Refueling my karma tank

I have a tendency to drive my car to zero. I let my fuel tank run dry and wait until the last possible moment to refill. When I finally pull into the gas station and start refueling air has been compressed in the tank and the gas is rejected. My car believes it has a full tank even when it has been running on fumes. This is added to the embarrassment factor by living in a state that doesn't allow you to pump your own gas. I have to tell the attendant over and over again I really am on empty. One time it took ten minutes to put in ten dollars worth of gas, thirty cents thirty brutal seconds at a time. I guess I should know better by now then to let my car's tank get so low, but what about the tank inside of me? The fuel there is not gasoline but karma, and lately it has been running on empty too.

My Sunday's are usually spent refilling my karma tank for the week walking dogs at the animal shelter. For whatever reason the last few years, whenever I walk dogs on a Sunday I have a great overall week following. Either my attitude is better, the sales are better in my job, and everything seems to click. The last month I haven't been able to walk dogs for various reasons. The last two weeks I've actually driven out there it's been packed with volunteers. I don't know where all these people have come from. What was my secret oasis refueling station has now become a Costco gas station. Everyone has decided that walking shelter dogs is the thing to do and they've hijacked my Sunday ritual. I guess I should be happy people are walking dogs, but I'm also annoyed because I feel I've lost the one thing I could rely on to jump start my week on a positive note. I'm actually greedy about my giving and I want to be stingy on my volunteerism. Why can't these people go do something else?

So now I have to find something else to provide balance and refuel myself. I'm not going to crowd around kennels and wait for dogs to come back from their fifth walk of the day so I can walk them a sixth time. I'm not going to jump volunteers and bully my way back into the dog walking rotation. It's over. I've already been muscled out. The fifty year old ladies who have overrun the shelter on my Sundays have won. Oh yeah, I guess it's about those mangy mutts huh? Yeah I guess they are the real winners. These dogs get more attention now then if they actually had owners. Some of them walk more in a day now then people's dogs walk in a month. It's not a shelter it is a resort. All that is missing are the cocktails with the umbrellas being served to these clever canines.

Even when I am doing good deeds I'm looking for my payoff. The payoff doesn't necessarily have to be bars of gold or fame (though that is preferred) but even just good karma. Something good happening in return for something good I do. It is a quid pro quo system. I do for the universe and the universe in return does something for me. So in the end my selflessness is entirely selfish which probably negates any positivity I'm giving out into the same universe because I'm looking to absorb it right back. There is a word for that but it is not politically correct and would therefore bring me bad karma. My tank is too empty and I can't afford it.

The shark commeth and he commeth soon

We are supposed to become wiser with age, but I find myself just running out of excuses for my dumbness. It's as if time peels away layers of our bullshit so that we can't even present the lie convincingly anymore. The new lie is acceptance of our fate and our behavior. This is "who I am." I can't change this behavior it is "ingrained". I've used 33 cards in a 52 card deck and I'm running out of Aces.

February being my birthday month would seem to be my best month of the year, only it's not. The build up to another year off the clock culminates through expectations unlived and unfulfilled. I wonder about old dreams and goals and bury myself in excuses of their unimportance, but that believability thing kicks in. When you are six the idea of watching wrestlers perform on television is exciting and you are caught up in the myth. When you reach my age the spectacle of a returning actor back to WWE wrestler only makes me feel sadness for him. I somehow doubt that this was his preferred career decision. Then I feel even worse because I had it on my television in the first place. I think that is desperation I smell cooking by the way. You see someone break away from what appears a career path pre-destined and making a name for himself only to abandon those efforts when things don't go as planned.

I have to also realize that being ill with some brutal congestive head cold can affect my thinking. I can barely breath and keep my head from imploding under the force of the pressure inside of it. I'm wondering about that pop rocks and diet soda idea right now. Does anyone still sell pop rocks? Maybe I will throw a few mentos in there for good measure. Is that my brain on fire I smell cooking?

It's been over six months since I started this blog yet my first entry was about my hike in Arizona last February so it feels like it's been a year. So for the hell of it I'm claiming this the year anniversary of my blog. Wow, a whole year, all the ups and downs, trials and tribulations; the highs, lows, and below freezings. A year ago today me and Arthur Fonzarelli were on our water skis in our swim trunks and leather jackets about ready to jump over a pool of seething and starving sharks. I remember Richie Cunningham, Ralph Malph and Potsy looking over us nervously with Joanie and Chachi. Those were crazy times, good times, with good friends...and I'm sorry the Fonz didn't survive, but it wasn't my fault.Yes I believe that medication is kicking in now.

