Month: May 2024

Today is the last High School track meet of my mid kid’s life. He’s doing it right. He’s competing for the open state championship–trying to be one of the top 3 runners in the state for 3 different events. It is a huge honor for him to have made it this far. Monday he will be celebrated as one of the best athletes of the season in Tempe–also an honor. He’s done it right athletically. That is why I struggle with realizing he’s a kid who just turned seventeen a month ago and treats his pop like utter crap.

These things are part and parcel of growing up. One doesn’t become old without also stepping on toes, making mistakes, challenging boundaries, and so on. However, I am a son with no parents of note. I had a step dad, but he passed on before I saw my first high school classroom. My birth dad is possibly alive. I tracked him to a particular state where all New Yorkers seemingly go to die (though he is actually from the Carolinas), but I have no relationship with the man and wouldn’t even know what to say if I did find a number. My mother is alive. She’s going to be at my kid’s graduation… Likely with my ex-wife. That sounds like a bad reflection on me, but it is actually more about them and their manipulations and bad choices I’ve made throughout life. So, when I talk about these relationships, I am not only talking about a kid (or kids) but I am also talking about the larger idea of these connections and the push and pull of it all.

It all (as it were) started with me not doing exactly what my kid wanted. This happened twice in a row in circumstances that one could consider escalating. The issue was this: There was no way his mom would do the crazy crap he was asking, so he asked his dad. When dad said no, it became dad’s fault, because dad always covers when mom sucks. Me not being that guy made me the bad guy. Sad, but true. I created the conditions of expectation that led to me being openly expected to continue behaving in such a way. When I didn’t behave as required, I was met with the full force of teenage angst and the cold shoulder.

What really sucks is that I’m soft-hearted enough to care. I wish I could buckle down and channel my inner Denzel “Love you? Boy, I raised you!!” but that isn’t working. Instead I’m facing depression off this nonsense. Owning it matters. Owning it helps me to realize what is happening and not to let it happen again. We all need to control the conditions in our lives that seek to control us, and for me this talk is a healthy way to start.

The greatest lesson I’ve learned as a father is that I need to teach my kids how to stand on their own two feet. I mean we do it all the time throughout their childhood, but at a point some of us stop. I’m a divorced man dealing with an ex-wife and a family of not-in-laws that doesn’t want to teach my young men how to be men but instead wants those men to need them and wants to coddle those men. As a result my work is harder and my relationship with my men suffers.

It is easier to be on the side of the person saying ‘i will do it for you’ than it is to stand with the person telling you to do it yourself. If it were up to my ex none of the boys would leave this state until she did and they would decide where to go together. She needs them to need her. Just like her sister defines them as her kids. This sister doesn’t have kids of her own, so her investment in mine is paramount. My boys know this, play into this; love this. I’m fine with it to a point. Everyone needs a good aunt to help out and show support.

I am not fine with boys being dependent on such things to the point where they are being taught not to see past that. I’m tired of living in such an existence, and I am done living in it as well. Change often needs to be forced because comfort doesn’t demand it.

It is long past time for people to feel uncomfortable.

239.6 No, it isn’t a future blog number. It is in fact how much I weigh. I’m supposed to be 20 lbs less by now. Yet I’ve gone the opposite direction. I looked in the mirror yesterday and saw the side view of a man who really needs to change. Of course, what I want to do is be dramatic about it and pull of some Rocky level stuff, but those things don’t keep. The most effective thing I’ve ever done in my life–the most consistent positive thing–is this blog. I manage to drag my butt to the screen or the page every day for ten minutes. Some days I love it. Some days I have to really tap each key slowly in order to get all the way through. You can tell by the content and by the length exactly where I am with writing (and likely emotionally) that day. Even on empty I get this done.

So why not start that with my body?

I can do ten minutes. I can do HITT for ten. Sure, it isn’t going to get it done, but it is going to help move me towards a lifestyle. I need to be more active in order to activate the ability to burn off this fat that is surely to kill me. I feel it in my body and in my brain. I feel slower and less healthy and mentally coming apart at the seams. Yet I am doing next to nothing about it.

239.6. I will get started today. 238.6 next Thursday. My goal is a pound a week again. Just one pound. That, according to the Mayo Clinic, means burning 500-1000 calories more than I consume daily. It means raising my resting metabolic rate. It means getting more and better quality sleep. All of these things are part of the process. I need to start taking the process a lot more seriously.

