The Foulest Of Moods

I haven’t figured out exactly why I am in the foulest of moods and ready to fight with anyone and everyone but I have my suspicions.

Have intentionally not responded, replied or acknowledged a couple of things because  I have an urge to go full blast and very few people will accept and or tolerate that.

And the thing is, if they provided an opportunity for me to throw a few more bombs I might do it just because.

It is not logical, rational or responsible but it it is how I feel at this moment and it doesn’t often happen.

It is the kind of thing where I notice those who can stand in the fire, those who wilt and those who walk or run away.

Most run.

The Air We Breathe

Maybe it is because there have been a few moments where the air we breathe has been fouled and I felt like I was choking.

A few moments where I wondered what the fuck just happened and asked if I just got kicked in the balls intentionally or if worse, teeth were used…also intentionally.

The beauty of not being thirty years younger is I have far thicker skin and much less need than ever for stroking.

Been living 0n my own for decades so I have grown accustomed to some of this and also willing to accept misunderstandings and narishkeit caused by text and other devices of miscommunication.

So I am planting my feet, setting my intentions and pushing forward because it is the only way things get better and nothing changes without forward momentum.

People can call me crazy, uninformed and or misguided if it makes them feel good. They can unfriend me if it is easier not to be challenged.

It is a give no quarter and refuse to back down kind of time anyway.

Cue Eric Carmen and keep moving.


My daughter joined me at the gym again today and she made me smile more times than I can count.

That girl pushed hard on the machine and I did my best to match her because I knew doing so would help me get more out of a workout on a day when I knew I didn’t have the edge I wanted.

That has happened more times than I like to admit lately, the missing edge that is.

Some of it is because my sleep has been off a little bit and some of it has been because I expect a different man to show up at the gym.

That guy is half my age and has far less mileage than I do. He is younger and stronger physically than I am and though I am far tougher mentally that doesn’t go very far.

But I am not convinced I can’t find a way to bring him closer to the present and to make him more tangible and less of a ghost.

I suspect that finding a way to cut stress in half or at least by a third will go a long way.

That is a conversation I’d have with dad or my grandfathers but they aren’t here so it is just me.

Swing For the Fences

Going to be a little while longer before the beard gets thick enough to look like I haven’t been lazy and a while longer before I can see if the swings I have taken have sent the balls beyond the walls.

Sometimes you shoot for singles and doubles figuring that it will add up and lead you to where you want to be and sometimes you go hard.

At the moment I am not overthinking things or trying to be clever because it is easier to go with what is natural and swing for the fences.

The big hitters strike out more often but they also come up with the big plays and circumstances require focus on a comeback.

Ain’t got time to try to piddle and paddle my way upstream or to take a casual stroll.

We’re going to ride the barrel over the falls and do our best to not hit the bottom. It is a mix of a calculated risk and experience saying we can manage alongside crossing our fingers and sticking a horseshoe and rabbit’s foot in our bag.

Made it work before and can do it again or so we believe.

And if we don’t, well I prefer to go down swinging than watching strike three cross the plate.

That is the joy of the foulest of moods, it pushes you to respond and to do more than just sit back.

Time will tell.

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