I won't keep rambling because my attempt at a profound and inspiring post has been sullied by Happy Days. Tomorrow is another day and Annie is getting a remake and I'm sure we aren't too far from a Gone with the Wind remake and Scarlett O'Hara being cast. And with Hollywood's great casting, do I smell Oscar for Megan Fox? Thanks for reading for the last year and I'll promise to add more in depth knowledge and perspective the next go around or I'll just jump in the water. Who needs pop rocks?

Who needs love when we have death and taxes

That a seminar for death and taxes is scheduled on Valentine’s Day is absolutely fitting. After all what better way to appreciate how fleeting love can be then when we pair it up with certainties. You can sing love songs, write poems, and shower with gifts and flowers but when the music fades, the words fail, and the flowers die well now you can pay some taxes and count down your inevitable demise. Isn’t that romantic? I know there is a Hallmark card there somewhere. In most states I’d even have to pay a sales tax on it.

This is one of my least favorite Hallmark holidays. It gets this name because this day has kept the greeting card business going strong for years. It morphed into the email card business and now text greetings. I’m sure there is already a Hallmark application available for download on any touch screen phone so you too can get your digitalized love message delivered gratifyingly instant. I know that when I was in relationships I dreaded this day for the pressure that it creates. What is an appropriate gift? Do I go for the expensive item which can rush the phases of the relationship or do I low-key it and risk not showing enough? In more serious relationships, marriages, etc I imagine there is less pressure on the day, yet starting out or several months in it can be a very uncomfortable day. I especially “love” the dinner phase of the night when every couple seems to be out on their romantic date and where the conversation lulls can be excruciating. This was a day to bring doubts and insecurities to every relationship or potential one, all you can do on a day like Valentine's Day is escape the day unscathed. A net/loss and net/gain of zero is the goal. So in a way it is like business taxes. I want to show enough profit to gain her attention and make her feel appreciated but I don't want to pay taxes so I can't show too much. Of course if I need a loan later I'm screwed (or not).

Of course the best way around Valentine's Day is to just spoil yourself. You can walk into your favorite jeweler and then walk out with a beautiful $2500 necklace. Therefore you bypass that whole tax thing to begin with. I cannot wait for the Surreal Life to come back with Lindsay and Charlie in the house. I would watch every episode. In fact any reality show with the two of them together would be better than any sitcom or film role could ever provide. We are talking Emmy awards and Oscars if they arrived to the big screen version. This could be epic. Now that is a movie I would gladly take a Valentine's date to! I would even buy her flowers. Or in honor of the stars, I'd walk out of the store with them at least.

Is optimism optical or obsolete?

Today was...uh...fun. Well it was "fun" in that I wasn't stuck in the snow, buried on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago for 12 hours freezing my ass off. "Fun" in that I wasn't getting mauled on the streets of Cairo, Egypt by a group of protestors on camels with whips and rocks as my country spun into deeper chaos with every foreign journalist trying to broadcast the reality with hand held camcorders, some more successful than others. "Fun" in that I wasn't an officer showing up at the residence of some delusional nut job in Florida after she shot and killed her two teenage children for being "mouthy".  And yet not as much "fun" as Charlie Sheen partying with a houseful of porn stars drinking himself into a million dollar stupor and writing $30,000 checks his ass can actually cash. No today was not fun at all.

Optimistic is looking at the bright side of things, or comparing situations that are much worse and elevating the status of your situation in comparison. Well at least that is my version of optimism lately. It could be worse. Situations could always be worse. I suppose even if I were on Lake Shore Drive buried in snow and stuck I could be the guy not in the car. Even if I were on the streets of Cairo and getting pelted with rocks at least they weren't grenades and if I were that arresting officer putting that psychotic lady behind bars at least she didn't shoot anyone I knew. Of course I could be Charlie Sheen making millions and partying with porn stars...bastard. There I go with my pesimism again. Oh well, we can't have everything.

