License to Ill

 This October will mark eight years since the passing of my father. For those that knew him, he was the life of the party and one of those personalities for which the rules just did not apply. If you ever had the pleasure of an unofficial garage session (which just by being unofficial made it, well, official) then you probably have a story or two to tell. 

My father had many awesome traits, loyal, generous, patience of a saint, just to name a few.  Always willing to take time out of his day to help someone out or show someone how to fix something.  The only payment would be time spent and a bump of Kesslers and a beer.

The more I thought about it the more I realized that I lost something else besides my father and best friend when he passed away. I lost my ability to charmingly pee wherever and whenever I wanted.  

If you must know, one of my father's most endearing qualities was to make urinating anywhere anytime seem normal and completely not out of the ordinary.  Truly a man with the "act like you are supposed to be here and no one will notice" ethos, my father was nothing less than a serial urinator.

I don't want you to think this was spurred on as some sort of creepy behavior.  This was  a skill that was cultivated out of a time where there were many shared beverages combined with an elevated age and most likely a prostate the size of a softball.

Not only did he have the superpower to make it seem normal, he also did it with such a charming nonchalance that also gave everyone else around him artistic license to mark their territory.

I have seen my father piss in parking lots, driveways, along highways, in bushes, between cars, next to porta-shitters, and for the most part I was probably standing next to him.

Even when "caught", he would almost always pull off his hat and with a guilt laden grin "I just had to go!". The judge, jury and executioner almost always turning frown to understanding smile.

Recently I have come to the realization that with the loss of my father and the addition of an amazing and understanding wife that I have let the serial uriniator gene wane just a touch. 

While it is true my knuckles no longer quite reach the ground and I am somehow walking a little more upright I can not help but feel that these are skills that will come back to me as I too reach an age of wisdom and acceptance.

The Grande Scheme of Things........

...So I may have forgotten that it takes all kinds.  That even with a common bond as Americans we all have differing opinions and come at things with a little different perspective.  

It seems that with times as the are and uncertainty unfolding right in front of us we find it increasingly hard to remember what to care about.

It doesn't matter to me if you think that this virus was released by China as a way to thin the herd, it doesn't matter to me if you think that this was a plot by the democrats to sway the election, it doesn't matter what conspiracy theory you subscribe to.  What matters to me is how we move forward.  

I sort of see both sides of the coin here but my perspective is changing.  I realize the math is on my side, but still.  I did ride a motorcycle without a helmet, I don't always wear a seat belt. While I will admit that the motorcycle thing was more about me not caring if I lived or died at that particular time in my life, the seat belt thing is more about cars and trucks not being built around someone that's larger than the average bear, but I'm working on that.

I will be the first to admit that I don't want to upset my life because of a menace I can't see.  The thought of wearing a mask to conduct daily business makes the inherent rule breaker in me cringe.  But as I have gotten older I have come to cherish the time spent walking upright a lot more than I used to.  Also, as much as I love a good adventure I am not looking to take a ride in a bed that flips my fat ass over every so often so I don't drown in my own mung. (I used the technical term mung strictly for my late mother's benefit) This leads me wondering why there are points of view contrary to self preservation.  

Wearing a mask is not cool, I get that.  If yours has to have a skull on it or make you look like your smoking a cigar or has some message of protest on it I get it.  I'm frustrated too. But this is unprecedented in my lifetime.  I have never been a part of anything like this, but I want to be there on the other side. I want to see where that leads us. I want Steak-O-Rama's again.  I want to be able to opine via mediums such as this and avenues yet explored.

There has to be some latitude.  I am not talking head in the sand, full blinders engaged, apathy, but maybe we could all agree that this situation is ever changing. Sure you could argue changing for the better, but hardly over.  Mistakes are going to be made.  People are going to make decisions that we are all not going to agree on.  Sure the mainstream news is twenty-five minutes of panic followed up by five minutes of feel good recovery stories. I don't think that in any story (even this one) you ever get the full truth.  We have all seen the school kids in line where the front of the line is told one thing and told to pass it to the person behind them.  By the time it reaches the last person it is about seventy percent of what was first conveyed. My point, the truth is somewhere in the middle.

In the name of your father.....

Its father's day...


For some of you it is about the donation of half.  For others, it is the day set aside to foster a relationship forged in a lifetime.

For me it is about reflection and letting go.  Really letting go of the grief and the the anger I harbor because my parents both passed away to soon.  Anger that they never got to meet my wonderful wife and her family.  I believe they would have meshed quite well.  Grief for the little things, the unannounced pit stop style pissings in my driveway.  The unsolicited yet somehow riveting deep philosophical discussions with my mother.  Questioning her faith, all the while testing it.  Way to immature to understand the difference.

