....Of Poets And Madmen Pt.2

  It's funny how everyone has the answers to solve your problems without being in your situation. They love to expound about how they can put you on the right path even though they no nothing of how fractured your mind has become. Once in the grips of depression and pain even the most brilliant mind can fall victim to the disease. Depression hurts deeper than just what you see or read on the surface. When failure is the norm no matter what is a simple answer becomes a monumental task. Sometimes just getting up in the morning or falling asleep at night becomes a chore. Imagine never being able to feel happy for fear that something bad will come from it. Just picture yourself never getting joy from being around friends or family. Never feeling like you are good enough to achieve anything because you are always expecting the worse. No amount of words or macho bravado can comfort someone who expects to fail. When failure is your track record and bad luck your totem, you only expect bad things to happen. It's a cycle of self fulfilling prophecy that never ends. One who has never tasted an ounce of sustained success in life can not be expected to find solace in the words of other people unless they to are failures. Unsuccessful people only know the taint of failure and it's cruel twisted irony. Faith is lost and God seems so far removed from a person whose life has been plotted and shaped by failure.

   In many ways the constant failure begins to mark those who seemed a once normal person. They become sullen and angry at the world around them, never fully reaching any potential once thought attainable because of the expected failure or impending doom. They become contented in knowing that any success is short lived and that failure is right around the corner. Most people who suffer through this mindset fight themselves daily just to keep from exiting this life by their own hands. They have to find comfort in things most people try to avoid thinking or doing. The darkness become a cudgel to ward off the overwhelming feelings of self imposed hatred.

 That self-hate can lead many failures to destroy themselves by way of suicide. Many failures see this option as a way to stop the negative behavior that never seems to go away. When you live in a darkened world, light, becomes the enemy. Positive emotions only become a Siren Song leading a failure to his doom on the jagged rocks of life's torturous shores. Success for a failure is as foreign as a snowstorm in the Tropics. A failure doesn't expect to succeed therefor, they never do. Self-loathing and self-hatred undermine any shot at happiness. Many failures find the only way out of this maze of negative thoughts is to shut of the brain permanently. The only exit they find is self destruction. Through self destruction they finally find the peace they so desperately seek. They leave behind a cold cruel world and settle for a vast nothingness. Once again, the darkness wins.

  Do not read into this anything but the author trying to expose those out there, who do not suffer this kind of mental war, to the reality of someone fully ensconced in this kind of disability. Maybe then the enlightened masses will stop trying to impose their own opinions of what a person who has never felt happiness or success should do. When God seems like the enemy and Faith a fairytale, sometimes it's just enough to let a person suffering from this kind of malady know you are still a friend. Sometimes these people can seem distant and cold, just know they don't realize any other way to behave. You can't expect a failure to just snap out of it because years of felling like a failure will not go away in a moment. Sometimes it never goes away. No amount of rehashed catchphrases or religious passages will ever crack the hardened walls these people have built over the years. Just be a friend. Tell them they are loved despite their negative outlook and nurture their need to slowly evolve out of the darkness. Stand by them and let them know you care on a human level. Harsh words and Faithful diatribes only reinforce their belief that know one understands them. Try to understand this malady and go through it with them, refocusing their dark behavior in a kind and understanding manor. This disease will not go away overnight, try and hang in there when they relapse and don't get discouraged, you may be surprised what a sympathetic shoulder can do to change their mind. Let them know you are there for them, that is all most of them ask for to begin with.

....Of Poets and Madmen Pt.1

  When you are young, people never tell you that being a failure is a reality. We are filled with hopes and dreams that one day success will find us. We are never prepared to fail. The streets are filled with people who never realized the potential of their youth. Why?

  People lose sight of themselves and fall into the trappings of a society obsessed with beauty and wealth, never taking the time to discover the true meaning of who they are. They get caught up in the falsehood of the so-called American Dream. That dream becomes a nightmare with the realization that not everybody can be a success. People fail all the time never arriving at the top of any mountian, the mountian ends up on top of them. They fall into a state of dispair and spend the rest of their lives trying to unbury themselves from the tons of shit piled upon them, never finding help from family or friends or getting very little help from anyone. They become lost in a system of self lothing and depression, never able to step up to the challange of recovering the warm fuzzy feeling they had before they became failures. they wallow in the muck and mire of an unfulfilled potential that crushes them like bugs on a windshield, hopes and dreams are dashed by the wieght of  a cruel reality and a heartless world. Their pain becomes the only thing that they live for, living in a mass darkness which consumes every moment of their lives. The pain is the only thing that they can relate to, happiness is just a lie told to them by other people. Why does everyone insist on comforting others by saying "things will get better?"  How does anyone know things will improve?  Where is your proof?

