Forty-Nine More Lies About Turning 50

It still throws me to see Ryan Hurst play Gerry Bertier in Remember The Titans, sorry dude, you’ll forever be Opie to me. Samcro forever and all that.

Any time you suffer from heart break you might want to watch this and remember what we say, “Not Today.”

I know a girl and a few others who ask why people waste their time watching Game of Thrones and I say if you dared you’d take my hand and I’d show you a new world.

Or I’d just say if you think the show is about dragons and magic you know nothing, it is called Game of Thrones because it is about people.

It is about relationships. It is about greed, lust and love.

It is about people.

Cue Wichita Lineman and a couple of stories short of 49 more lies about turning 50.

I Blocked A Few More

I rarely block people on Facebook because if you tangle with me my nature isn’t to hide your words from me or mine from you.

I like to think not blocking irritates you because I am the guy whistling as he walks by you without a care in the world. But there are moments where it makes m0re sense to block people who decide their sole purpose is to troll you.

Found a couple recently who would respond to everything I post by cutting and pasting some variation of “you’re a snowflake.”

I wasn’t offended or bothered by it, but I was bored and since they made a point 0f tagging me I reached a point where I saw no reason not to block.

Wasn’t g0ing to have a real conversation in which there was hope of changing their minds or the lurkers so enough was enough.

I suppose every now and then I go looking for the board because there were gifts and moments that came with the Norbs, Tims, Lulus and Judys.

Changed my life, it really did.


If I was a more superstitious man I might say there is a reason this song came on while I was writing this.

I might say I remember way too much with far too much clarity and I live far too many lives blended with the one I currently am cruising through.

Reminds me of the time a man told me men aren’t allowed to cry unless they howl and wail.

Mad me think of a moment from earlier in which a woman told me I can be quite scary when I really yell. I asked if there was ever concern I would be physically violent and got an immediate no.

Asked the teenage boy who set me off this morning like I haven’t been set off in forever and he said he has never feared for his safety and wondered if the old man could hear me in heaven because I know the neighbors three blocks over wondered if a platoon of Marines were attacking their home.

The teenage boy looked at me and asked how many times grandpa and I went at it and I laughed, “more times than either of wanted to remember.”

He nodded his head and I asked him how often I raise my voice and he said rarely.

“So if you notice the volume going up it is a pretty good indication that I am unhappy about something right?”

He nodded his head and we hashed out the how and why of it all and I walked away wondering how many times dad walked away from me certain we were going to bang heads again.

“You can’t screw an old head on young shoulders.”

Against The Wind

I’ll forever be singing this song, could be one of the themes,
Against the wind
I’m still runnin against the wind
I’m older now but still runnin against the wind

I turned the treadmill speed up to 9 and started to really let go and then I felt the track hiccup and thought I might fall off of the damn thing.

There is no joy in falling off of one of those especially during a time when you could be lucky enough to be filmed so that your fall is forever immortalized on YouTube.

Finished my time on the human hamster wheel and thought some more about how there have been two shootings at synagogues in America during the last six months.

Thought about some of the recent cartoons and coverage in the New York Times and wanted to ask when they decided a digital pogrom is a cool thing.

What do I say to my kids?

How do I explain this?

What sort of response is there and what kind of response should there be?

Are we going to see a time when leaving the the US sounds like a smart move and not crying wolf?

And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
Found myself further and further from my home and I
Guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads

I know what Dad would say and what advice he would give.

I know what I think and mostly what I would do, mostly serving as recognition that it is hard to conceive of this turning into a land viewed as run by Cossacks, nazis or other antisemites.

If you run away you give up your ability to really push back but maybe it never reaches that place. Maybe that moment in time is a space never found nor occupied.

Can’t buy trouble.

Won’t buy trouble.

What do we say to the God of Death?

Not Today.


There is a picture of a castle tied to this post. There is a story tied to that castle.

Maybe one day I’ll tell it.

Maybe one day I’ll live it.

Maybe one day there won’t be so many maybes and instead there will be lots of is and was.

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