The day to day is what it is. I remember hearing this phrase originally from an old manager when I was in the mortgage industry..."it is what it is". How right that phrase resonates. What can we do but go through the motions sometimes. We can try to put the best face on things but when you put lipstick on a pig...well that one has been overdone. Keep your chin up, so that someone can clock you straight on it and you can fall flat on your ass. Speaking of that Charlie Sheen just wrote another check for $30K.

Tomorrow is Friday. The Superbowl is Sunday and a pretty potent UFC is scheduled Saturday night. There are reasons to be optimistic....maybe.

Letting down the expectation

Gene Hackman is a great actor. If there is a Western movie and Hackman is in it then it is already going to be an instant classic. Which is why you can't always go by the name. He's no hack. I was thinking about this while watching the show Deadwood on HBO on demand. That show was fantastic. The last season was not as strong as the first three, but it definitely deserved a resolution and that the main writer decided to quit Deadwood and start some terrible series about a spiritual surfer that didn't last one always makes me think of great let-downs. There have been a lot of great let-downs. Some fantastic series have left sour tastes in our mouths because the endings were flat. This happens in sports too. Currently I'm watching a horrible Pro Bowl game that has followed an awful Lakers-Celtics game earlier in the day. All this build up and no payoff. When we strike gold it is usually luck and not planned, yet the marketing machines do their best to convince us that we are going to watch something epic, yet it rarely ever is.

Sometimes I wonder if I am marketing myself. I build things up in my head that certain events are going to be legendary, that they will surpass expectations, and that they will always be remembered. Most aren't. There may be brief glimpses of the past that shine through but they fade away in the distance. I find myself trying to repeat and relive moments when there is not the same chemistry or magic as there was on the moments that are memorable and worth holding on to. And in a way it is not fair to build up so much expectation because we are bound to be disappointed when it doesn't go as planned. What could be a moment gets washed away by the barrier we have set it to. I've created let-downs by the visualization of the events before they happened. This could be my need for instant gratification and acknowledgement instead of letting something cultivate organically. I want it simulated and reproduced. I want the microwave option instead of letting the pot of water simmer and build steam.

I can't be fully at blame for this. I work in an industry that expects instant results yesterday. There is no appreciation for the completed work, just the daily results. That it would trickle into my day to day life outside of work can not be unexpected. We start wanting instant results in all areas of our life. The daily ups and downs, the balance and the full appreciation for our lives, as well as the paths we take are bogged down by this need to make every day memorable and productive. I look at people now at 22 and 23 striving to hit a mark that I know myself doesn't exist. That was me, the constant striver, always reaching and trying to surpass the next hurdle or goal but for what? What was accomplished that creates any real value or that lasts. The monetary goods are never going to inspire. I think we cling to the monetary because it gives us the ability to fit in with society. We are embarrassed if we do not have the new Iphone that everyone else does. If we do not desire the same gadgets or prizes that our neighbor or friend does. Somehow this creates our own value or at least justifies the wheel we run circles in everyday for a bite of cheese.

I constantly want to fit in but then chastise myself for this need to do so. Am I the grown up or the young striver? Do I need to hold onto the dreams of my youth or let them go and accept the life before me. Can you embrace both? I envy my friends with children and also am grateful for my life without them. It's both shallow and my own. I know time doesn't last forever and that as the years trickle by the opportunities to build a family will not always be available. In the old west I would just get on my horse and ride into the next cow town. I guess their biggest let-down would be if they were ambushed on the trail by Indians, or outlaws and failed to survive the attack. The failure to survive a harsh winter or find enough food to eat would be a let-down I suppose. I guess that makes me appreciate this thrilling 42-14 Pro Bowl game a little more..or less.

A shot glass and a piece of chalk

The idea of shots of jaeger always sounds better in the preparation and the implementation but not so good in the day after explanation and in some cases regurgitation. In hindsight after the miserable day after hangover which seems to last an eternity and much longer than the fun the night prior we can appreciate the night out more than regret it. Good times with friends don't always have to have shot glasses raised but it doesn't hurt, at least not too much...

A great friend is leaving the country and on a voyage to another land. In the olden days of the 18th or 19th century it would be goodbye forever. Nowadays with Facebook and virtual communities which seem more vibrant than actual cities people live in, it's more likely I'll check your profile next week. Still it is sad to see a friend go even though the opportunity to experience other parts of the world is something we should all be fortunate enough to embrace. There is a ton out there to see, beyond the confines of the cities we were born and raised in.