My life actually depends on it.

Basketball is fun again? So fun in fact that I’m totally blaming the success of the Knicks for Jon Stewart being out on Monday… Maybe it is true. Maybe it isn’t. What is true is that Women’s hoops got a huge boost from the Gal from West Des Moines (the hood part). Caitlin Clark grew up balling with people who could really play, and held her own. She held her own with Greg Doyel too. Now she’s gotta carry the weight of a new generation of fans and fan expectations. It’s preseason, so I’ll get back to this later.

It’s post season in the NBA. As I said, the Knicks are winning–up 2-0 on the Pacers. The Celtics are up next if both teams can handle their opponents. I haven’t seen Knicks v. Celtics in the playoffs for as long as I can remember. I refuse to get excited because I remember what happened last time. That was 25 years ago.

Meanwhile, the NFL has nothing to say so I’m focused on College Ball and Spring HS ball, where my kids are getting to their next stages. The young one is trying to earn a varsity spot while his older brother is finishing an excellent HS track career before he prepares for the next level: D1 FCS College Ball. I am excited for the future that all of these kids have to look forward to. I’m excited to get to play them in future NCAA football video games.

Should be nice.

Let’s look back to 2.211..

And in terms of we what are we and why are we? how does existence exist? what holds it? what is the container in which the universe is held? what is it expanding into? The questions are endless and headache building, but they must be asked.

I was waxing about the universe. Later, in the thoughts, I was waxing about being burned out. I think I feel a little bit of both still, 6 years later. I am no closer to understanding the nature of death or the universe. I am no less burned out on specific things in my life–be it apologizing for being me, be it dealing with kids not liking me, be it not liking myself all that often. I am kind of done with all of it. Life often feels like the standing on the edge of a cliff knowing that every step up is going to be a bitch and if you don’t pay full attention to what you are doing, then you’re going to fall and you are probably taking people down with you.

How does existence exist? I don’t know. I do know that the why has to be better than the bullshit we focus our daily lives upon. We spend so much time trying to feel good about ourselves, be it through causing others to feel good about us or through other means. I opt for the former, which I’ve come to realize is and has always been the biggest mistake of my life. One day or day one, right? Well, I opt for day one of feeling good in and about my own skin and moving forward from there. I am fully sick of being beholden to how others feel about me. How I feel about me matters, and it is my purview to construct what that is.

It takes me two days now to shift gears from one project to another, an acceleration nearly 50 years in the making. That number, 50, is a big one, and something I am going to be thinking a lot about over the next few months. Given the life expectancy of Males in the US is 73 and but 61 for black men, this feels more and more like a countdown. Short of hoping that it is not, all I can really do is try my best to make use of the time I have left to walk around and enjoy this existence. So, the shift is a powerful one. I need to stay on my grind if I want to do the amazing things I keep reminding myself that I’m capable of achieving.

Writing is a central element in my life and one I’ve been building up in success over the past year. I don’t want to be satisfied with what I’ve done. Instead I want to reach further and higher and be able to parlay writing into an extension or even conduit for the life that the lady and I want to live moving forward. That means working more and being able to shift gears as opposed to downshifting and eventually stopping for long stretches between projects.

Some Thoughts:

1. I need to study the difference between heartburn and heart attack, because I don’t really know…

There is this thing my oldest son does every morning. He gets up, walks deliberately to a specific spot on the couch, sits, and absorbs the content of a handful of specific streamers. I joke about this in my head often–largely because I identify him as a consumer vs. creator and I’ll always have issues with that, but I respect his dedication to his rituals. It is something I envy and have tried over the years to mimic. So, every day I get up, I come to the page, I write something–anything down and I have my coffee. It isn’t much, but it gets me started.

I did it this morning as I did yesterday with this new project and I can feel my brain shifting into the new project in a positive way. Wake up to the work is what I mean to call it when I eventually write the book on writing. Of course, for that book and my voice to have value to readers I need to show them (you) how impactful and effective that is. What I really want to do is chart the development of this next novel and teach people how to fall into the 6 month schedule of writing a novel. There needs to be some other broader argument about the work before that–perhaps a generalized book on writing as a Life path, but if I am thinking about what has me curious, it is that fast turnaround schedule that mass market authors seem to be able to achieve.

