life

Navigating Life’s Uncertainties
Daily writing prompt
Do you spend more time thinking about the future or the past? Why?
View all responses

I spend more time thinking about the future, contemplating the myriad possibilities that lie ahead. As a senior, I am acutely aware that my time on earth could be soon or extend for another twenty years or more. Each day I find myself reflecting on the legacy I wish to leave behind, the relationships I want to nurture, and the dreams I still wish to fulfill. The uncertainty of life fuels my motivation to make each moment count and encourages me to embrace both the challenges and joys that come my way, as I navigate this stage of my life with hope and resilience.

I often find myself contemplating the profound question, “how will my time on earth end?” Will I be peacefully walking along one day, only to have an unforeseen mishap occur, leading to a sudden fall or perhaps my untimely death? Or will the end come in the form of a serious accident, shrouded in chaos and uncertainty? Alternatively, could it be that I will find my life eclipsed by the shadow of a relentless illness, one that forces me to endure countless years enveloped in pain and suffering? These thoughts swirl in my mind, weaving a tapestry of fear and curiosity about what lies beyond this mortal existence, leaving me to ponder the meaning of life and the inevitability of its conclusion.

I have been pretty healthy throughout my life, and I’ve always taken my well-being seriously, engaging in regular exercise and maintaining a balanced diet. The most serious health event was almost three years ago when I had a near-death experience due to a gigantic blood clot that formed between my lungs, quite unexpectedly. I remember how terrifying it was to realize that my life was hanging in the balance. Fortunately, I was one of the lucky 3 to 5 percent who survived this kind of event, which has left me with a profound appreciation for life and the fragility of health. This experience not only changed my perspective but also motivated me to advocate for awareness about blood clots and to share my story with others, emphasizing the importance of paying attention to our bodies and the signs they give us. Never massage a cramp in the leg. It may be a blood clot, and the massage may break the clot loose and migrate to the lung and heart to become a life-threatening serious event.

I often think about important events and memories in my life, getting lost in a mix of happy moments and achievements. It’s interesting how certain experiences bring back strong feelings, reminding me of places and people that have shaped me. From joyful childhood times to key career milestones, each memory is like a thread in my personal history. Reflecting on these moments gives me nostalgia and reminds me of the lessons learned and strength gained. It helps me appreciate my journey and understand my future goals better.

Is Evil Winning?

After hearing about the mass murder in Australia. The Brown University killings and the murders of Rob Reiner and wife. One wonders, is evil winning?

All you see on the news is hate, anger, and disagreements about everything. Peace-loving people must be wondering, “what is happening in this world?” I know I am. Being over eighty, I have never seen so much violence and useless attacks on the innocent. It has never been this bad, and the questions linger in our minds: how did we arrive at this point of such discontent? Communities that once thrived on cooperation now seem divided by strife, and everyday interactions are tainted by fear and suspicion. It’s a troubling environment that breeds hopelessness, leaving many to ask themselves if there’s a path toward healing. What is it going to take to turn this around? Perhaps it starts with each individual choosing kindness over hostility, fostering empathy, and making a conscious effort to unite rather than divide.

IS EVIL WINNING ?

Embracing the Calm of November 20th

There’s something peculiar about November 20th. It’s not quite Thanksgiving, not yet the holiday rush. It’s the pause before the crescendo—the day that slips between the cracks of calendars and celebrations.

But maybe that’s its charm.

On this day, the trees are half-bare, like they’re undecided. The air carries a whisper of winter, but still smells faintly of fallen leaves. People start to speak in future tense: “We’ll get the turkey,” “We’ll decorate soon,” “We’ll slow down eventually.” But today? Today is still ours.

It’s a perfect day for small rebellions:

  • Write a letter to someone who wouldn’t expect it.
  • Take a walk without your phone.
  • Start a story with no ending in mind.

Because November 20th is a liminal space—a quiet spark before the storm. And sometimes, the most interesting things happen in the in-between.

Aging and Health Challenges

Yes, I am indeed slowing down. At over eighty years of age, I have been retired since 2006. My journey on WordPress began in 2009, and I ventured onto Substack in 2023. However, I have ceased my postings on the Substack platform, as the responsibility of managing two sites became more akin to a job rather than an enlightening pursuit.