I sometimes find myself locked in reflection, there were so many good times.  There were bad times, but they only reminded us how great the good times are.  

Without knowing it I was surrounded in faith.  I have lost mine of the last couple of years.  I can now see the value.  I am not just talking about your chosen religion I am talking about faith in yourself and faith in the ones that love you that comes along for the ride. 

To often we are hard on ourselves for lives little proclivities and the things that cause us anxiety.  I have learned to forgive myself,  I sometimes forget to do that.  But as faith in myself creeps back in it becomes more apparent.  Faith in ourselves and one another is the glue that holds everything near and dear together.  I forgot about that for a while.  

As I reflect back on my wonderful parents and the lives they created for my brother and I can see the importance of the faith my parents must've had for themselves and each other.  I need to give my self and my wife a little more credit.  My parents too for that matter.  They are after all the one's who paved the way.

So whatever your father's day situation I ask you to consider a little faith, wherever you find it.  Maybe it's right there in a hug, maybe it's just behind the forgiveness, maybe you are lucky enough to clank a glass together and break some bread, doesn't matter just seek out some faith.  It's there if you want it.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!  Enjoy your day.

Miked

Life in Marinade....Pronounced Quarantine

To be fair, I was only looking for something to watch this morning where I could "gork out" and do just a little hiding from the anxious times we live in.  There are certain movies I love because of the emotions they stir inside of me or maybe they remind me of a certain time in my life where I was dealing with similar situations.

Here I was on a lazy Sunday morning here in the heartland.  The wind was howling with a force not unlike the he said, she said banter between our current president and those who actually know whats gong on, almost hurricane force.  I was scanning the channels and came upon "The Family Stone".  For those that don't know this is a fabulous movie.  It is in my top 10-15.  It reminds my of Christmas and the passing of my mother. It is a tear jerker for sure.  This movie proved a little to serious for what I was looking for this morning.

Scanning and surfing and scanning and surfing forced my hand to Amazon Prime Video.  In perusing the latest offerings according to "my taste" in movies landed me on "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood".  What could be more innocuous or take less mental agility than Mr. Rogers? I could not have been more wrong.

Let me just start by saying that Tom Hanks is an American Treasure and this movie is fantastic.

I was not, even for one single second, emotionally prepared for what I was about to witness.  This movie was like a years worth of therapy in an hour and a half.  Moreover, Hanks' portrayal of Rogers as the ever patient, although not perfect, sounding board for dealing with the feelings of adolescents everywhere had me thinking of my father.  My father was the most genuinely patient man I have ever known.  There is a scene in the movie where Rogers is spending time with a young boy and his family as part of a Make-A-Wish campaign.  Although my father was always GDI (god damn independent) and never affiliated officially with any group, benevolent or not, he loved nothing more than helping those in need and if someone wanted to learn a skill my dad possessed, well there was just no better teacher, period.

The thing about life that no one wants to talk about is feelings.  How ironic, the one thing we all have in common and most are scared of revealing.  It took me a long time to realize the importance of feelings.  I spent the better part of my lifetime burying them and attempting to dodge them at all costs.  There was a wake of damage both to myself and others I came into contact with.

I have learned that the real power is in the vulnerability and the compassion, not in the exhaustive work that comes with avoidance and becoming a cold callus zombie.

I have said this before, as my super heroes continue to get hip replacements, knee replacements and heart procedures you realize we are all victims of the human condition. It just boils down to time spent. It is no longer about outdoing someone or feeding the ego. It is about enjoying the company you keep and love, and forgiving them for their misgivings. There are no directions here, get the help where you can. Be available in the here and now, this moment, you won't get a second chance.

Miked

Progress is Progress

Because of what I'm doing is so often thought of as weight loss I can see where the outsiders would say that I have not seen much progress.  To the uninitiated, most members of our society would say that is the only way, a diet, and while it is true a "diet plan" will cause you to lose weight but they are not maintainable. If they were, Oprah wouldn't be a billionaire owner in WW and Jenny Craig would've been out of business long ago.  If I may be critical of these two aforementioned systems, they are a business and if you believe for one second they care if you lose weight you are dead wrong.

For many of us, our weight gain (or loss if that's your thing) is the manifestation of other issues in your life.  Anxiety and stress set us off on a cycle of behavior that, in the moment, seem comforting and calming.  In reality this pattern of behavior becomes a mask for, or a distraction for, the pain we are really truly experiencing.  

