The Three Ages of Man

This is a topic I had considered writing about several weeks ago, prior to what could be termed my emotional meltdown. Somehow, with the onset of a new year and the reading I have been doing in the Conversations with God book series by Neale Donald Walsch, the time seems right to return to this notion and set down my thoughts.

First, let me say that I am not speaking of historical eras, such as the Industrial Age. No, the three ages of man that I am concerned with are internal components of each one of us. Those three ages are: emotional, intellectual, and physical. Together, the make up what could be termed our relative age.

In some respect, each of these ages are moving targets, and they are not always advancing upward, not even our physical age. For instance, how often have you heard someone say they feel like a kid again? Or, perhaps in the midst of an adrenaline rush, they are able to do something they had been unable to do for years.

For some of us, our physical age seems to advance exponentially rather than incrementally. I am 52, but there are days when I feel more like 72 due to occasional hip pain that extends into my knee. Stiffness in my back sometimes causes me to hobble around (at least until I am warmed up a bit) like someone much older.

With regard to intellectual age, how often have you said or heard someone else say "she's wise beyond her years" or "he has the mind of a child"? Then of course there is the child who is so brilliant mentally he or she is able to enter college at the age of 12 or 13. Physically and emotionally, this youngster is 12 or 13, but intellectually, he or she is 18 or 19 or even older.

Finally, there is the emotional age. Often, we hear about this age in a negative sense, such as when a parent admonishes a child for "acting like a two-year old." This age can also be impacted by trauma of some sort in the home, such as when a parent dies or when a child is excessively sheltered.

In my case, this is the age I have the most difficulty pinpointing. Because of my parent's divorce when I was five, followed by living in some fairly abusive relationships as a child accompanied by nearly complete withholding of human affection at times, my emotional age is nowhere near as advanced as my physical or intellectual age.

I often have trouble connecting with people or getting close to them for that matter. In fact, the closest friendship I currently have would likely have never developed if it had not been for e-mail. Face to face, I move much more slowly and defensively, to the point that most people don't take the time, and I don't blame them.

I also suspect that I can, at times, behave in a manner more befitting a 15-year old with a crush than a 52-year old adult. My emotional development has been stifled in some regards, so that it is sometimes difficult for me to know or to recognize when a line has been crossed and behavior begins to border on the inappropriate.

This is an issue I struggle with (as do many, I suspect) as I begin to get more accustomed to the simple idea of feeling and expressing feeling. The balance is not yet there, but with the help of friends, family, and professionals, it will come in time.

The Conversations with God books talk about the idea that there is really no such thing as time, that now is all there is. The implication in this is that each moment is made up of past, present, and future, and that they are in some ways interchangeable. When I think of the fluid nature of age when thought of in terms of the three ages I have discussed here, that whole notion seems to make much more sense.

Looking Forward to 2009

The new year is upon us, and what a year it promises to be. Global economic meltdown, war and unrest nearly everywhere you turn, in short, not much cause for celebration.

Yet that it what many people around the world did last night, and in my own quiet way, I was among them. On a macro scale, there may not be reason for optimism, but on a micro scale there is, for each new year brings another chance for renewal. This year, I intend to take it.

When I was younger and somewhat idealistic, I made New Year's resolutions, ten of them each year, systematically, right at midnight. As I got older and less idealistic, I stopped making resolutions because I found I was unable or unwilling to keep any of them.

This year, my 53rd on this planet, I have decided to make some resolutions again because I know in heart this year will not be like any other I have lived. For me, that will be a good thing.

The end of 2008 saw me begin therapy and begin a journey into myself. That journey will continue in 2009 as I work to tear down the inner walls that have kept me from achieving all that I am capable of, loving others more fully and more deeply, and truly being a part of the human condition.

I am lucky and blessed to have the love and support of a wonderful wife, Teresa, who has stuck by me through good and bad for 15 years. She has seen what was possible in me and waited patiently for me to see it too.

I am equally blessed to have the encouragement, support, and friendship of perhaps the best friend I have ever had. Heidi's encouragement and caring nature helped me to find the road back to myself and to begin the journey toward inner healing.

I am very lucky to have two truly special women in my life. For them and for the others who share a part of my journey, I want to make 2009 my year of change. I want to begin the work toward becoming the best me I can be. Toward that end, I have made six resolutions for the coming year:

1. To be more open.
   
   This is a somewhat open-ended resolution, and it is meant to be. I hope to become more open to my feelings, to new experiences, and to those around me. I will work to not close myself off from others and make myself distant and unapproachable.
   