I faced a life-threatening ordeal over two and a half years ago due to a Pulmonary Saddle Embolism, which involves a critical blood clot situated between the lungs. Upon further investigation, I learned that the survival rate for this condition is shockingly low, ranging from three to five percent. I am profoundly thankful to be one of the few fortunate survivors. Recently, however, I received a diagnosis of arthritic degeneration in my lower back, a condition that severely restricts my ability to engage in activities I once relished.

My primary concern lies in my motivation and endurance. Recently, I have found it increasingly challenging to inspire myself to tackle various tasks. Furthermore, when I do engage in an activity, my endurance tends to be quite limited. I recently underwent a wellness exam, during which no serious issues were identified. My blood oxygen level was above 90, with a normal pulse rate and respiration; however, they extracted six vials of blood, whereas the standard procedure typically involves only three. The purpose of the additional three vials remains unclear to me. The results returned indicated all readings were within the normal range. Currently, my health condition remains an enigma.

In conclusion, I will be reducing the frequency of my posts on WordPress. On a positive note, this may be a temporary situation, and I hope that my motivation and endurance will eventually return to their prior levels.

Overcoming Life’s Pebbles

Life can often feel like climbing a massive mountain. We gear up for the tough moments—the steep climbs, the rough trails, the looming storms. We teach ourselves to stay strong, keep courage, and focus on reaching the peak. That mountain could be a dream we’re pursuing, a career we’re shaping, or a change we’re striving for. These big goals give our lives purpose and excitement. They’re challenging, motivating, and absolutely worth the effort. 

But here’s the twist: it’s not always the mountain that wears us out. As the wise saying goes, “It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.” 

Think about that. It’s the small, persistent irritations that sneak in unnoticed—the tiny doubts that whisper we’re not good enough, the lingering resentment from a conversation long past, the habit we keep meaning to break but never quite do. These pebbles, though seemingly insignificant, have a way of stealing our energy and dimming our spirit. They make each step feel heavier; each breathe a little more strained. 

But here’s the beauty in this truth: those pebbles are within our power to remove. 

Unlike the mountain, which may take years to climb, the pebble can be shaken out in a moment of awareness. It starts with noticing. With pausing long enough to ask, “What’s weighing me down today?” Maybe it’s a grudge you’ve been carrying, or a fear that’s quietly grown roots. Maybe it’s the voice in your head that criticizes more than it encourages. These are the things that trip us up—not because they’re insurmountable, but because we let them linger. 

The good news? You don’t have to carry them. 

You can pause. You can sit down, take off your shoe, and shake out the pebble. Start small. Forgive a slight. Let go of a worry. Replace one negative thought with a moment of gratitude. Each tiny action lightens your load, making the climb feel less daunting. It’s not about reaching the summit in one leap—it’s about making the journey more bearable, more joyful, one step at a time. 

And here’s the magic: when your steps are free, your spirit lifts. You begin to notice the beauty around you—the sunrise casting golden light on the path, the encouragement of fellow climbers, the strength you didn’t know you had. The mountain is still there, but now it feels possible. Every small adjustment, every act of self-kindness, brings you closer to the top. 

So, lace up your shoes. Check for pebbles. Embrace the journey. You’re stronger than you know, and the view from the top is worth every step. 

Keep climbing—you’ve got this.

The Quiet Power of Friendship

Audio Podcast 1 1/2 minutes

Friendship isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s a quiet presence—a text that says, “thinking of you,” a shared laugh over something silly, or just sitting together in comfortable silence.

True friends are the ones who see you at your worst and still choose to stay. They celebrate your wins like they’re their own and remind you of your worth when you forget. They’re the people who make ordinary days feel special, just by being in them.

It’s easy to take friendship for granted in the rush of life. But when we pause and reflect, we realize how deeply these connections shape us. They teach us empathy, resilience, and joy. They remind us of we’re not alone.

So today, reach out to a friend. Send a message. Share a memory. Say thank you.

Because in a world that often feels chaotic, friendship is a steady light. It’s the laughter that echoes long after the joke. The hug that lingers. The comfort of knowing someone’s got your back.