My weight loss will be the by product of having started down a road of changing behaviors.  Behaviors that have been a part of me for most of my 47 years.  Undoing a history of bad decisions and habits has proved no easy task.  

Today I measure my progress not just in just pounds lost, but in living a much healthier lifestyle. While it is true I still have much more work to do I can look back and not have to be afraid of zucchini and I now know the things that trigger my unsavory behavior and I can me mindful not to fall into those cycles.

But it all takes time.  I can't undo all this in a day or a week or a month or two years.  It is a lifestyle change.  I am lucky because it is going to take me the rest of my life to get better. A little better every day.  

Please be kind to yourselves, do the work, take the time, don't give up.

Gratitude and Other Things Fulfilling

I just wanted to take some time and say thank you!  Thank you to everyone who has supported this endeavor that is THE Dunbridge Truckstop.  It is no surprise that this all started as a little tongue-in-cheek inside joke. While it is true that we are not exactly going to be the next Ralph Lauren or American Apparel we are able to support a few community events and fundraisers due in part to your continued support and generosity.  It has really helped make this fun and being able to give back even on this small scale is very good for the soul. I will forever be grateful to each and every one of you that has shown us some love over the years.  

We are unsure of where this is headed, however we are in for the long haul and can't wait to see what is around the next corner. Just know that with your support comes our support.  Just know we love each and every one of you and if you have a cause that needs support, maybe just maybe we can help.

The Management

 

On Being a Compassionate Asshole.

As someone, who at age forty-six, is just starting to come to terms with their self-esteem or even having one for that matter I had always prided myself as being a proper asshole.  Let that sink in, pride in being an asshole?  Because I didn't care about myself, because of the pain I was in I couldn't really be expected to care about anyone else either.  I would compound this pain by getting into volatile relationships or associating with like minded people in order to think that I was OK.  

I always thought my comfort was at the bottom of a Coke can or would be left for me to read as a secret message written in the pattern of pizza grease on the underside of a Myles pizza box.  Certainly Hershey kisses would never judge me no matter how many I ate.

Problems were solved with tools like the "well fuck you then" or the "then get the fuck out of here I don't need you" and other niceties that complete the cycle of self loathing. I always thought the colder the better.

The complete irony here is that I was living my life in a manner that was a complete 180 from how I was raised.  It's true, my all time favorite show was/is Little House on the Prairie.  Yep I said it, Little House.  Everything about this show aligned with the way I had been brought up,  Love, God, and hard work could allow you to accomplish anything.  It was what we were taught and it was certainly how my parents lived their lives.  

My first recollection of Little House was sitting in the modest living room of "Grandma Rocky" who lived behind us.  If ever there was a kinder woman on the planet, (lest my wife of course) I'll never know.  She too embodied the virtues of the Ingalls' and lived by compassion and the proverbial "turn the other cheek".

Here I was attempting to live so far outside of the values I held near and dear.  Looking back it was no wonder my life was so chaotic. 

Through lots of therapy, I have been able to realign my life with my values.  This has also meant that I have disassociated myself with those that were not a positive influence on me. My life is now way more meaningful and I find that I am motivated by personal growth and my own well being more than ever before.

What this means is always trying to take the high road.  Part of the dichotomy that my life once was, was struggling with hurting people I thought I was close to and always doing what is right.  I was both yin and yang. Classy and charming one minute and monster who wished nothing more than to project as much of my pain from me on to you.  Often for no other reason other than I thought that person was wronging me or not living inside the values I held.  That made me a ginormous asshole.

Here I am at age 46 a work in progress.  Twice in the last two weeks I have had someone from a former life resurface as no fault of their own.  One of these people I miss dearly and one not so much. I found myself instantly wanting to step right outside my values, just like old times and deal with these people with a "fuck you" diatribe that would have Josey Wales and William Munny blush.  I was searching for that instant gratification, I wanted them to feel the pain that I have associated with them. 

Then the best thing happened.

My wife, my life long friends and my new found self all said take the high road, turn the other cheek, do what's right, live within your values. While it is true I would have loved to have blown their hair back a little. It would not have helped me.  It may have even triggered a cycle of depressing and self loathing behavior.  It may have triggered me to live outside of the values I know that ground me in my full life.  I am grateful for them for reminding me that I know what is right and I know what is right for me.

In the words of Neil Young I now have a "kinder gentler machine gun hand" (mouth).

Miked