, or a result that arises from an action. Many people use karma to hope for, or believe in a result that will happen to them, or someone else as a result of something they have done, or believe. For most people karma is used as a sort of hope for a vengeful act that will happen to someone based on a perceived heinous act that has been committed. Belief in karma requires that one hopes for and expects someone to suffer for what they have done and in that suffering the one who has been wronged will somehow receive justice.

   I have been told by people that karma will eventually catch up with me. That karma will one day exact from me that pound of flesh they think they deserve because I may have done them wrong. Nothing could be farther from the truth. My actions are mine and the karmic results that people believe will happen are subject to interpretation by me and not the person observing the action. While you may think justice has been served I may have never noticed the correction of universal justice that has taken place. It may never appear on my radar and your happiness at my reversal of fortune being due to what you think I was responsible for in the past, in your karmic belief has now opened you up to the same retribution.

   I reserve that form of karmic thinking for the poisoned mind and I dismiss it outright. How I feel, and how I think is a construct I create. My perception of the events occurring in my life is shaped by my thinking and my belief system. I choose not to hope for karma to catch up to those who may have wronged me. I choose to forgive where I can and forget where forgiveness is beyond the little piece of spirituality I possess. That is all I can do. Wishing for the same sort of thing to happen to the person that has wronged me just shapes my perception to see those event in my life in that same light. If I always hope for retribution, for same sort of bad to happen, then that is all I will see. You see, to me my feelings shape how I see what is around me. If I stay in the negative, in the hate filled space of vengeance, then everything that happens to me will be viewed through that prism of thought.

  Instead of hoping for that pound of flesh, if we cannot forgive, then for the time being until we can get to that place, we must forget. Carrying the burden of hope for karma to catch up to someone even for an instant opens us up for the same thing. All we can do is to forgive those that harm, or wrong us no matter how difficult. We must hope for their happiness and applaud their successes. In so doing it keeps us free from the burden of revenge. As humans hoping for things to be balanced is almost an obsession. Forgive, and if you cannot, forget and let it go. Stay positive and move forward. Do not look back with anger, but rather with happiness. I am forgiving where I can and forgetting and letting go where I cannot. Join me as I start over, over 50.

   While I preach about not living in the past, I also firmly believe we should not forget it. If we did not remember the past we would continue to commit the same mistakes over and over. However, the past also holds little gems of happiness for us. Lessons we learned that were not painful, but joyous and magical in a way that their recall puts us in a better place when we are feeling down. By recalling these occasions we can renew our faith in this world and in this life. We know that if it happened once it can certainly happen again and maybe next time being prepared for it we can better take advantage of the circumstance. Today I am going to recall one of my fondest memories from almost 40 years ago. One that almost seems like it never happened. One that has been stuck in my mind lately so much so that if do not write it down it may disappear forever and be lost to me.

   I grew up in and still live in a town about 65 miles east of New Orleans. If you have never been there I highly recommend a trip to see it and to walk around its historic districts. Take a stroll down by the river and through Jackson Square. Learn some of its history and get know what the city is about. As a young man when I became old enough to drive my friends and I would make trips to New Orleans on a regular basis to party and feel like an adult. To risk safety and sanity along the streets of the French Quarter. To behave in a manner that decorum prevented us from doing back home. New Orleans seemed to us to be a place without boundaries, magical and mystical where almost anything dreamed of could be real.

   I have always been a hopeless romantic. I have always dreamed of that one true love I read about in books and dreamed would one day be mine. I wanted my heart to be filled with the burning desire and dedication to someone that felt the same about me as I did them. This idea left me open to many disappointments and failed relationships but I never gave up.

   It is with this dream, this burning need to feel that way, that I found myself in New Orleans late in October of 1977. With some friends in tow I made yet another pilgrimage to the Big Easy for the weekend. After checking into a hotel we made our way down to what we considered the jumping off point for a night of debauchery and foolish behavior in the famed French Quarter. We always started in Jackson Square at The Cafe Dumonde. Not because we craved beignets and cafe au lait, but because it was the perfect meeting place and our trek from there would lead us up through the Quarter back to our hotel...hopefully.

