Thanksgiving

  Is this blog really going to fall into the cliché of the season? Am I going to wax eloquently about the need to give thanks? Perhaps a specific list of all the things I am grateful for? How about a rewrite of history explaining how my ancestors messed everything up? Maybe a dissertation on the finer points of turkey carving?!

  For explanations of all that, look elsewhere. All those are fun topics and I love writing on them. But I don't feel like going over territory already conquered. I feel like shattering the rules, going against the mainstream, being a rebel!

  How exactly does one rebel at Thanksgiving?

  Unfortunately I have no idea how. I have a pent up explosive streak that wants an outlet. Mayhem and chaos are my virtues. I don't want to hurt anyone, but I don't want to be mundane.

  So that is my quest. To find a place to vent. A place to cut loose and rock out. Hey yeah....Maybe a concert! Some strum bum thrashing out some good licks! Booyah! Now we are talking!

  Whatever this Thanksgiving has in store for you, I hope its great. We have an incredible freedom and flexibility to celebrate just how we choose. Make provisions for others to feel comfortable and then have a great time!

Solitude

  Solitude is healthier than isolation. Well, that's what they tell me. If one wants to comfort ones self by finding non-dysfunctional words to describe unhealthy behaviors, knock yourself out! But seriously, there are times of solitude that I find refreshing. These moments are sometimes quick and sometimes lengthy, but I cherish those moments.

  Most evenings, when I return to my truck after visiting my mom, the lot at my work is sparse of humans. Occasionally I will find someone in the truckers lounge or see a light on in a truck while someone is reading or watching a show. But most of the time the place is empty.

  I park my car in the back lot. Perhaps two hundred cars are back there. I weave my way thru the cars and walk out next to the shop. Then I encounter the trucks. Sometimes fifty, mostly more. The landscape is dotted with the trucks and trailers. Its dark. In winter there is usually fog. Often its windy. I feel small and insignificant against the backdrop of this huge lot with these trucks. I pause and smile. I ponder.

  Its a healthy pondering. I'm not sad to be alone, nor craving escape from people. I just enjoy the moment and contemplate life. I listen to a distant truck idling and smile, thinking about the warmth I will find when I start up my own rig.

  Out on harbor island, in the Puget sound, I spend some evenings. I park out there when I have a delivery at the port area in the morning. The whole island is empty and quiet. I can walk down by the water and watch Seattle across the bay, seeing all the bustling cars and the lit up buildings. I don't think any of them are looking at my island, pondering if there is a guy over there in solitude.

  I greatly enjoy those moments. Sure, sometimes they side-swipe me mentally and highjack my emotions, but most of the time it is peaceful. Its a great time to think about life. I guess you could say I am meditating amongst the machinery. Maybe that's why I can't be real specific about what I am thinking on these occasions, I am relaxing and meditating.

  Its great to live without escaping. To soak up the moments and let life just pause. I chuckle a little just now because what I am writing sounds like it could be written about the mountains or a lake. I like those too. Sometimes I park near a lake or on a mountain top just so I can experience that kind of solitude. But the solitude among industry is especially significant. Its my one man protest against the isolation this modern world can create.

My Mom

  Happy birthday Mom.

  If you are reading this, then you likely know her. You certainly would know about her compassionate heart, her incredible intellect, and her stunning beauty.

  Her compassionate heart has lifted me thru many troubling days. I remember once that I had skinned my knees. She directed me towards the bathroom and proceeded to wash out my wounds. Trouble is, we only had rubbing alcohol. Yowza! It hurt, but she tried, and that's what really counts.

  She upset lots of people in school by wrecking the curve. She excells in anything she wants to excel in. I have never know her to be snooty about her education. She is bright, humble, and overwhelmingly talented.

  She struggles to think of herself as beautiful. But I see the way dudes look at her. She can get all dolled up and go men-bowling. Set em up and knock em down!

  She has a special place in my heart today. We have spent countless hours chattering about life. I completely enjoy every blessed moment I get to be around her.

  In some of the darkest times in my life she reached out to me. We can speak openly about the tough stuff. We laugh and cry together.

  She chose to move to Spokane and I have been especially blessed. Before she moved here I would visit her while in California. Amazingly, my job allowed me to visit almost every week. When work isolated me to just the northwest, it happened to be just before she was planning on moving up. Now I still see her once a week. Sometimes more!

  If you were to peruse the bible and seek out what a godly woman looks like, pay close attention, she is my mom. God created a princess and made her my mom.

  Thank you mom for loving me. Thank you for knowing how messed up I am, and yet still believing in me. I hope you have a great birthday. The world is much brighter because of you.

  I love you

Judgemental

  I have come to accept that there are some hideously dark thoughts that I have. My tendency towards evil was brought to light just over three years ago. The revelation of my darkness created a chasm between me and some that I love. Some that I don't love too.

  There is a story in the Bible about Hosea. He was a prophet dude who was told to marry a harlet. She ran away from him many times to be with her lovers. After many years of this, she was worn out and her last lover sold her at auction. Hosea went and bought her back. I could almost feel his pain when he proclaimed that they could now be a family. The story draws to a close with us never finding out if his ransom truly redeemed her.