   In a life filled with failure and pain the hope of a better tomorrow is just rubish. When all you know is heartache and disappointment, that is all you expect...nothing more. The darkness becomes sunshine to the ones who have done nothing but failed. Loss and grief becomes your daily sustinance. A world of a loving God becomes a fairytale to those who can no longer pick themselves up off the floor one last time. Why get back up when you're only going to fail again and again?
Despite what you are told by everyone else FAILURE IS AN OPTION. Failure happens everyday. There just comes a point in your life when getting back on your feet seems like a fruitless endevor. Sometimes it's just better to stay down and accept that you are a failure. Self lothing almost feels as good as a hug, darkness shines as bright as the sun and words of hope become useless background noise.

Ode To Lucy

Sometimes life throws you curveballs. On August 17th 2011 life threw me one. I lost my lover, my friend, and my soulmate Lucy Friend. She died leaving behind many people who loved her including her young son Reed. I miss her more with every breath I take. She was more than a partner in my journey called life, she was a teacher, a poet, and the kindest soul I have ever met. She inspired me to become a better father, friend, and in general a better person. She made me feel whole for the first time in a long time. She took a broken man and helped put the pieces back together. She was loving, kind and patiant to a man who had become bitter and angry over many years. She gave me purpose, hope, and helped me to find peace in a turbulent mind. She breathed new life into me. For everything she gave to me I am thankful. In a thousand lifetimes I could never repay her for the loving grace and kindness she gave to me. Lucy was a special person whos kindness echoes in the memories everyone who knew her will carry the rest of their lives.

She was a wonderful mother whom gave her son Reed everything she had. She taught Reed kindness and strength and in return Reed gave Lucy his heart. Reed loved his mother so much. Reed gave his mother a feeling of joy and happiness. They shared a special bond that can only happen between a mother and her son. Reed is a special kid with a heart that overflows with love and compassion. He is an obediant child who cares more about helping others than he does himself. He has grown up in the arms of loving parents and a mother who invloved herself in every aspect of his life. Reed was Lucy's life.

She lived not the life of kings and queens yet lived each day to serve others above herself. We lived a simple life together spending each day as if we were millionares. We did have the luxuries of the wealthy instead we fill our lives with the treasures of love. We were, in the truest definition, soulmates. Where one left off the other began, when one of us stumbled, we picked each other up. The world could not harm any of us as long as we were together. She anchored our family, giving us all the love we needed and more. She was our strength.

Now my journey has begun anew without my soulmate by my side. The waters have been rough yet I continue to push forward into the great unknown. Each day presents new challenges for me to overcome as I move forward witout her. I no longer have her physically here to help guide me through the tough times, so I can only pray that from Heaven she will continue to help me take on lifes unending tests. For now her voice is the wind in my ears, her hope the smell of spring blooms. Her strength will be the little voice in my head driving me on and her love is a warm blanket on a chilly night. Lucy will never leave us as long as we remember her boundless love and selflessness. I miss my one true love and will try and carry her flame with me to find my way in the darkness the is the forever unknown. Rest well my queen as for one day we will be reunited in the house of God and spend all eturnity together as it should be.

My Opinion, That Is All!!!!!

I was going to sit down and write some clever diatribe about the state of the world and how down right depressing it is. I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with something that could put a positive spin on our obsession with the negative side of living, but I just can't bring myself to do it. The following is verbatim how I feel about the actions of most Americans today,  if you don't like it, tough, life isn't a spectator sport. Get off your ass and do something to change your way of life positively. That way you won't be getting angry at my opinions, you'll be too busy healing the world to care.

First off people like Glen Beck shouldn't be allowed near a microphone when voicing their opinions. These gutless loudmouthed jerks have nothing to say positive about our world or how to repair it. I have an idea for Glen, instead of running off at the mouth why don't you focus your energy on helping us reach an accord so all people can live on this planet on harmony. Either be part of the solution or stay in your little hate filled corner and leave us believers in a better tomorrow alone. I know all about the first amendment, but I just don't believe people should weld it like a club to bash the snot out of people they don't understand. Try a little compassion, it goes a long way in healing those who seem to be outcasts. Him comparing a group of murdered young political ideologists to "Hitler's Youth" is not only tasteless but a clear and contrite picture of why the rest of the world hates us. Glen Beck is a parasite and should be treated as such. Hey Glen I have two words for you "Shut Up!!!". Whatever happened to "if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all?"
My mom would wash your mouth out with soap and put you in the corner.