   I Love the water and I love to sit and stare at it as it changes and moves along. I found myself leaning against a railing along the Mississippi River staring out across as boats made their way back and forth along the muddy highway. That evening I was not alone and looked across to my right and saw a young lady standing and looking out at the same scene as I. She looked at me and I stared back unabashed and hoping to get her attention. Without warning she looked over at me cocked her head to the side and walked over to where I was standing. I stammered my way through the introduction, struck dumb by her beauty and straightforward approach. Before I knew it we were walking up St. Peter street. We stopped inside some small oyster bar and sat down to cold beer and oysters. We talked as we ate and I know this because I remember her smile and her lilting laugh at something I said. Today I cannot recall the sound of her voice or what we talked about, but I know we did.

   From there, as the Sun set, we made our way down St. Peter to the Preservation Hall for some jazz music. I think we may have danced to something, I am not sure. So much time has passed and I may be filling in gaps with things I only dreamed of and not what really happened. From there we left and made the obligatory stop at Pat O'Briens for hurricanes and piano music. We sat out on the patio with the flaming fountain and talked and laughed and I think I may have spent most of time staring into those deep blue almost violet eyes. We left Pat O'Briens after a while and wound our way through some side streets of the French Quarter finally arriving at some hole-in-the-wall dive bar with a live band.

   Most of what happened after that is a blur. I know we danced and drank until the wee hours of the morning, but when we left it was still dark. I had no idea where we were and asked if she wanted to grab a cab and head back to my hotel. She smiled and I was sure the answer would be no, and it was. She suggested that we retire to her house which just happened to be around the corner. Off we went. It was the typical looking house from the street and we went through an iron gate that opened up into a courtyard with and upper story. We went up a wrought iron staircase and into a room that must have faced the river because I could smell the water and hear the steady thrum of big diesel engines pushing freight up and down the waterway. That night we came together as one and explored each other in ways that that still take away my breath. I had no idea how long it lasted. I remember looking at her once as she sat on the side of the bed, her raven hair cascading down her back, her lean legs crossed as she ran her hands through her hair and stared out the window. After that I remember nothing until I woke up to sun streaming through the windows and the sounds of the street below.

   I woke up slowly, stretching, and rolled over to find an empty space beside me. I got up, dressed and went down the stairs to the courtyard and into a kitchen. I smelled coffee and went over to the table where I found a note that said, "had to run some errands, wait for me" and it was signed simply, "me". I looked around and noticed I smelled of sweat, smoke and stale beer. I decide to go out on the sidewalk and see where I was and what was happening. As the gate closed behind me I heard a click and turned around to re-open it and discovered it was locked. Damn! I thought a minute and decided to get back to the hotel and shower and change and come right back. I wandered down the street to a corner and hailed a cab and made it back to the hotel where I showered and changed and headed out to go back to that house in the quarter.

   There was a flaw in my plan and due to the scattered thinking of youth I did not remember where I had spent the night. I tried in vain to explain where I had been to the driver and eventually had him drop me off back down at the river in Jackson Square, hoping to retrace my steps from the night before. I spent the entire day wandering the streets of the Quarter and the surrounding neighborhoods to no avail. In the clean light of day nothing looked familiar. I went to the hotel, paid the bill and checked out. I decided to go back to the Quarter for the night and see if anything caught my eye.

   While I knew what she looked, felt like, and the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle, orange blossom and lavender that seemed to come out of her pores naturally, but I had no memory of her name or the address or street name where she lived. I wandered around that night aimlessly searching for any clue, but I had no luck. She was gone and what had happened was just a hazy memory to be cherished and held. I made my way back to my car and returned home. I slept for two days and it took another 4 or 5 days before I was back to a sense of normalcy. Like a junkie going through withdrawal I suffered physically and emotionally.