   
2. To make new and more connections with others.
   
   I have had a number of wonderful people pass in and out of my life through the years, and I have managed to lose touch, lose connection with all of them. I am now fortunate to know some wonderful people, a few of whom I call friends, others whom I hope to be able to call friends in 2009. That will require me not closing off from others.
   
   
3. To release the writer inside me and to make the time to write.
   
   For years, I have always said I wanted to be a writer, but outside of a few spurts here and there I did not write. I spent more than a decade in broadcasting because it gave me a writing outlet, but I never pursued much writing beyond that. Lately, I have begun writing lyrics and poetry again. This blog is also an extension of my rediscovered desire to write. In 2009, I intend to continue this blog and to extend into short stories and perhaps other fiction.
   
   
4. To grow as a husband, as a father, and as a friend.
   
   These three areas represent my greatest shortcomings in the past, as I have not been all I could be in any of these areas. That will change in 2009, even as it began to change at the end of 2008. Teresa and Heidi have already given me opportunities to grow in two of those areas. My son will, no doubt, provide ample opportunity to grow in the remaining area.
   
   
5. To open the door to my life and to be the change I seek.
   
   This resolution comes out of reading the Conversations with God series of books by Neale Donald Walsch, which I highly recommend. One of the themes that runs through these books is the idea of believing you already have whatever it is you seek and you will find that you have it.
   
   
6. To take better care of myself and of the gifts I have been given.
   
   I have abilities I have never taken full advantage of or used to their fullest capability. 2009 is the year that starts to change. The care I speak of is three-fold: physical, mental, and emotional. I have begun the process toward taking better emotional care of myself, which will also help bring my mental side into better balance. As that occurs, I will then add in the physical component so that I can better enjoy the people and the things around me.

I hope 2009 also turns into a year of tremendous opportunity and growth for each of you.

Merry Christmas

The last gifts have been wrapped and put under the tree. My son and my wife have both gone to bed, and I sit here early on this Christmas morning and ponder what it is I truly want this year.

For most of the run up to this Christmas I have been dreading the day and its arrival. Now that it is here, however, I am at last ready for it. I am ready for the anticipation and the joy in my son's face when he opens a package to find something he asked for as well as the disappointment he will no doubt express when he doesn't get everything he asked for.

There will probably be a few packages under the tree with my name on them, but I have already received the best Christmas gifts I have ever been given - an opportunity for redemption, a chance to redeem my life and live it as it always should have been lived. Not in fear or guilt but in love and joy.

What made that gift possible was a possibly even greater gift - the gift of one person to another. One person who could easily have treated me with resentment and even hatred but instead showed kindness and compassion. She gave of herself and of her self. In the process, she pointed the way to my self and helped to set me on the road to wholeness.

Heidi, mere words of thanks do not seem adequate. You rose above your own cares to offer me encouragement and friendship. That gift is beyond measure. I truly believe you were sent by God to help me find my way out of the wilderness. For that, I will always be grateful.

My wish for everyone this Christmas and in the new year to come is that each of you will find such a friend. They are hard to come by, but when you do find such a friend you are truly rich beyond compare. This Christmas, I count myself amongst the richest men on Earth. I have a family that loves me and a friend who encourages me and allows me to be more than I have ever been. I am truly blessed.

Merry Christmas!

Two Steps Forward . . .

My first week of therapy is now behind me; today was my fourth session in just eight days. It has been quite a roller coaster ride already, and I feel as if I am enrolled in an intensive crash course designed to explore the psyche.

Oddly enough, I measure how good a session was not by whether I feel better afterward but by whether I cried during the session. Today I cried.

Monday I did not cry, and I viewed the session as a bit of a setback. My therapist (it still seems odd to me to use that phrase) said she sensed me teetering on the verge of closing off again from my feelings. I knew it as well. I was retreating back into myself.

But as my friend reminded me, we had discussed the probability that there would be times when these reversals would occur. And I had already concluded in my own mind that on any given day it did not matter whether I moved forward or backward as long as I kept moving and did not stand still. For to stand still is to stagnate and to stagnate is to die.

I think my biggest challenge in the early going is not to expect too much out of these sessions and also not to expect too little. I have always tended to do one of two things in my dealings with the world around me: set myself up for disappointment by creating impossible expectations or protect myself from disappointment by setting my expectations so low that I am willing to settle for nothing.