"A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life."  That was Charles Darwin. He knew the value of an unwasted life. The man barely slept. He did a lot of good as far as biology is concerned. Lets examine what a wasted life is. Amy Winehouse is a wasted life. Kurt Cobain is a wasted life. They both committed suicide, one by shotgun, the other by drugs. To me it's sad, both left grieving people (family members and fans alike), to ask the question why. They should not be deified, but held as flawed humans. Both had been offered help and refused believing they were right. Sad.
The majority of people in this country seem to have some Shakespearean  reverence for  actors and musicians who die young from self indulgence, so wrong. They are humans, people who chose the cowards way out. There is nothing cool about that. Why worship at the alter of a coward when an almighty God calls to you.

You want an answer, I'll give you an answer, go to Church. You want a better life, worship a God that is all loving and wants you to do well. God wants you to be successful, He just wants you to acknowledge that it was He who helped you achieve your goals, nothing more. Is it that hard to realize that you aren't in control, maybe you should get off your high horse and realize you can't do it alone. I don't know you, but as a Christian I want you to be successful. In this "dog eat dog" world I know that my statement isn't cool but, I do wish all well. I want the world to heal. I want all of us to learn tolerance and humility in the face of God. We can all come together under the flag of God's justice. We must learn to love one another as God's children, not hate those who don't think like us. Understanding is a powerful tool, tolerance is a powerful tool, God is a powerful tool.  This is God's world not ours, maybe it's time to treat it as such.

Hydrox and Pepsi, Please!!!!!!!

He was a rebel. A man different from most fathers I knew. To me he always seemed like he could've been one of the kids. He had a sense of humor and an easy smile that made you realize his inner child wasn't so inner. He was a man who studied people. He would people watch for hours if you let him, of course in our new paranoid  world he'd be creepy. He was gentle with a warmth that always seemed to permeate every situation he was in. He was hard to hate, believe me I tried, but it's hard to hate a man who believes The Three Stooges are high art.

My father was well read and loved books on all subjects. He could read and glean all the information he needed in just one sitting. He loved books about nature, one of his favorites was James Herriot's "All Creatures Great and Small", he even made us watch the television adaptation on PBS. It was like living with a modern day Davy Crockett, I think I knew how to fish before I learned how to swim thanks to my father. He chopped wood, ran a chainsaw, fished, and was an all around outdoors man. He once built a shanty out of plank wood in our backyard that stood for over a decade. Unfortunately not much of his woodland skills rubbed off on me.

My father was our coach for most of our baseball/ softball careers. He learned the sport right along with us just so he could be involved in our lives. My dad was a soccer guy who never really liked baseball, but for his kids he toughed it out and became one of the greatest coaches my hometown ever saw. He went from knowing zero about the sport to becoming a guru. People from all over sought his advice on how to teach "windmill" pitching for softball. He would read for hours, attend clinics, get dirty himself all to learn the sport better, it was amazing to watch.  While most men his age were putting in overtime, or watching the game on television, my dad was living it.

I believe I learned a great deal more from my dad then I ever knew. He taught me so much in a short time frame, I just wish I had realized it earlier in life. My dad and I barely talked for most of my grown up life, partly my fault, some of it his. He died January 11th 2006 from bone cancer. We never made up for whatever reason, call it stubbornness, but I never stopped loving him. He was a great man who was loving yet firm. He always seemed to have an air of confidence that left him without fear. He mentored a lot of kids in my hometown probably without them even realizing it. I realize now at age forty-two he mentored me more than I ever knew. I thank you dad for being you, never giving in to convention and always being yourself no matter where you were, I love you and miss you and only wish to say I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you and the family. I just pray one great day, God willing, you and I will stand side by side as friends for all eternity.

He Shoots, He Scores!!!!!!!

To those of us who understand the sport Hockey is a treasure. It's an endeavor steeped richly in tradition. Men become heroes and heroes become legends. Names like Howe, Gretzky, Richard, and Orr ring through it's hallowed halls like a beautiful symphony greater than anything ever written by a single composer. We cheer at the exploits of brave men who play a sport that combines the grace of ice skating, the thunder of American Football, and the pugilistic science of boxing, it's the perfect storm. It's fast and furious without having to watch men huddle up and kill the clock. Hockey's clock runs for a fast sixty minutes only breaking for any length of time to recap each period. Most of it's detractors bemoan the fact that it's too fast and they can't track the puck. With a little education and a better understanding anyone can be a hockey fan able to follow the little black disc.