  And like that junkie I have spent the rest of my life chasing that first high I felt of true love, wanting to relieve the ache of needing to be with someone and knowing that that person was somehow the "one" even though you barely knew them, but at the same time you felt that you knew everything about them. She was me, and I her. We connected, and to me it seemed we had been put on this Earth to be with each other and only each other. And like that junkie chasing that high I have never found it again. I ruined many relationships trying relive that feeling and today I stand on the rotten heap of decay and emotional carnage. However, I keep that memory and I keep her in me. I have faith that while I may never meet her again I will  find that feeling with someone once more. It may be someone I have yet to meet and it may be someone I already know. Someone close to me that I have not yet seen in that same light, not been with during that perfect meeting of time and place. I will not give up, but I am more careful as I still search today and everyday with faith and confidence starting over, over 50.

 

   Since I have begun this period of introspection I have looked at and read many things pertaining to self help, self realization and personal growth. Most I discarded, or dismissed because they did not seem to have any relevance to me. I hope I did not make any mistakes. Of those I read, or paid attention to some, only a couple of them stood out. There were only a few that I took the time to read or understand. One of them of course was the Bible. It has too many passages and instructions that provide solace and help for me to have ignored and the other is something called The Secret.

   I had heard of The Secret on many occasions. I had read passages from it and I believe I recall a show that Oprah did dedicated to this topic. As many times as it had crossed my path I never really took the time to pay close attention to it. Like most times of trial and tribulation in my life I relied on myself to make it through the troubles I was facing. This particular time though I was in a place where I decided it was worth it to at least find out what it was about.

   There are many books, and TV programs dedicated to The Secret. I found the documentary and took the time watch it and really take it in. I am glad I did. Has it somehow transformed my life and made everything that much better? In a way it has. I look at things in a different way. I apply the things I learned from watching The Secret everyday in my life and I must admit I am happier, calmer and far more optimistic about the future. I no longer worry, fret, or wallow in the muck and mire of what has happened nor do I stand frozen, feet stuck in the brambles about fear of the future.

   The Secret takes the basic principles of self awareness and our place in this universe and with some help from almost every religion tells you how to use this knowledge to improve your outlook on life. It does not guarantee riches and success, or fame and fortune, it does however, let you in on a way of thinking that allows you to achieve what you want, accept what you have and not to think about what could have been, or should have been and it helps you get rid of the idea of "what if".

  The Secret uses basic ideas about the Law Of Attraction to guide to us to place in our minds where we can be comfortable with ourselves, and what we really desire. It provides insight into a way of thinking that frees one's mind from the shackles of fear and doubt. The Secret does not champion any religious ideals, or any one religion as the only way. It does however, contain tenets from all religions, including my own Christianity, in such a way that it becomes self evident to one that we are really meant to be happy, we are meant to have the things we want from life and it is okay to be successful, to be famous, or to be rich if that is what we desire. If you are wondering what The Secret is, find the DVD and watch it. Give it some thought and try to apply the principles that it espouses to your everyday life. I am doing that and I am realizing the simplicity and the nature of its tenets as I start over, over 50.

   To be a human being means we are thoughtful by nature. Since we left the trees and became meat eaters our brains have grown and our preoccupation with finding food has taken a back seat to loftier pursuits. Today as a species we do not have to spend all day focusing on shelter, food and basic survival. This is a blessing as well as a curse. We are certainly safer now, healthier now, and technology has made our lives much simpler, but at the same time that we have been released from the shackles of survival we have become chained to our thoughts.

   The two most basic emotions that drive us are fear and love. They both cause us to act in irrational ways and to do things that in hindsight make us question our own sanity. Fear keeps us from accomplishing so much because in fear we can talk ourselves out of attempting things that would improve our lives. With fear we tend to imagine so many different scenarios that could occur we are frozen in place and never move forward. How many times have we committed some error at work, or home, only to have our minds race with the possibilities and consequences that are so far fetched our entire day is consumed with the thoughts of the incident. KISS is an acronym that stands for "keep it simple, stupid." The point here is to keep things simple, do not over think something. When starting a project I have watched many people start listing the problems that may arise during the completion of the project rather than the steps needed to successfully complete that project.