My expectations or at least my hopes started out high because I looked at this latest attempt at therapy (having tried a few times in my 20s) as a fight for my life. Not so much whether I live or die but whether I truly live or merely exist. I tempered those expectations by remembering how many years I have lived in pain, in fear, and in loneliness: hurt by the crimes against my youth, afraid of what I'll find inside me or what others won't, alone because I could not get close to others and could not seem to let others in.

As I have relayed some of the events of my youth and their effects on me to my therapist, the tears have flowed freely. But the telling and the crying take a lot of energy, so on Monday I pulled back a little. Whether to give myself a rest, to protect myself in my vulnerability, or for some other reason, I do not know.

What I do know is that today I cried again. The things I talked about, the feelings they stirred in me hurt deeply. But the tears felt good. I was hurt but I was alive. So today's was a good session.

Thoughts on Therapy

Yesterday, I began what promises to be a long journey toward better self-awareness, self understanding, and perhaps most importantly, self forgiveness and self love. I started therapy.

The first visit, an assessment, I was told, was painful and covered a lot of ground and a lot of feelings: feelings of abandonment, of failure, of hopelessness, even of dying. So much for small talk.

I have come to see this as my journey back to life, and I know it will not be an easy one. As my wife has said, there may be times when I take one step forward and two steps back. I know that and I think I am ready for it. As long as I keep moving, then the journey will continue. It is only in stopping that danger lies for it means I have retreated to the familiar, even comfortable status quo because it is pain I know.

It is said that without pain we cannot know joy. As I bring the pain of my youth and my adult life into the light and hold onto that in hopes I will one day know the joy.

A friend of mine sent me a picture of her and her boyfriend smiling and embracing life. They are my model for they have shown me what happiness looks like and what is truly possible. I hope one day to return a picture of me and my family smiling back at them. May it be so.

Random Thoughts

I've always had a hard time making friends. I suspect that is because I see a friend as someone more than a person to talk sports or politics or music with. To me, a friend has always been someone with whom you could share your deepest hopes and fears and dreams, even more than perhaps you can with your spouse.

I am at present lucky enough to have such a friend. How long the friendship will last, given the intensity of the things we sometimes talk about, I won't try to guess. She may decide the friendship needs to end in order to preserve her own sanity, and who could blame her? Certainly not I.

Tomorrow, I begin the journey of a lifetime as I begin what may be weeks, months, or more likely years of therapy to help me dig up and expose to the light issues that date back to my childhood. My friend has been a support and encouragement in this process that lead to my decision to seek help.

As I told her, for too long I have been treading water, and I am now starting to get tired. Therapy is my chance at a life preserver before I get too tired to grab it. While there are no guarantees in therapy, I am certain I am lost without it. I look at this as the fight of my life and for my life. My friend believes I can make it, and I am very appreciative of that belief in me.

For too long, my life has been nothing more than going through the motions. For some time to come, it will be a day by day process, but with the help and support of my family and of my dear friend, I can come out on the other side and one day walk in the light instead of hiding in the darkness.

Be well.

Slippin' Into Darkness

The title of the old War song seems appropriate these days, as that is what I feel is happening to my life.

I don't know how to explain it except that it feels a bit like walking in a fog with limited visibility. Each step must be planned and taken carefully lest you slip and completely lose your balance. That is my life at present.

I have been unable to explain to my wife or my son what is going on. I don't really know how. So we dance this uncomfortable dance of trying not to say or do the wrong thing, dancing to a tune none can hear.

Instead, I have burdened the one true friend I feel can understand these things to the point where if she were to tell me should could no longer be my friend I would understand and probably tell her she is doing the right thing. Assuming, of course, I could stop crying long enough to get the words out.

Crying has been one of the more interesting and frightening aspects of this descent. I have never been a very emotional person, always saying what I thought was the right thing but never really feeling anything. I had all but assumed I could not feel, I had buried things away for so long.

But in the last two weeks I have cried, more than I have in the last 20 years, I suspect. Two boxes of tissues in two days. If I'm not at rock bottom yet, I can see it from where I wallow.

And when I am not crying, I'm nearly comatose. I look in the mirror and I see the epitome of what they used to call Buster Keaton, "The Great Stone Face". Only sadder.