Everything is ritual–be it the daily or the weekly or broader. Each ritual begins as each sentence begins, with the kernel step of stringing two things together, and then we grow from that. We link these rituals in complex fashions to create our own voice and our own magic to power our days and our lives. Meditation tells us to focus on the breath. I believe the step to step is the breath of writing and that first kernel ritual you devise will become your focus. So create that moment, be it the deliberate steps to the couch or the low gurgle of the coffee machine as it churns out your morning fuel. Stick to it. Make it your mantra as you move into your day.

The writing will follow.

Some Thoughts:

1. The creator vs. consumer argument is one I struggle with. I believe in the idea of content creation. I believe that people, in order to better understand and express themselves must create something on a regular basis. I have six kids. Three are creators. I consider it a failure as a father to not have instilled that creative philosophy in more of them. I value the contributions of both sides, mind you, but as a creator I want my kids to also create–even if it is just for themselves. I don’t think you can just be a consumer and be truly happy and connected.

Fun fact: Depression makes you tired. In an NCBI interview, a doctor stated. “We see prominent symptoms of fatigue in the majority of patients with depression. In fact, fatigue is one of the most prevalent presenting symptoms of MDD, the second most prominent residual symptom of MDD, and is often associated with impaired concentration, irritability, and reduced productivity.” I find all of this to be particularly troubling given my recent dip into the land of the clinically depressed.

My depression was triggered by an open and violent attack on my parenting skills coupled with the timing of letting my kid down and also recognizing that there are significant flaws in how I’ve related to my step kids to the point where the love and even respect is limited in different measures on both sides. In other words, what was said about my skills triggered a landmine that blew up my emotional condition. I don’t believe that what was said is true (that I’m a terrible father), however I do believe the perception exists and remains the dominant perception in the minds of many people. There are two camps–those who se me as sports dad/coach and those that see me as a bad father. There are a few people who don’t exist in either camp, and that’s probably a positive thing, but I’ve allowed those camps to become definitive of the role and how I permit myself to be perceived in life. So, when the hate rained down on me at a time when my kid was in need, it really hurt me. It hurt him too, because I straight up did the right thing in the moment and it hurt him in the moment.

Which according to everyone around him in the moment only reinforced the fact that I am a terrible father.

So, I grew depressed. It hurt to see all of that go down and the results of the emotional snafu impacted my kid greatly. Hopefully we are past that now. It’s too bad my body is not.

Some Thoughts:

1. New novel work stars next week!

I’ve just finished my latest novel. I don’t know that the feel of it has completely washed over me yet. I just know that it is over and I am elated to have accomplished the goal. Writing a novel is a difficult thing. This is not my first, nor will it be my last, and there is joy in knowing it is already sold and could be printed in a matter of months. This is the life I want for myself. I want to get better at it. I want to be able to travel for it and discover wonderful new places and write all about them. I want to be able to bring the Lady Talis along and make that lifestyle the core of what we do through our remaining years.

It can happen. It will happen.

But first, I am going to get a nice shot of whiskey, because that is how I get down when I get done.

Some Thoughts:

1. This was supposed to be Freewrite Friday, but I just knocked out the last 5 k of a novel, so nope.
2. When kids get in the middle of ex-drama it really sucks. It is a terrible experience for kids to have to endure, and I wish that people could be better to each other, but if they could’ve done that then they would not have needed to separate in the first place.

I think I’ve been poisoned. It happened a long time ago–80’s or earlier. I was poisoned into thinking that if your mother didn’t love you then you were not someone who deserved love. I have carried that in my veins for decades now, and through a marriage that was largely manipulative, and on into a future beyond that. I’ve been poisoned to the point where I almost entirely expect to die alone and unloved. The one flicker of hope I have is the love I am in now, and I fear that my fear and my history may be enough to ruin that as well.

This fear has a lot to do with letting other people define who you are to the world. I have spent a life letting other people define who I am in this world. I have spent that time hiding myself and often feeling less than about the things I do because it doesn’t meet what others want to be able to say about me or what others respect or what others need. I cannot express how tired I am of being a villain in someone else’s story, because they want to manipulate the truth to make themselves the hero.

Some Thoughts:

1. I’ve been following the polarizing debate about coach Prime for over a year now and for the first time in that saga I watched Prime actually say something to somebody who attacked one of his kids. He was instantly eviscerated by every news outlet I read for his willingness to ‘clap back’ as though he is supposed to be above it. Let me tell you that it is damn hard to stay above it when people insist on speaking on your name.