And that’s something worth celebrating.

The biggest regret I have in my life is I did not continue friendship as my life continued. I lost track of school friends, army friends, work friends and family. Once an era of my life was over, I moved on without making any attempt to continue the friendships I earned. I wish I would have valued the friendships more than I did and made an attempt to keep in touch with them.

If you are young, do not make the same mistake I made.

Writers Block

Audio Podcast

Writer’s block is a condition where a writer struggles to produce new work, often feeling stuck, uninspired, or unable to generate ideas. It can manifest as difficulty starting, completing, or finding the right words for a piece, and may be caused by various factors like stress, self-doubt, perfectionism, lack of inspiration, or external pressures.

This is my current situation. After nearly twenty years of blogging, I find it increasingly challenging to discover new topics to explore. I have chronicled numerous events from my life, and I am exhausting compelling subjects. I am an ordinary individual, not someone who accomplishes extraordinary feats. I do not leap tall buildings or halt speeding bullets. I am simply who I am.

I have tried searching many writing prompts, and unfortunately, many do not motivate me to write about the topics presented. Often, I find that the themes are either too narrow, lacking in depth, or simply do not resonate with my personal interests and experiences. I’ve explored various sources hoping to discover something that sparks my creativity and ignites a passion for writing. However, it seems like a never-ending quest to find the right prompt that can truly inspire me and lead to a fulfilling writing experience.

Maybe it is the introduction of AI in my writings that has led to this unsettling feeling. Recently, I have used AI many times lately, experimenting with various tools and techniques to enhance my creative process. However, I am beginning to feel that it is not me who is truly writing anymore; instead, it seems as though my authentic voice is being overshadowed by algorithms and machine-generated suggestions. This has raised questions in my mind about the essence of creativity and individuality in an age where technology can mimic human thought. I find myself longing for the raw, organic flow of ideas that used to come so naturally, all while wondering if I can reclaim my unique perspective amid the growing influence of artificial intelligence.

Maybe it is the discomfort I am experiencing in my right hip for over two months, a persistent ache that has begun to affect my daily activities and overall quality of life. The doctors say it is arthritic degeneration, a term that feels daunting when I consider what it implies for my future. Examination showed that my hip joints are ok, which is a relief, yet the source of my discomfort remains elusive. Despite my efforts with exercises and physical therapy, which I approach with hope and determination, there has not been much change; the stiffness and discomfort linger, casting a shadow over my optimism. I am beginning to think my age is catching up with me and this is something I will have to accept, yet I refuse to let it define me completely. I find myself reflecting on the importance of staying active and engaging in life, even as I navigate the reality of this new limitation.

Maybe I just need to take a break for a while and see if that helps. Writing is becoming more like a job than a task that I have enjoyed throughout the last 20 years. Is burnout raising its ugly head like it did 20 years ago when I retired from the working world? I find myself struggling to put words on the page, feeling pressured by deadlines and expectations rather than inspired by creative impulses. Perhaps stepping away for a bit will allow me to rediscover that initial passion and joy I once felt, helping me to break free from this cycle of stress and regain my enthusiasm. It’s important to remember that creativity often flourishes in moments of rest and reflection, and I hope that this time away will renew my spirit and reignite my love for the craft.

Therefore, that is where I am at the moment. I am just going to wait and see what direction I end up going. Life has a way of taking unexpected turns, and sometimes I find myself pondering what the future holds for me. Oh, I wrote this at 4 in the morning, a time when the world is still and my thoughts seem to flow more freely. I do not have any problem going to sleep; however, my problem is staying asleep after 3 or 4 hours of sleep, then I often wake up feeling restless and unable to return to sleep. Perhaps I need to explore some methods to calm my mind and body, to create a more restful atmosphere that will allow me to drift into a deeper sleep without interruption. Only time will tell the direction I end up going.

Navigating Life After Surgeries
Daily writing prompt
Have you ever had surgery? What for?
View all responses

Yes, I had surgery for a variety of medical issues, which included outpatient procedures and acute problems that had developed over time.