I am now in full-blown survival mode as I try to get from one day to the next until my first of what i suspect will be many sessions of professional help. To those who are standing by me, thank you. I'm sorry for what I have put you through. If God believes in me, perhaps things will one day be a little brighter. Until then, I struggle to find my way through the darkness and the shadows.

Happy Birthday to Me

Today is my 52nd birthday. With apologies to Charles Dickens, it is the best of birthdays; it is the worst of birthdays.

The best: I have a friend who has helped me try to reconnect with my inner self, which has been closed and shuttered for so long. I have a family that loves me. And I am lucky enough to have a decent job in these job economic times.

The worst: The realization that I am a self-destructive individual who tries to sabotage everything worthwhile in his life (including, I fear, said friendship) because of a deep-seated feeling that I do not deserve anything good in my life and a long held sense of worthlessness.

I am supposed to go out tonight with friends to celebrate my birthday, and I worry about which side I will show them. Will I be able to show them a happy side? Or, as I fear, will they see the way I feel: like a car dangerously close to being out of control whose brakes have already failed as a steep downhill approaches?

Right now, I have no clue. When I don't feel like crying I feel, in the words of Pink Floyd, "comfortably numb".

Because of that up and down, part of me feels there are better days ahead. Another part, however, senses that the worst is still to come. Then the fight truly begins. God give me strength.

A Birthday Gift

In two days, I mark my 52nd birthday. (Celebrate seems a bit too strong a word at the moment.) My wife has asked me what I want for my birthday, and I can think of no thing I need or desire, except that which is currently out of the financial realm of possibility. Plus, a motorhome would not fit easily into a box.

Actually, I have probably already received the best birthday gift I have ever been given - the gift of another person's friendship. Given the circumstances under which we met (as explained in an earlier post), it is surprising that we became friends. The speed at which we became friends is perhaps even more surprising.

Today, I got the news from my friend that she will be leaving the company for which we both work January 2 to take another, hopefully more lucrative job. It is sooner than I would hope for, although I certainly understand and support her reasons. Thankfully, it is a little later than I was afraid of. I believe we will remain friends, although the circumstances will change as I will no longer have the instant gratification of being able to pick up the phone and call her as we are both working. That may be a good thing, at least for her.

For several years in the 1990s, I was in the habit of throwing my own birthday party, cooking dinner for those who came, and giving them presents rather than receiving them. In the spirit of that somewhat short-lived tradition, I want to give a present to my newest and deepest friend. It has been some time since I tried my hand at poetry, so I hope it will not offend or come across as too cheesy.

Ode To A Friend

When inner darkness threatens to engulf

That which beats within me

You bring much needed sunlight

And shine it on my icy soul.

Your understanding countenance

Rekindles the fading spark inside

And breathes new fire into dying embers

Saved from myself again.

I am rescued from despair's dark depths.

Your kind thought, verbally caresses

Restoring in me the strength

To do battle once more and face the coming day.

You selflessly give the greatest gift,

Accepting me, warts and all, this unholy, ungodly mess

And show me my better, most possible self.

Whether Philia or Agape or some of both, I do not know.

You hold me tender in your thoughts and words

And I am washed clean by my tears

Raised up by your kindness

You honor me more than I deserve

This crowning achievement made possible

By a gentle heart I can never hope to repay.

My meager gift so sparse compared

To all that you have given

But I give it freely, gratefully, with thanks.

For what special tribute, far-reaching accolade

Do I wax so freely and without abandon?

No more and certainly no less than this -

You called me friend.

This badge of honor I most proudly wear

Today and all of my tomorrows

Until that which flows within runs to dust.

This gift you offer me I now offer back

and call you friend.

To be so much and nothing else, it is enough.

For I am rich beyond compare.

Happy birthday to me.

The True $pirit of Chri$tma$

The temporary insanity know as the Christmas shopping season is upon us. The day known as Black Friday in the retail world came and went with better than expected sales and just one minor disruption: a man's death.

A temporary worker at a Long Island Wal-Mart was trampled to death, not because he refused to honor a rain check or a competitor's ad but because he could not open the store's doors and get out of the way fast enough to avoid dozens of crazed shoppers trying to be the first ones to save 25-percent on next year's "Oh, I forgot we even had this" item.

Wal-Mart will rightly come in for its share of criticism and condemnation for not anticipating and properly preparing for this type of situation . Based on the events of the last several Christmas shopping seasons, any responsible retailer could have foreseen that it was only a matter of time before someone was killed.

