Maybe There’s Light At the End of the Tunnel After All

19 03 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Desk

As I do most Sundays after Church in the year since my mother has moved into assisted living, I and other close relatives will head to her place where she makes Sunday supper.  Some weeks she’s better than others, but she’s had a pretty good streak lately.  As you know, two weeks ago Sunday, she didn’t do any cooking, because it was her 78th birthday.

Mom has been seeing the increasing despondency in my face and knows what the problem is.

Today, she reminded me of something:  On the day of her 40th birthday, she would have liked to have had a midlife crisis, but she had an almost two-year old son to worry about, and a bunch of other worries.  In the 365 days that would follow, her own father died in August, I lost my hearing in November but quickly got it back with ear surgery the next month.  But even that temporary hearing lost happened at the worst possible time, and stunted my speech and language development, and it wasn’t until seventh grade that I was fully caught up.

Her point was that I needed to calm down and realize how good I have it.

And when I think of it, at this point in my life, I’m better off in majority of ways than either my mother or my father when they were on the verge of turning forty.  The only thing my father on his own 40th birthday could say that he has on me on mine is that his career track was a hell of a lot more stable, even if it was unremarkable (Chrysler assembly line, and a barber shop on the side).  Me, less stability, but way more interesting.  My mother at 40?  Almost as stable, but only a little more interesting than my father’s (chiropractor).

Then I remember that my 80-year old father is in a nursing home and not compos mentis, and could go at any moment.  I don’t want to think about the symmetry of me losing my father when I’m 40 just like my mother lost hers when she was 40.

Moo Juice

17 03 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Desk

Had to stock up on moo juice on the path between salt mines and nest.

Every gallon in the store had the same sell-by date.

Guess which date.

It’s getting real, and now so close enough to show up on milk gallon sell-by dates.

And it’s coming, right on schedule, whether I like it or not.

They’re Really Gonna Do This To Me

25 02 2017


That optics are more powerful than abstract concepts is a concept I have understood for quite awhile.

For most of this past week, I was in Denver on business.  Two days ago, in the hotel room, while channel surfing, a local spot for the business organization of Ford dealers of Denver came on, and it lauded the fact that the Ford F-Series has been the best selling truck since 1977, that this is the 40th anniversary of the sales streak.  Part of the visual of the buy was a graphic that showed the numbers “1977” and “40.”

Like I said, optics are more powerful than abstract concepts.

You’re really gonna do this to me, world?

Middle Age Crazy, Trying to Prove I Still Can

1 02 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Hotel Room

It’s finally starting to hit home when I put it in these terms:  “Next month, I turn 40.”

I actually looked forward to turning all my other previous milestone ages.

So, someone tell me why I’m freaking out and losing my mind over this particular one.

Ironically, not only do I think the decade I don’t want to face and the one I wish should hold off in arriving is going to be a very good one for me, but also at the same time, I have no desire to be 18 again.  Being 18 again means having to give up all of my accumulated wisdom from experience in the last 22 years.

Also, the way the midlife crisis is manifesting in me isn’t the red Corvette.  It’s the chronic worry that I’m going to leave this life at some point in the future not really having mattered to the world while in it.  My red Corvette is mattering, making something of a noticeable difference.  Hence, my startup.

You get both versions, the JLL version was cut the year I was born, while there’s a run on irony.

Oddly, almost everyone thinks that it’s Travis Tritt doing T. Graham Brown’s version.

And Now, Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Real World

22 01 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Desk

I don’t think I want to spin for quite some time to come, unless the compensation is extremely lucrative.

Because, once you’ve seen someone dressed up as a frog dancing to Jane Child and Shalamar, there’s nothing left to see.

Open thread to let me know what real world news I missed since Friday afternoon.

The Year of the Frog

19 01 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Hotel Room

How I’ll be commencing the year of the frog.

After I post whatever I do today, expect nothing until Sunday afternoon.

First off, I’ll be getting back home some time tonight.  I’ve made some really good progress on the startup this week, and on top of that I got some potentially good news of very good strike-while-the-iron-is-hot timing in the WSJ.

Two days ago, I got a call from someone who heard through the grapevine that I support Trump and do occasional spinning on the side.  Cut to the chase, I’ve been given a paid gig to spin for a local word-of-mouth invite-only Trump inauguration party that will be held in a secret location.  Since inauguration this time around is on a Friday, it means this particular party, and most inauguration parties I imagine, will be two-night affairs.

Which means I’ll be mostly off the grid for a few days.

And also, the power of networking.

The Party Really Is Over

8 01 2017

Your Blogmeister’s Desk

Gathered some grub from the grocery store this afternoon.

This song, though the slow version of it, the radio edit, was playing on the store’s PA.

You know, I’m so old that I remember that when you heard this version of this song, almost all asses got on the dance floor.

And now? Its derivative is being used for grocery store music, and Daft Punk is being used for talk radio bumpers.

It’s the cosmos’ way of telling me that I’m not as young as I used to be.