   Too many times when faced with a problem or difficult situation our minds race off to imagine all sorts of negative consequences that may arise as we try to extricate ourselves from it, or solve it. We have the capability to project all of our fears and bad thoughts on to any situation to make it far worse than it really is. It is funny how more often than not we are able to see all of the bad things that can happen and we have great difficulty focusing on all of the good. We can take the simplest of things and turn into one of the most difficult things we may ever face. The truth is if we look back at some of what we thought were potentially the worse things that could ever happen to us, when we look back at the things we thought we could never overcome, or things we were sure would affect us and all of those around us in a bad way for years to come we find that the opposite is true.

    While in college preparing to write my first large research paper my professor asked how many of us had heard of Occam's Razor. Maybe one hand went up. Occam's Razor is a principle that puts forth the idea that when faced with competing hypothesis the one with the fewest assumptions is most likely to be correct. In other words, when all else is put aside the simplest explanation is the correct one. When facing a potential problem in life, or having to face something difficult caused by our own mistakes in judgement let us not rush toward some long and drawn out complicated set of events that could occur, but rather focus on the reality of the situation and keep it simple. Our lives are complicated enough without our help. Look at similar events and remember how they turned out. The fact that we are able to take the time to think about a problem is testimony to our ability to stand tall in the face of any adversity. We have faced so many difficulties in our lives that one more minor bump is inconsequential. Think of all of the good things that can come out of something rather than the bad that may come, and most probably, will never happen. I am looking for the good and I am keeping it simple as I start over, over 50.

   As the title of this blog suggests when I started it I am in the process of starting over. That process I have discovered is an ongoing work that really begins anew every day. It can begin at any time increment you choose, but I would imagine breaking the time down on a daily basis is the easiest to deal with. Humans break there lives down into time segments to better organize things, or to signify the ending and beginning of things. One of things I have discovered and shared is not hanging on to the past. It is a common theme in my writing and one that I will revisit fairly often.

   While we are always cautioned to let go of the past the one thing we must be mindful of is not forgetting it. We must remember the past, our mistakes, our failures, our victories and our triumphs over adversity. The past must be remembered because as humans we always make mistakes. Mistakes are how we learn new things and reinforce lessons already learned. We cannot be afraid of failure and cannot be afraid of making mistakes. However, we must be mindful of our past mistakes so that they are not repeated. So the past holds a place of purpose in our journey and we must examine it and learn from it, but not be mired in it.

   So what can we do about the past and the mistakes we made or the wrongs we perceive that others have done to us? As far as the wrongs done to us by others there is not much we can do. Being angry is a waste of time and sitting around lamenting what has been done by others and waiting for them to fix it is giving power to someone that neither earned nor deserves it. The only thing we have control over is ourselves and the only thing we can change is us. Many self-help groups and books talk endlessly about the necessity of making amends as an essential piece of the self improvement puzzle. The only problem with this is that by the time we realize we need to make amends it may be too late or even more revealing is that the person we need to make amends to either is no longer interested in it or may not even realize you think you may have done them wrong.

   I sometimes think that making a list of those we need to make amends to is the epitome of hubris. We assume that we had such an effect on someone that they require our acknowledgment of it and need that pound of flesh from us. Truth be told most people are rarely thinking of us. Most people are like us in that they are wrapped up securely in their own lives and problems that ours are just not evident to them. How many times has someone taken their own life only to have those around them exclaim, "I had no idea that they were hurting that much!" We must be mindful of our place in the lives of others.

   That being said we must always be mindful of ourselves and our own behavior. When we wrong someone we need to own it, admit it and be contrite about it, make whatever amends we can and move on. If we strive to always be kind, to realize that we can, with our words and actions, hurt another and then try to make amends we will have less to think about. I am going to endeavor to be kind in words, thought and action. I can no longer afford to be anything else. I have enough baggage I am carrying from my past. I do not need to add to my load. So today and everyday join me in making a solid effort to be kind. Be someone slow to anger and quick to forgive. Make an attempt to keep your mouth closed and your heart open and when faced with the choice of being right or being kind, choose kind, I am going to try to do all of this as I start over, over 50.