In fact, several other retailers, such as best Buy, did foresee this possibility and were prepared appropriately. Wal-Mart, however, rolled back common sense when they rolled back prices for the start of the shopping season.

But the blame is not Wal-Mart's alone. We as consumers are as much to blame. Our need to always have the latest and greatest whatchamacallit fuels these shopping frenzies and increases the likelihood each year that such tragedies can occur until this year one finally did.

For a number of years it has been all over but the shouting. Now it is official. We have truly lost the meaning and perhaps as importantly the spirit of Christmas. The holiday is at last best marked with "Merry Xmas" rather than "Merry Christmas".

Christmas, of course, began as a day to mark and celebrate the birth of Christ. But even atheists celebrated the season as one in which to promote peace on earth and goodwill toward humanity. The Christmas season was a time when we each stopped to reflect on our better sides and on our hopes for a better world.

Now, all of that seems gone. A man has died. Unlike the first Christmas-related fatality two-thousand years ago, this death will not be followed by a resurrection.

Being Lonely versus Being Alone

I sit here typing in the middle of a deserted campground - deserted save for me, my wife, and my son - the three of us in our tent trailer, the only inhabitants of this state park campground. As I sit and type, I realize I am lonely.

I was often lonely when I was single, so I always equated the feeling of loneliness with being alone. Yet I am not alone here. Still, I feel lonely. A sense of melancholy hangs over me as I realize how little I fit in with those around me even when there is no one around me. This feeling was eased a little when a couple other campers set up in this campground, but it did not go away entirely.

For instance, what does it say about me when the person I see as my best friend, the person with whom I feel the greatest sense of connection in the outside world is someone who lives more than 300 miles away in another state and is someone I may never actually see again? Whatever it says, I can't imagine it is all that good.

When I was single, I always had the excuse of being alone to explain my loneliness. There was some comfort in that because it created the sense that I could end my loneliness simply by being around other people.

That is how I have always dealt with that loneliness - by putting myself in a setting where I could surround myself with others. Yet I never really made a connection with any of them or them with me. I was still lonely, and I still felt alone.

I managed to escape that feeling or at least delude myself that I had escaped it after my marriage. I was busy enough trying to be a decent husband and later a decent father that I rarely had time to feel lonely or alone.

Lately, though, that has changed. I changed jobs and have yet to make any friends in my new position aside from the aforementioned friend in another state. Part of that is the new workplace itself. Everyone is usually very busy, and that makes it hard to make a connection. The other part of it is somewhat geographical. I sit all but alone in my area of the department. The nearest people to me are almost all managers.

The third part of it is something lacking in me. I am not by nature an extremely warm or outgoing person. As a result, people do not tend to gravitate to me. At times, I suspect I come off as cold or aloof.

At other times, I may come across as too needy because I do recognize this giant hole in my life. For whatever reason, there are times when my wife and son are unable to fill this gap. Because of that, I think I end up distancing myself from them and making my problem worse.

Some might label this depression, and perhaps they are right. Perhaps it is the feeling of growing old and not having accomplished anything I thought I would. Or perhaps it is simply the onset of the holiday season and realizing that again this year we will not see friends or family over Thanksgiving or Christmas. Perhaps it is all of the above.

After all of that, perhaps there is no real difference between feeling lonely and feeling alone, merely scale. (The physicality of being alone is another matter.) And right now, the scale tips way out of balance.

Giving Thanks

It is that time of year once again when young and old alike gorge themselves on a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, whether it be turkey or ham (in our case, turkey), with all the trimmings. Then, they'll collapse on the sofa to watch the traditional Thanksgiving football blowout and watch a bunch of other overstuffed men run around and get exercise for them.

Despite recent economic events, we are lucky to live in a country where so many of us have reason to be thankful. I invite you to take some time on Thanksgiving to make a mental list of those things for which you are thankful and then give silent thanks for each of them. Here's my list:

I am thankful for my family, first and foremost. They ground me and give me sanctuary from the emotional storms in which I sometimes find myself.

I am thankful that I live in an area that lends itself to outdoor activity and that I have the ability and desire to enjoy such activity, whether it be camping, bike riding, or snowshoeing. In fact, we will be camping over Thanksgiving.

I am thankful for new friends, old friends, and lost friends. Each has been an important part of my journey. I remember lost friends fondly even as I mourn their loss. I cherish the people who are part of my life now and hope they will remain a part of my life for years to come. I relish the new friends I have made or will make and pray I will not abuse or squander the gift they have given me.