The first surgery was for cataracts, a common condition that can cloud the lens of the eye and affect vision. I was fifty years old when the first one was performed, a significant moment in my life that marked the beginning of a journey toward clearer sight. I remember the anticipation and slight anxiety I felt leading up to the procedure, but I was relieved to learn that it was a relatively routine surgery. Then, ten years later, I underwent the same procedure for the remaining eye, which allowed me to fully appreciate the world in vivid detail once again. This is now an outpatient surgery and normally uneventful, with most patients able to return home the same day. I seldom wear glasses anymore since the surgery, which has been a liberating experience, although I still occasionally find myself reaching for them while using the laptop for extended periods, especially when focusing on small text or detail-oriented tasks. The difference in my vision post-surgery has greatly enhanced my daily life, allowing me to engage more fully in activities that I enjoy, such as reading and exploring life

The next surgery happened in 2018 for an eleven mm kidney stone in my right kidney. No modesty allowed here; it was a process that truly tested my understanding of medical technology. They went up through the basement using a laser to break up the stone, a technique that showcases the incredible advancements in modern medicine. In addition to the laser, they needed a bright light to illuminate the area and a vacuum to efficiently remove the debris created during the procedure. It’s remarkable to think about how they can insert all that specialized equipment into your tube and navigate their way up to the kidney, skillfully extracting the stone with such precision. I was kept under observation overnight, monitoring any complications, and was thankfully discharged the following afternoon, feeling relieved yet exhausted. For twelve hours after the surgery, I passed urine that looked like chocolate milk, an unsettling sight that served as a vivid reminder of the battle I had just endured. Each urinating act was a mix of discomfort and fascination at what my body was going through, making me appreciate the resilience of the human body and the expertise of the medical professionals who helped me.

Finally, on January 7, 2023, I had a pulmonary saddle embolism, which is a gigantic blood clot between my lungs. Word to the wise, if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, with a terrific pain in a calf. Do not massage the calf to relieve the pain. Speculation is the massage caused the DVT clot to break loose and migrate from the calf to between the lungs. CT scan showed that it looked like a large tree root going to various parts of the lungs.

They gave me three options, each with its own set of implications and outcomes. First, I could simply rely on medication to try to dissolve the clot, a method that seemed less invasive but carried uncertainties about its effectiveness and timing. The second option was more direct: they would enter through the groin above the hip under anesthesia and insert a specialized instrument designed to remove the clot as much as possible. This approach felt aggressive, and the thought of going under made me hesitate. The third option, however, piqued my interest despite its unconventional nature. It involved performing the same procedure as the second option, but without general anesthesia; instead, I would remain awake and alert, with only local pain medication to numb the area. They explained that they had seen the best results with this method, which allowed for immediate adjustments during the procedure based on my feedback. After weighing the risks and benefits of each choice, I ultimately opted for the third option, believing that remaining conscious would not only give me a measure of control over the situation but also help to improve the overall outcome of the procedure.

The most pain I suffered was when they cut the artery or vein to insert the instruments. They didn’t bother to tell me that they were going to make another incision above the other hip to remove the debris, which caught me completely off guard. It was just as painful as the first incision, intensifying my anxiety and fear during the procedure. The rest of the surgery was not that painful, but I experienced immense discomfort and unease that lingered in my mind. During that harrowing bout, I did think I took my last breath and felt a chilling certainty that my time on this earth was drawing to a close. I do believe I experienced a near-death event, one that left an indelible impression on my psyche, and I had a surreal preview of the time after life on this earth, filled with profound reflections that I still ponder to this day. After three days in the ICU and an additional day in the hospital, they sent me home, but that was only the beginning of my journey back to normalcy. It has been over two and a half years since that day, and while I have recovered physically, the emotional and psychological scars have remained. The only long-term effects are the daily reminder that I must take blood thinner medication for the remainder of my life, which serves as a constant connection to that traumatic experience, reminding me of the fragility of existence and the importance of cherishing every moment.

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A Journey to Oshkosh: Reconnecting Family

Audio PODCAST

This is how it started.