  There is an incredible video that is a modern day rendering of Hosea. Its called "The Hosea Love Story". No words are even spoken. If you didn't know the back story you wouldn't even know it was a Bible story. I hope you watch it. Its in the context of this video that I will write about next. Be sure and watch all the parts.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyWWXSwtPP0&feature=youtube_gdata_player

  My story is one of utter change. Not only in my actions but in my thoughts. Yet every once in a while a thought flashes across my mind and I am stunned at the darkness.

  As you may know, if you read this blog much, I am cagey about the specifics of my flaws. I feel that I would further hurt the people I hurt by writing publicly about the specifics. Its their story to tell not mine.

  That being said, I can tell you about my distant past and my current dark thought.

  I was very sexually active in my teenage years. It became a game to sleep with others. My exploits hurt many. To others it was just silly fun. Nevertheless, I became a dirtball and I kinda enjoyed it. That is the backdrop of my dark thought.

  Currently my wife is leaving me. I shared with my mom how I was worried that she might go and find another. Worse yet, she might find someone else who will hurt her.

  "What if she finds someone else? What if God asks me to wait for her? I hope she doesn't come back dirty."

  Yep.

  I know.

  That's what I said.

  King filthy over here is worried about his wife getting dirty.

  I am trapped in a vicious cycle. I deeply desire forgiveness and grace. I proclaim redemption and restoration. I champion the future and live with the past.

  But I also don't like thinking about forgiving others who have hurt me. They hurt me dammit! I have rights! How dare you do that to me!

  When I told my mom my thought she did a funny laugh and "whoa" all at the same time. Sort of a, "Well look at who thinks he is something now", laugh.

  Oh how quickly I fall back into the camp of people who judge others unrightly. I want to be a living sacrifice. Like someone said, "The trouble with living sacrifices is, they keep crawling off the altar".

  I wish I had never heard the story of Hosea. That video devastated me. I completely break down when he hugs her at the end. I don't really know if I am capable of such things. Yet I hope others are.

 

 

Bathrooms

  Some things you don't have to be taught. Take the first time you saw a toilet seat cover, nobody had to tell you what it was for. It seemed natural that there should be one. In fact now going to the bathroom in a place that doesn't have them almost seems barbaric. This isn't a blog about those blessed butt gaskets, its about some bathroom experiences.

  We had rented an small boat and went cruising around Big Bear Lake. The day was nice, the water was calm, and Jodi had an urge to go. I knew of these floating bathrooms at the far end of the lake so we motored over to them. A few minutes later she emerged a little distraught. Seems there was no gaskets. Worse yet, the seats were spring loaded to stay up, (Guess guys use them the most). She was trying to fabricate her own cover out of toilet paper but the seat would just fling it off! She had to hold the seats down to make it work. Horrible, just horrible.

  My brother in-law would use his shoe to flush the toilets he used. Just lift your foot and press. He really freaked me out! What about the poor next guy who went to flush? It would be like wiping your hands on the bathroom floor! I mentioned this to my brother in-law. He made me to observe how he had no idea what the last guy had done and was thus protecting himself. Genius!

  I regularly use truck stop restrooms. The big chain ones do a superb job keeping them clean. Yet there are a few things that people do in there that disturb me.

  One is the failure to wash. Some dude handles his junk then heads straight for the door. Whatever he touches is junkified! How much stuff in the store has that guy touched? What about the myriad of guys who didn't wash before him. Its a second hand dick store!

  Others leave racing stripes on the back of toilet seats. Yet others splash water everywhere when they wash there face. These aren't men...they are otters!

  My mom doesn't quite trust the gaskets. "The little germs could just chew right thru that thin paper", she once told me.

  When leaving, I started opening the bathroom door with the paper towels I had just used. Hand gasket, very nice!

Rest stops seldom offer paper towels anymore, choosing instead to blast the creepy crawlies off your hands and all over the walls and floor. I put a few paper towels in my pocket to use after visiting those facilities. I don't mind using air to dry my hands, but that doesn't protect them from the door handle on the way out.

  I wasn't always so fussy. Growing up I never thought about these things. What caused me to start? How did I, a roll in the mud, lose a bet and eat donkey turds little boy, start being concerned about germs?

  Your guess is as good as mine.

  One more story.

  I was in junior high. I went downtown to visit my moms ex boyfriends place. He lived in a studio apartment in a hipster building. He wasn't home. I felt the urge to turd purge. I wandered down into the old lobby area. It wasn't much of a lobby but I did notice the public restrooms. After having thus relieved myself I observed the lack of toilet paper. Duck waddling over to the other stalls failed to provide me with any paper. I panicked and looked at the sinks, no paper there either! What to do?!! I can't call out for help, that would be embarrassing!

  Leaving the toilet plugged up by my underwear made me chuckle. It had worked well. Oh sure, I tried to flush it, but that simply could not work. I felt bad for whoever had to unplug that toilet. I am sure it gave them a good story. I wondered if they would try and keep the place stocked better.

  The whole bathroom thing is messy. I like cleanliness and I like being sanitary. I just wish I didn't worry about it. Can't I just do what I do and not worry? Apparently not :)

  My brother in-law challenged me to say something funny in a public restroom. I have never gotten up the nerve to do it, but someday I simply must. Perhaps at a ball game. Those manly dudes would surely laugh. There are two things that could be said. You walk in, step up to the urinal, and say:

"So.....This is where all the dicks hang out!"
         Or
"Brrrr.....The water sure is cold today!"

  I like the first one best!