   Since we already know that change is the one true constant, I thought I would address a part of change that affects us all. When I was a child rotary phones were the standard and people still sent and received telegrams. I have watched communication technology change and grow from that old rotary phone to push button phones, cordless phones, cable TV and the rise of the computer. I have a daughter that was born into a household with a Commodore 64 computer and dot matrix printer. Since those days I take for granted the technology I use today, but there is a piece that although I resisted at first I have come to accept and use regularly.

   Social media has grown exponentially in the last two decades. The youth of the world were the first to embrace it as a way to give themselves a voice and to be heard at an age when it seems no one is listening. That explosion in social media sites like Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and Instagram, have enabled people of all ages to engage and connect with a larger world than I could as a teenager. Today a chance picture or video can launch someone into a semblance of celebrity status unknown just 20 years ago.

   As an adult over 50 years old the one thing that I have noticed is how generational the acceptance of social media has become. My parents are still alive and have seen a far more substantial change in technology than I have, yet like others of their generation they seem reluctant to embrace the idea of social media. Their complaint seems to be the idea that they would be opening their lives to scrutiny that makes them uncomfortable. They do not seem to grasp that people can only have the access they allow and then only to the information that they permit to be viewed or shared. The younger generation does not seem to have accumulated the baggage that the older generations have, so they have a limited concept of privacy.

   Facebook seems to still be the platform of choice, at least for the people that I am in contact with on a daily basis. I use it, although in the early days of its explosion on the social media scene I took on the same mantra that my elders espoused. However, I have come to appreciate the use of social media for many purposes. For me the most valuable part of social media is the ability to reconnect and stay connected to people that I had lost contact with and to people that I otherwise would never have an opportunity to interact with.

   Having worked in military intelligence I understand the value of maintaining a low profile and closely guarding your privacy. Just like in face-to-face encounters on-line communication should be carefully controlled and one should not share everything about themselves at any time on social media sites.Common sense should dictate what we use social media for and anyone you communicate with that you just met on the web should be treated the same way as someone you just met on the street. There is no need to immediately let someone into your inner circle and until you know more about them and have vetted them they should be held at arms length. All that being said I would encourage you to join a social media site. You would be surprised at the people you can reconnect with and make new connections with. It is a valuable tool when used properly and can open up a whole new world for you. I will be cruising around social media, trading stories, pictures and updates with a very cordial group of old and new friends. join us, you will be pleasantly surprised as I am, everyday as I start over, over 50.

   A few weeks ago I was in a bookstore looking for something new to read. I have been a voracious reader since elementary school. As I scanned the aisles looking for something to buy I became increasingly frustrated at my inability to make a decision. Some of the books were by authors I had never heard of, some were genres I did not feel like reading and many others I had already read. No matter how hard I tried I could not find anything that suited me.

  I thought about my problem a lot and it made me remember a time when I stumbled upon an author that has become one of my all time favorites. I was in a bookstore facing the same dilemma. No matter how hard I tried nothing compelled me to buy. Usually there are three things that prompt me to pick up a book to read, they are so simplistic that I am somewhat embarrassed. The first is the cover, just like the packaging in the grocery store the cover will prompt me to pick up a book and examine its worthiness. The second thing is the title, and the third is the author. With this in mind the following is what I stumbled upon many years ago.

  While perusing the shelves at a bookstore a title jumped out at me. It was In the Electric Mist With Confederate Dead, by James Lee Burke. That one random decision has provided me with many hours of good reading. James Lee Burke is an excellent author. His books appeal to me on many levels, genre, style of writing and sometimes a historical context that that is compelling and relevant to events in my life. Mr. Burke was born in Texas and spent his early life on the Gulf Coast of Louisiana and Texas. His settings are similar to where I grew up as are some of the characters in his books. The influence of Louisiana and the Gulf are evident in his stories and seem to shape his characters and stories in a way I find easy to empathize with.