My wife, Dee and I were over at Jeff my son’s house for a delightful Christmas time meal, where the warm atmosphere and festive decorations sparked a nostalgic thought within me. “Maybe my Jeff would be willing to take us to Oshkosh, Wisconsin, so we could visit my brother Jack, who I haven’t seen for over twenty years,” I pondered, feeling a wave of emotion. It’s been far too long since I shared precious moments with my sibling. At over eighty years old, and with my brother Jack being five years my senior, I often reflect on the fleeting nature of time and the importance of family connections. Unfortunately, due to my declining health and mobility, I felt apprehensive about embarking on such a trip alone. So, gathering my courage, I approached my son with my request. I asked him if he and his wife Jennifer would consider taking the journey with us. Jeff paused for a moment, contemplating the idea before he responded, saying that he would think about it and let me know, leaving me filled with hope and anticipation for the possibility of reconnecting with my brother after all those years apart.

Two weeks later, Jeff calls with excitement in his voice, saying he would be willing to assist us in this venture to Oshkosh, which filled me with joy and anticipation. I was elated at the thought of reuniting with my brother, cherishing the precious moments together before time on this earth is over for me or Jack. The connection we share is something I hold dear, and I imagined all the stories and memories we could create. After serious consideration, Dee informs me that due to her ongoing medical conditions and the age factor, she feels that she shouldn’t make the trip for her own well-being. I understood her concerns, as her health must come first. Therefore, I call Jeff and informed him to just make plans for me, him, and Jennifer, hoping that this adventure would strengthen our bonds even further while honoring Dee’s decision.

The following evening, Jeff calls me with an intriguing suggestion that Jennifer had proposed. Instead of her attending the trip, she thought it would be a great idea to invite Adam, who happens to be Jeff’s brother, to join us instead. I found this suggestion quite interesting, as Adam, Jeff, and I have not spent some quality time together for many years. So, I decided to call Adam directly to discuss the idea, He responded enthusiastically, saying he would first talk to his wife to see if he could get off work for that weekend, which made me hopeful for a positive outcome. A few days later, I received a call from Adam, excitedly informing me that he had indeed managed to secure the time off, making it possible for him to join us. This development was fantastic news! With this confirmation, Jeff immediately set to work planning the details of our trip, Final arrangements were made for us to leave the evening of Thursday, May 15th, filled with anticipation for the adventure ahead, and return on Sunday morning, May 18th, looking forward to creating some unforgettable memories together. Ensuring our reunion would be one for the books.

On May 15th, Jeff worked in the morning and then picked me up at noon since I live conveniently between where he worked and his home. We decided to have a bite to eat at his home. Then, Mina, took us to the light rail station for the trip to DIA airport. I had never experienced this mode of transportation to DIA before, but Jeff had done this many times and seemed quite knowledgeable about the whole process. I am not a big fan of light rail since the stations are always in a remote area that feels disconnected from the bustling city life, and I don’t feel very comfortable waiting there. Additionally, there is that small number of people you encounter who make you uneasy with their actions or just their general demeanor. Despite my apprehensions, we arrived at DIA without any problem, and as we stepped off the train, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, grateful for the smooth trip and Jeff’s company.

Jeff commented that the security wait during this time of day should be short. Wrong! It took about 40 minutes to get through security, which felt like an eternity with our bags weighing us down. The hustle and bustle of the airport only added to the stress of the afternoon. Finally, we met Adam at the gate to board the plane, relief washing over us as we spotted him in the crowd. The plane to Appleton was a small plane with just 3 seats across, and it was not very comfortable; each bump in the air seemed magnified in such a tiny cabin. Leaving Denver around 5:30 pm, we sat quietly as the sun dipped below the horizon, arriving at Appleton sometime after 10, accompanied by a growing sense of fatigue. After disembarking, we quickly made our way to the rental car, eager to leave the airport behind, and we drove to Oshkosh, arriving about 30 minutes later. As we pulled in, Jack met us, greeted us warmly, showed us to our rooms, and then promptly crashed, utterly exhausted. It has been a long, stressful day, filled with the anticipation of reunion and the weariness of travel.

On Friday we met Jack at 8 am, and his welcoming demeanor immediately put us at ease. Jack is some authority at The Jesuit Retreat House in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, a serene place known for its tranquil environment, where individuals come to seek peace and reflection. That is where we are staying for the weekend, surrounded by the picturesque landscapes that make this retreat house so special. Ironically, this weekend there is not a retreat going on, allowing us to enjoy the facilities more freely without the usual schedule of structured activities. it worked out well that the trip was planned without knowing there would be no retreat this weekend, as it provided us with a unique opportunity to explore the grounds and engage in meaningful conversations with Jack.