Yet I know that there are also those who will struggle to find something this Thanksgiving for which they are thankful. I hope you will join me in saying a kind word or in thinking a good thought for them as you sit down to your holiday meal this year.

May you find plenty for which to be thankful this year. May you have even more for which to be thankful in the year to come. Happy Thanksgiving.

Requiem For A Friend

I cried for a friend last night. Those tears did not come because I had received news that some tragedy occurred. In a sense, my tears were tears of anticipated grief. First, some history.

This friend and I are co-workers, separated by some 340 miles. The circumstances of our friendship are potentially the stuff of soap operas. You see, in essence, I was hired to take her place with her in the awkward role of training her replacement. I had, just a little earlier, escaped a similar fate when my previous position was outsourced.

She had every right to be angry, bitter, resentful, insert your adjective here. But she was none of those things. Instead, she was kind, helpful, supportive, and encouraging. Her demeanor was everything you would want from a trainer.

Her position had been moved here as part of a consolidation, and because she had a life where she lived, she was understandably reluctant to move. I had been in a similar type of position years earlier, and having to move is not fun, so I sympathized.

In fact, I felt guilty for, in essence, taking her job, not because of anything she said or did but because of everything she said or did. I began to feel as if a cruel trick had been played on her. Through it all, she remained supportive and helpful, and a mutual respect developed.

My training required her to make visits to my location, so we did meet twice. Both visits were friendly, and we developed a comfort level around each other. But a friendship had not yet begun to develop.

That began to occur, I think, after she returned to her home. As the new kid on the block, I had questions about the work, and I would ask them: over the phone, through instant messaging, via e-mail. After a while, we began to talk about other things: politics, music, feelings, life.

The odd thing about our budding friendship is that, for the most part, it has developed through e-mail. Perhaps that isn't such a surprise given the electronic age in which we live. In some ways, it is the 21st Century equivalent of having a pen pal.

In some sense, that may make it easier to sustain the friendship when she and I no longer have work as a common footing. Yet the same thing that may make it easier to keep the friendship alive may also make it easy to let it die. One day, one of us may decide to no longer answer the e-mail of the other. I certainly don't intend to let that happen, but who can say with certainty what the future holds. Something could happen to one or the other of us, and the remaining friend may be completely in the dark.

This sounds fatalistic, I know, but it is based on my past attempts to sustain relationships long distance. Life tends to get in the way. In my past career in journalism, I lost every friend I had because of moving to a new job in a new city. Because I make friends with great difficulty, each loss was very painful. To this day, I remember each of them with a mixture of good and bad feelings.

Yet I persisted, and I will continue to persist. I do not meet people easily, but I know I need them in my life. I hope this friendship lasts. I want it to last. It may not, but I will enjoy each moment of it while I do have it.

I am not a wise man, but I have finally learned one thing in my time here. The one thing worse than losing a friend is never having had the friend to begin with. Here's to you, my friend.

Cell Phones & Bathrooms: A "Sound" Combination?

A few months ago, the group I work with moved into a new building. Right away, I noticed something that struck me as being somewhat odd. Almost every time I would walk into the restroom, I would encounter someone carrying on a business conversation on the cell phone - right there in the bathroom.

Many times, they would be pacing across the floor. It was almost as if there were waiting to enter a bathroom stall and thought to themselves "Well, I might as well call back this client while I'm waiting."

Now, I know there are many people who like to sing in the shower because of the acoustics. In fact, I'm one of them. Rumor has it that several well known songs were recorded in a bathroom for that very reason.

Yes, the acoustical qualities of a bathroom can make even a somewhat mediocre singer sound better. But do business calls sound better, more authoritative, more informed because one end of the conversation takes place in the men's room?

Perhaps it's a consequence of our always connected society. Even some hourly workers keep cell phones with them at all times, for fear of missing out on something. Or perhaps it's to show how popular they are. Not having a cell phone myself, I'm not sure of the reasoning.

Then again, maybe it is an extension of our growing need to be able to multitask. (That's all the picture I am going to draw for you; you will need to do the rest.) So many employment ads list the ability to multitask as either a desired charactistic of the successful applicant or an outright requirement.

Fine. But couldn't that ability to multitask be demonstrated in a more classy manner? Say, something like putting on makeup and driving at the same time? Sorry, I can't answer that. I have to go to the bathroom and take an important call.