   Burke's main characters are usually damaged heroes in need of redemption. One of his recurrent characters is a sheriff's deputy named Dave Robicheaux. Wracked by demons from his past and the Vietnam War, the deputy fights evil at the same time he is trying to come to grips with things he has done in his past that are similar to the evil men he faces. Most of the stories take place in Louisiana and some take place in Texas and Montana. Mr. Burke maintains homes both in New Iberia Louisiana and Missoula Montana. He has twice been awarded the Edgar Award for Best Crime Novel of the year. Three of his books have been made into movies, but to me they do not measure up to the books.

   The next time you are looking for a good read I encourage you to try one of Mr. Burke's novels. Well written and to me as good as any book I have read, I am sure you will find them entertaining, compelling and worthy of the critical acclaim he has received. His most recent novel Wayfaring Stranger, is one of his best. The next time you are looking for a book to read, pick an obscure title. Choose a book that on the outside offers no clue to what is between the cover. I did it and I have been rewarded handsomely with many hours of great reading. If you read his books leave me a comment on what you think. If you have already read them leave me a comment and tell me your experience. I am still looking for something new to read and I am waiting on the next great novel as I start over, over 50.

   Recent news stories have prompted me take a look at humor. Websters has a few definitions for humor, some if which are a little disturbing, but in a general sense it is defined as the ability to be funny or to be amused  by things that are funny. when listing some of the more desirable qualities in a mate people often list a sense of humor as being very important. We are always encouraged to have a sense humor. A sense of humor means to have the ability to recognize humor when we see it. Being able to make someone laugh is a gift and many women choose a man that makes her laugh before they choose one based on looks.

   Being able to laugh at the things around us that are funny has the ability to turn a bad day good. Seeing the irony in a situation sometimes makes it easier to understand and deal with. Some of the more notable phrases that deal with the effects of humor on our well being include the often used "laughter is the best medicine." Studies show that laughter actually improves our over all well being. It triggers the release of certain hormones that promote healing, and allows us an escape from some of the more negative aspects of a situation or event.

   We must however be able to distinguish between the ability to make someone laugh from the perceived notion that in being able to do so then that person is happy. Too often the ability to make others laugh is a self defense mechanism used to hide some deeper personal pain. Just because I can point out irony, and the humor around myself and others in life does not necessarily make me happy. Masking pain and distress with jokes and humor is only a temporary fix. As much as I enjoy making others laugh I love to laugh myself. I enjoy comedy over almost any other form of entertainment and for me it is an essential part of my life.

   How many times have we met someone that just cannot seem to laugh or be amused at the absurdity of things? Instead they become angry, distressed and respond with phrases like, "that's not funny, it's just stupid." While they may be right, something can be stupid and funny at the same time. We must realize however, that the things we find funny do not appear that way to others. For example I find myself cringing more than laughing at some of the ridiculous antics of people that while silly and foolish are not really funny. I rarely if ever laugh when someone commits a faux-pas in public that is embarrassing such as falling, tripping etc.

  All that being said I constantly search for things to make me laugh. I have a number of Three Stooges dvds that provide many hours of laughter. I never miss a chance to watch one of my favorite comedians perform and I find pleasure in the ridiculous puns some of my acquaintances come up with. We should use humor for a good purpose. I try to shy away from humor as a mask or shield and instead embrace it as a curative measure for my inability to remain grounded and happy. Humor gives us a break from the grind of every day life and allows us respite from strife and struggle. Take the time to find some humor today. If not in the situation find manufactured humor to allow an escape. Study the subtle sarcasm of Bugs Bunny, or the in your face antics of Tom and Jerry. Lighten up and take a break for minute. You will be better for it and for a time will be able escape to a better place. I vow to laugh today no matter what it takes and find the humor I need to feel better and stay grounded as I start over, over 50.