We then went to Oshkosh for breakfast, which is about 5 miles away from our place. Jeff, who is an early riser, decided to exercise at a fitness site in Oshkosh. He stumbled upon this charming little restaurant named Good Yolk that caught his attention. Intrigued by its inviting atmosphere, we collectively decided to give it a try, eager to see what breakfast delights awaited us. Jack, always the pragmatist, warned us that in this area, the food portions are normally large, a fact that often accompanies hearty breakfast cultures. He was indeed correct; our plates were overflowing with delicious options. Despite the overwhelming size of the meals, it was all exceptionally good, filled with flavors that made it a memorable experience we were glad to share together.

After breakfast, we drove back to the retreat house, a charming haven nestled in a picturesque setting, where Jack eagerly provided a grand tour of the facilities. It is truly a stunning place, characterized by its serene location on the shimmering shore of Lake Winnebago, surrounded by lush, meticulously maintained grounds that enhance its natural beauty. As we strolled through the property, I was captivated by the breathtaking views. From a cozy lounge area, you have a panoramic view of the lake, where the water sparkles under the sunshine like a blanket of diamonds. They had binoculars available, allowing us to observe the delightful birds flitting about as well as the various activities taking place on the water, such as boats and fishing, adding to the lively atmosphere of this idyllic retreat.

Then after lunch, Jack wanted to take us to Waupaca, Wisconsin, which is an hour away from Oshkosh. They have a facility there where priests go during the summer for resting and relaxing, providing a serene escape from their daily responsibilities. It is only utilized during the warmer months, transforming into a tranquil haven away from the busyness of the outside world, a place where peace reigns, and nature’s beauty captivates hearts. Jack really likes the area and apparently goes there every summer, always returning refreshed and rejuvenated after his visits, sharing stories of his experiences that resonate with a deep sense of connection to this idyllic setting. The drive to the facility is quite scenic; it is isolated, where you navigate down a narrow gravel road for maybe half a mile to reach your destination, surrounded by towering trees that seem to stand as guardians of this retreat. As you drive through this heavily wooded area, the anticipation builds, and you arrive at a location nestled near a beautiful lake, where the calm waters reflect the surrounding nature and cradle the silence that fills the air. Unfortunately, that day, the weather was not our friend, as the wind was blowing hard, rustling the leaves ominously and casting an eerie atmosphere that made our hearts race. On the way back, while navigating down the narrow gravel road, we discovered that a tree had blown over and blocked our path, an unexpected challenge that increased the tension among us. Fortunately, the main trunk did not fall across the road, creating an obstacle we couldn’t ignore. Or we would have been stranded there, with no way to return to civilization. We quickly assessed the situation and were able to move the smaller branches, while Jeff skillfully maneuvered the car around the larger tree trunk, showcasing his adept driving skills. Adam and I worked together to hold back the branches that we couldn’t break away from the trunk, each crack of the branches above adding to the tension, instilling a growing concern that another tree might take a tumble while we were precariously navigating this situation. It was a moment filled with both anxiety and exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through us as we worked together to overcome this obstacle, but ultimately, we got out unscathed. Yes, that is indeed an ideal place to get away and disconnect from the chaos of everyday life, where one can truly immerse themselves in nature’s embrace, allowing the soothing sounds of the lake and the forest to wash over the soul. We then got a bite to eat. We returned to the retreat house to spend an evening of talking and sharing events in our lives, where laughter echoed against the walls, and the warmth of friendship enveloped us like a comforting blanket.

Saturday, we met at the same time and went for breakfast in Oshkosh at The Mineshaft. This is primarily an evening restaurant, known for its vibrant nightlife and bustling atmosphere after dark. However, to our pleasant surprise, we discovered that they have a very reasonable breakfast menu priced at only seven bucks, which is quite a steal for the quality offered. The menu features a variety of delicious options, from fluffy pancakes to hearty omelets, catering to all breakfast lovers. You can tell that most of their profits are generated from drinks at night and the young crowd that flocks there for the lively energy and socializing. Despite its evening focus, the breakfast experience was enjoyable and filled with the friendly chatter of early risers, making our visit a delightful start to the weekend.