The Search for Fleeting Moments of Happiness

Of late, I have come to the conclusion that life is a somewhat mundane event, punctuated on occasion by what I call "fleeting moments of happiness." The number of these "fleeting moments" is what leads a person to decide whether his or her life is a happy one.

Such moments can range from the religious, such as First Communion or Bar Mitzvah (did you know there is a web site to help one plan a successful Bar Mitzvah?), to the emotional and possibly physical, such as a first date, a marriage, or the birth of a child. These punctuation marks in a life are what is remembered when that life ends.

I have also come to believe that successful people have more such "fleeting moments" than those who are not successful and are, in fact, capable of creating their own such moments. Such success can take many forms: abundant wealth, freedom to pursue and fulfill one's desires, a happy marriage. The list can go on.

Those fleeting moments are further punctuated by brief flashes: A memorable sunrise or sunset, a spectacular view, perhaps a wedding anniversary or a promotion at work.

The past few days have been a bit rough and have led me to search for my own "fleeting moments of happiness," to list them and consider the balance sheet. The list is not that long and contains nothing from my childhood.

There was the day I was baptized at the age of 28. A year later, I started building my own house through the sweat equity program of the Federal housing Authority (and lost the same house a few months later when I lost my job). There was the day I got married and the day a few years later when my son was born.

There have been a few memorable camping trips, including a visit to Redwoods National Park, which perhaps left feeling as close to God as I have in the last 20 years. Still, those moments seem fleeting indeed.

Thinking about such things led me to ask a philosophical question: Why are some people happy and others not? What can parents who come from an unhappy childhood do to ensure that there own children grow up somewhat happy? For that matter, what can adults who come from unhappy childhoods do to make their adult lives happier, and at what point does it become too late?

As I write this, another question occurs to me. If the world is constantly trying to achieve a state of equilibrium, then doesn't every happy person have to be balanced by an equally unhappy person? The way I feel some days, there must be one ecstatic person somewhere in this world. You're welcome.

A Fresh Start

For several months now, I have left this blog to languish, forgotten in the recesses of my disjointed mind. Now that the election is over and, as President-Elect Obama said "Change has come," I felt perhaps it was time to revisit this blog. In the spirit of the new President's message, change is coming to this blog.

Or should I say change is what came to this blog before now. My original intent for this blog was to provide a literal outlet for my mental meanderings. However, the heat of the summer's Presidential primaries led me to focus almost solely on politics. Now that the election is over, I can refocus or perhaps unfocus and return to my original intentions.

And so, I return intent on making this blog what I always wanted it to be: the random thoughts of a somewhat random man. In the coming weeks and months, I hope to write about the things that strike me as odd, contradictory, funny, perplexing, even confusing. In doing so, I will try to make this blog live up to the title I have given it and perhaps one person, after reading something I have written, will scratch his or her head and ask "Where the heck did that come from?" The blog title will then say it all.

Random Thoughts

My apologies for not having posted in the last few weeks. Allergies have been kicking my butt, not to mention the demands and needs of everyday life as well as the need and desire to get out camping again. Now on to some capsule thoughts.

Half a solution better than none? The Democrats' rules committee has decided how Florida and Michigan should be resolved: seat all of the delegates and give each one half a vote. How's that for half a solution? Hillary wins a moral victory, and Barack keeps most of his lead in delegates. Personally, I think the party should have stuck to its guns and kept the delegations out for breaking the rules. There were ways for moving up the primaries according to the rules, and neither state used them.

Obama leaves church. Barack Obama has decided to leave the church he has called his spiritual home for the past 20 years. Having left a church or two in my time, I know how hard a decision this can be. I also thought he made the right decision in choosing to leave while also showing his integrity and loyalty by resisting the earlier calls for him to leave.

To pod or not to pod. I've been reading a lot of late about podcasting and debating whether to try my hand at it. I'm intrigued by it, and it seems a way to get back to broadcasting of a sort, a field I worked in for a time many moons ago. The questions for me are: what type of podcast to do (I have several ideas), where to host it (also several ideas), and do I have the discipline and the passion to do this? For me, that is probably the biggest question.

My problem is that I am interested in a great many things, but I tend to drift from interest to interest, never staying focused for any length of time. That was part of the reason for the name of this blog; I thought I would be roaming from subject to subject more than I have thus far. Perhaps once the election is over.