Most people don't realize that American Football is slow and filled with very little action. Studies have shown that on average a football game features only twenty-six minutes of contact. Hockey on the other hand is pure action from the puck drop to start the game all the way to the final horn. Hockey doesn't huddle, run slow down offences, or call many time outs to stop the clock. To the point, in a hockey game each team gets only one time out to use as they see fit. Hockey teams must have a flexible strategic plan because the lines roll non stop as the game flows. Players have to be quick because there is no "play clock" to replace tired players or get the perfect match ups teams want.  Coaches roll four lines seamlessly throughout the game trying to create mismatches to improve their chances of scoring. Unlike football's stop and go plodding pace, hockey is a whirling dervish of  kinetic energy from start to finish.

Hockey has been around since 1917 and it's original six era started in 1942, that's when it really started to blossom. Hockey now has 30 teams spread across America, including places like Phoenix that have never seen ice, and Canada. Each team plays  82 games a year during the regular season. It's a long season that grows longer if you make the playoffs, then you may play another three rounds of four to seven games before you get to vie for Lord Stanley's Cup. It's grueling and unforgiving which makes it unpredictable, unlike most football and baseball seasons. Hockey is a sport where work ethic is demanded not expected. No one in hockey "takes plays off" because if you do you may end up carried off on a stretcher. These guys fly around the ice at twenty plus miles an hour and can weight up to two hundred and twenty five pounds, you do the math on contact force. It's a sport where whining is not an option, I've watched guys spit teeth on the ice get up, go to the bench, pull out the other loose teeth and climb over the boards for their next shift. I can't imagine someone like T.O. doing that, not in a million years.

So if you're bored with sports that promote prima-donna millionaire brats and long for an exciting fast paced "hardhat and lunch pail" thrill ride, I suggest you take in a live hockey game. You'll be hooked for life. If you aren't able to see a live game, as most hockey seasons have ended, tune into the NHL Stanley Cup Finals on NBC starting Wednesday June first as two of hockey's best fight it out for one of sports biggest prizes, The Stanley Cup. I'm sure you'll be amazed at how cool this game really is. Pun intended. Thanks for reading and God Bless.

I Light Fires!!!!!

Summer has a rhythm all it's own. The sky's are bluer and the air is filled with the scent of new life. It's a time to celebrate the passing of the gloomy demeanor known as winter. No longer are we locked away in our domiciles hiding from the cold and blustery season. We are free to roam the wild yonder under the sun's yellowy-orange warmth. We are released from the doldrums of  the grey season and awakened to play in the lush vibrant radiance of newness. We are reborn. We once again feel the energy of our childhoods rushing back to us. Many feel the primal call of the wild and choose to live within the wide open frontier, if only for a few days. We feel the need to return to our roots and become one with nature as a means to escape the rat race around us. We yearn for the quiet simplicity of a by-gone era before the great expansion of machinery and technology stole our souls.

The simplest of escapes, cooking over an open fire. Nothing beats that. The roar of the flames, the smell of the searing flesh, it's as old as man himself. Nothing beats the unmistakable taste of a steak seared to juicy perfection over an open flame. It's like tasting food for the first time all over again. A man will stand at his grill all day flame-broiling proteins for mass consumption just to taste that smoky sweet flavor. For most of us, it's a compulsion, an unconscious desire that as soon as the sun shines and it gets warm, we must grill. I've even been known to stand outside in zero degree weather buried by snow grilling, I may have an addiction.

The grill is a magnificent tool. For some it's like an appendage, to others a complete mystery. Grilling can be made more complicated by bright shiny gas grills or worse, the dual grill. It's a hybrid of technology that gives you the choice to cook with either gas or charcoal. Honestly gas is fine but it leaves a strange taste on your product. I use charcoal, plain old charcoal in a kettle grill. No fast light stuff for me because like gas it too has a funky aftertaste. I also light my charcoal with newspaper soaked in vegetable oil instead of  lighter fluid. The propellant can leave a strange smell and flavor on your food.  With the vegetable oil it burns slower and lights the coal and wood chips more evenly without the gassy smell and taste. Squirt a little veggie oil on the black nuggets and wood chips as well, it will help you regulate the heat more.

So I say unto you my fellow grill geeks stay true to the ancient ways and you will find a better tasting, more flavorful piece of protein. From bovine to the kingly pig, all things are better over the naked flame. Grab your friends, relatives, or neighbors and get together to celebrate our ancient heritage and cook a hearty meal over natures greatest cooking instrument, the glorious open flame. Enjoy and God Bless!!!