My old friend Neville would be proud to know another half dozen people on Twitter blocked me for demanding they provide substantive proof of their claims that their demented, delusional and deranged leader is praiseworthy.
They provided me with a list of accomplishments and cried when I said they were either fake news or lacked significance.
Talking to tough to North Korea doesn’t impress me, especially when you haven’t got a treaty or any sort of signed agreement that proves insulting someone on Twitter is effective diplomacy.
Neither is telling me we have dropped bombs on Syria or told the mad mullahs in Iran to watch out. Remember your old pal JW is hawkish and isn’t one to shy away from swinging the big stick.
But if you swing that stick you better accomplish something meaningful and significant or you risk lives unnecessarily.
Grunt A Little Louder
It is a rainy Saturday night and I am preparing for another plane ride west.
Got a little Scotch in my glass and as mentioned have enjoyed raining facts down upon some dolts who won’t ever agree that Dumb Donnie Do-Nothing is dangerous and that is ok with me.
The point isn’t to get them to come around but to make the lurkers think about circumstances and ask the hard questions about what is going on and whether this is the right direction to head in.
I probably ought to take a softer approach with some because you get more flies with honey but the people who say they like triggering others and use pejorative terms for their opposition sometimes require a size 12 boot to the behind.
So I sit here listening to music and thinking about several things:
- What has to be done.
- What I need to do that isn’t necessarily in the realm of have to.
- What I want to do.
Number three has played a much bigger role the last two days because there has been opposition to what I want and I simply haven’t got the tolerance to accept the hard push back.
That is probably being too nice because choice is involved here and I have spelled out my choice to do otherwise.
I have worked far too hard and been through too much to be told no so I am pushing forward and am comfortable dealing with whatever consequences come.
This old man won’t be the fool who dies saying he didn’t take his shot or try to push past and through the obstacles life sometimes throws in front of us.
The Joy Of Pain
I almost dropped the bar on my chest tonight.
It wasn’t because I watched the 19 year-old throw 265 around with reckless abandon, but that might have influenced things.
I put up up 225 for the first time in 18 months and quickly recognized I am just not there yet. Bad form is a good way to hurt yourself and my form was bad.
But I felt pretty damn good when I went in and the music made me shrug my shoulders and go for it.
So I dropped down to a more reasonable weight and banged out three mostly solid sets, mostly meaning I almost lost it on the second to last rep of the final set.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t panic, caught myself and pushed through it.
Banged out the best workout I have had in at least 2.5 years and couldn’t stop smiling because I felt my body remember who we were and try to make it into who we are.
Impatience and frustration could have prevented me from getting to this place. They could have derailed progress and made me wonder if this is as good as it gets.
That is an easy place to find, as good as it gets.
Because I ache in so many ways and have for long enough I almost forgot it doesn’t have to be like this.
Sometimes adversity and challenges crush us and sometimes they help push us to reach for that brass ring.
That is why you need to experience the joy of pain because if you locate that place you figure out how to go that one step further.
Getting to place isn’t a guarantee you won’t experience future failure or have your heart broken but it does mean you have a resource worth tapping into when needed.
Let’s Go For A Ride
Late Friday afternoon traffic in Historic Downtown Grapevine slowed me down long enough to notice a sign for a place called Doughlicious.
They make raw edible cookie dough and having been on the far side of Dallas just prior to getting there I was hungry enough to want to eat the brick off of the building.
But the sweet tooth won so I parked the car and wandered over to check this place out.
A parked car stopped me from walking straight in, it was a classic convertible Corvette. I am guessing about ’61 or ’62 but I could be wrong.
It was the kind of car that I have dreamed of driving, one that would be perfect for playing Born To Run in, destination unknown.
In my dream I would drive it down PCH under bright blue skies and eventually watch a beautiful sunset move to a gorgeous starry night.
Count that as part of those aforementioned wants I referred to earlier.
That is the kind of car you want to share the experience with.
It could be someone who appreciates cars or some person who you can be trapped on a desert island with and know you never get sick of each other.
Because that car isn’t for show or admiration.
It is not a piece of art you stare at.
Though it can be like that for some it is really better suited for serving as transport to a different world where you taste life.
It is St. Patrick’s Day today and we celebrated a little bit.
I am told I have had Irish relatives and potentially still do. Even if I didn’t I have a grandfather who was born on March 17 so we mostly celebrated his memory.
But that doesn’t stop me from saying I could be one of those Irish Jews, distant relation though it may be.
Maybe it is right, maybe it is not.
One day I might drive that Corvette I mentioned earlier through Ireland in search of those old relatives.
Or maybe I’ll just go because Ireland calls to me and part of my story is going to be told there.
A life without good stories to tell is just boring.
Wonder what my old friend Neville is up to these days. I bet if I located him he would have all sorts of questions to ask about me and Shmatas,
He’d probably be disappointed when I didn’t give him a full answer. He’d say it lacked substance.