One last random thought: if you are a father, as I am, a Happy Father's Day on June 15. If you have a father, pay him a visit. If your father is deceased, remember the good things about him. None of us is perfect, and most of us try to do the best we can whenever we can.

Edwards Speaks, Will Anyone Listen?

Former Democratic Presidential candidate John Edwards has finally come down off the fence. (It must have hurt sitting up there for so long. I hope there weren't too many splinters.) Edwards today did what many thought he would do if he ever decided to endorse a candidate. He announced his support for Barack Obama.

Several weeks ago, such an endorsement probably would have meant something. Now, though, who know whether it really means anything at all. It almost smacks of posturing and has me at least wondering, John, why did it take you so long? I can't be the only one wondering.

John, could you not see that Barack Obama's campaign offers at least the hope of change while Hillary Clinton's campaign smells like more of the same smoke-filled, backroom deals that have given politics a bad name? It seems to me the choice would have been an easy one to make. Or was it simply the desire to be or at least feel like a kingmaker that created the delay? Who knows?

What does seem clear is that, at this late stage of the campaign, John Edwards' annointing of Barack Obama as the best choice and hope for the Democratic Party in 2008 will likely have little effect on the vote in the remaining primaries. Where it could and should have an impact is in terms of Democratic super delegates and their decisions of whom to support. The trickle of super delegates moving to Obama has turned into a steady stream and could soon become a flood.

With the weight of such a party power as John Edwards now behind Obama, the rest of the party leadership should have less trouble now telling Hillary Clinton it's time to call her driver and have him take her home.

The Democratic Divide

Tomorrow is primary election day in Indiana and North Carolina. A number of the pundits forecast a split, with Hillary Clinton winning Indiana and Barack Obama taking North Carolina. Me, I hope against hope for an Obama sweep.

There are a couple of reasons for this. First, I am an Obama supporter and have been since the number of candidates dwindled to two (perhaps even before that). Second, regardless of the bright face the Democratic Party leadership paints on this drawn-out race, the increasingly bitter contest between Clinton and Obama is anything but good for the party. It is great fodder for conservative talk radio and the mainstream media, but as far as adding anything of substance to the political canvas, this battle has all the appeal of an episode of Jerry Springer.

The party says this battle has brought new voters into the process and has reinvigorated the political process. They are right - to a point. And that point has been passed. As this race becomes increasingly bitter, increasingly nasty, those same new and excited voters are in danger of becoming disgusted and appalled at the notion that a candidate of ideals and a candidate of change, as many have perceived Barack Obama to be, cannot succeed against a political machine that attempts to appeal to the lowest common denominator and it willing to use any tactic, any trick to win and, if necessary, steal the nomination.

Where Barack Obama has shown himself to be a man of ideals, loyal to the party rules but willing to say the unpopular thing because it needs to be said, Hillary Clinton has shown herself to be an opportunist, loyal only to herself and willing to say whatever she thinks will attract votes. Millions of Americans have already seen through this and have given Obama a lead in pledged delegates. Hopefully, a majority of voters in both Indiana and North Carolina will do likewise on Tuesday and send the message to Hillary Clinton that it is time for her to end her campaign - while the Democrats can still win the White House.

Wright Message, Wrong Words?

I just got the chance to watch the Bill Moyers Journal program featuring Rev. Jeremiah Wright, and I have to say it was very interesting. Wright certainly did not come off looking or sounding like the fanatic he has been made out to be by the mainstream press and one Sen. Hillary Clinton.

Speaking as a middle-aged white man, I have to say that Wright made some very valid points regarding the treatment of minorities in this country, both in the Moyers interview and in the extended sermon clips that were aired on that program. His unfortunate choice of words does not diminish the validity of his message.

He is also correct when he notes that the victors are the ones who write the histories. As a result, we are able to emphasize the Nazi atrocities committed against the Jewish during World War II because the Nazis lost the war while downplaying our own actions in this country against Native Americans in the 19th Century because we won.

I have always thought that we needed to look at ourselves and our actions before we condemn others. I do not say we should not speak out against oppression, but we should not do so from a position of moral superiority as a self-appointed arbiter of right and wrong. Instead, we should speak from a position of humility, pointing out these things while also recognizing our own shortcomings in such areas. The idea is one of helping others to learn from our mistakes and missteps.

Leading from a position of power ultimately brings resentment, even hatred. Leading from a position of humility should ultimately bring understanding and respect. I know which I would prefer if it were my country being led.