It's interesting how certain people or friends can impact our lives. First impressions aren't always the best ones to go upon. Sometimes great friendships build over time and sometimes they don't exist at all. The one thing I appreciate is perspective and depth. People that are curious to the world we live in and how we reflect upon that world are people we need more of. It seems that too often we fail to challenge ourselves and take the safe path instead of the bold path. It doesn't mean you have to take drastic actions in life decisions, it can simply mean picking up a book that reflects a different perspective than your own. Another way to see things is a better way to understand if we are seeing them clearly at all.

One analogy for myself I always go back to is a chalkboard. I remember growing up before white boards, yes I'm that old, when teachers wrote with chalk on chalkboards. If they wrote one word we could focus on it and absorb it. Yet, if they continued writing that word was harder to focus on, we would start to train our eyes on the words that best fit us in our minds. If the board was full of words then maybe none of the words stuck with us and we were just overwhelmed by the volume of words. Our minds cluttered with the meaningless and less important information. Or maybe we would get transfixed by the different color chalk. The point is, our minds are like the chalk board. We may have something important we should be focusing on but the day to day inundates us with the meaningless. Pretty soon that one word message that should be what drives us gets buried under the powder of chalk.

There are important friends in our lives, there are important conversations, there are important moments, and there is a lot of dust and powder. It is up to us to determine what sticks with us and what resonates in our lives after the dust settles.

De mist, La niebla, The Fog

The major problem with fog is that you can't see in it. The view is obstructed, more so than snow, sleet, rain, or hail. Even the mailman's creed doesn't guarantee that you will receive your mail in this element. In Adventures in Odyssey, the character Wooton Bassett said the mailman motto is: "Rain or shine, snow or sleet, we deliver your mail! (But sunny days are optional...)" He should have added "and fog?..your shit out of luck bud."

Fog, or de mist in Dutch, has romanticized, horrified, and mesmerized us for centuries. It has also wreaked havoc on travel, caused countless accidents, and most recently denied my paycheck's arrival by several days. This is a combination of my head being in de mist for the last two weeks and not setting up direct deposit into my account the way I should have already. Instead I have been awaiting paper delivery in which la niebla has decided will not happen just yet. Today the rain was supposed to wash away this lingering wall of gray but it has only pushed it back a few feet. It's still there ready to pull forward once more, like walls closing in, and surrounding oneself in a fortress of isolation. Almost as if caught in a shimmering web of time, unaware of what lie ahead or what was left behind.

I remember growing up in the fog in the San Joaquin Valley. We didn't get the snow nor much rain, we just got drowned in layers of dense fog. It was almost as if you could scoop it away with your hands the stuff was so thick. On family trips we would go to the central California coast and go deep sea fishing off Morro Bay. The tiny fishing vessel would get lost in the fog a few miles off shore. You would feel as if you were adrift in the middle of the ocean. Behind the fog Jaws could be ready to pounce, a giant octopus could be surfacing, or a pirate ship itself lost in time could be slowly creeping up. All those await behind the uncertainty which is what la niebla represents most of all. Once it clears and the sun melts it away it is not a shark but a seal, nor a pirate ship but a buoy and we feel relieved and disappointed all at once.

Flying home for Christmas one year on Christmas Eve from Seattle I remember the fog causing much mischief. The plane was rerouted to San Jose and when we weren't given clearance to leave the plane there, once again directed to Monterrey. From there buses were scheduled to drive us the two plus remaining hours to Fresno. When the bus drivers decided a 1 am drive was not on the agenda a fleet of taxis were the back up option. I arrived to see the family Christmas day at 4 am. This would only be unusual if it wasn't so frequent. The east coast may have to deal with snow but the central CA valley and fog have caused far more delays and rerouting over the years and of that I would wager on.

There are many things I like about the fog. It is mysterious. It does make my mind wander with possibilities. In movies the scenes of fog can introduce lovers or villains. It can surprise soldiers in battle or save heroes from being pursued. It is then both a friend and an enemy, to be appreciated and feared, and make one instropective and aggravated. I know it does both to me. Yet at least it is the weather that is making things less clear than my mind which for the first time in a while seems pretty focused, minus a paycheck..that better be there Monday. Damn fog!