Driving by, we stumbled upon an intriguing establishment, the Military Veterans Museum, which piqued our curiosity, prompting us to make an impromptu visit. The museum showcased a comprehensive display of military conflicts throughout history, featuring an impressive array of vehicles and equipment that have played pivotal roles in combat. Adam and I, being veterans ourselves, felt a deep connection to many of the items and stories on display, as they echoed our own experiences and sacrifices. Jack and Jeff, were equally captivated by the exhibits, sharing their insights and memories as we walked through the museum. After thoroughly exploring, we heard about the EAA Museum of Flight, which was highly recommended by several locals, and decided it warranted a visit. To our amazement, we quickly discovered that EAA was far larger than we had anticipated; it was a treasure trove of aviation history where one could easily spend an entire day taking in the detailed exhibits and aircraft on display. After 2 or 3 hours of exploration, however, the older members of the group were feeling fatigued and agreed it was time to call it a day. Before heading back to the retreat house, we made a stop at a charming Japanese restaurant that Jack had enthusiastically recommended. The food was delicious, providing a delightful culinary experience that was perfect after a day of adventure. Since it was late afternoon, we decided to return to the retreat house to unwind and spend another evening reconnecting with each other. We shared countless tales and stories, reminiscing about the last twenty years we had spent apart. Each narrative was filled with laughter and nostalgia, creating a warm atmosphere that allowed us to strengthen our bonds. This experience was not just enjoyable; it was a memory that we would all cherish forever.

Sunday, we met at 5:45 am to have a small bite to eat, eager to fuel ourselves for the day ahead. After indulging in two days of large, hearty meals, a modest breakfast felt both satisfying and refreshing, a welcome change that allowed us to ease our way into the morning. At 6:30, with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation, we said our goodbyes to Jack, who had been an incredible host throughout our stay. We then drove to Appleton, where the excitement grew as we approached the airport. We managed to get on the plane somewhere around 8:30, and as we took off, I looked out the window at the ever-changing scenery below. The flight was smooth, and I was filled with thoughts of the past few days until we landed at DIA around 10:30. Stepping into the terminal, I was just astonished by the sheer number of travelers bustling around the airport, a vibrant mix of voices and energy. I also couldn’t help but notice that there were very few older travelers in sight; most were young, hurried individuals, all with destinations calling. After navigating through the crowd, Tara, Adam’s wife, picked us up with a warm smile. She took me home first, engaging in light conversation about our trip, followed by a detour to drop off Jeff, wrapping up what had been a memorable journey.

In conclusion, this has been a very memorable experience for me, one that I will cherish forever. I am incredibly glad that it all worked out well for everyone involved, as these moments are truly precious. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to visit Jack before our time is up on this earth. These visits remind us of the importance of connection and the bonds we share with our loved ones. Additionally, the time spent with my two sons was absolutely priceless; it filled my heart with joy and gratitude. It has been many years since we made the effort to reaffirm the love and the unbreakable bond a father and his sons share, a connection that will never fade away. Those moments together, filled with laughter and storytelling, not only reignited our familial ties but also allowed us to appreciate the present and the memories we create together.

Am I starting to show my age?

Audio PODCAST

Recently I went to Home Depot to buy a replacement connector for a hose, a task that seemed straightforward enough. I find what I need, a sturdy little connector that would serve its purpose well, and head to the self-checkout with a sense of accomplishment. I scan the item and get ready to pay, feeling rather pleased with my efficient shopping. However, as I reach into my front pocket for the money, I receive the shock of my life. My billfold and money are not there! PANIC! Where are they? My heart races as I search my other pockets, but there’s nothing. No wallet, no cash, nothing to complete my purchase. I feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I finally have to summon the clerk, my cheeks burning with the realization that I’ve forgotten my money. I inform her, awkwardly, that I can’t pay for the five-dollar purchase because of my carefree negligence. She kindly voids out the purchase, a small relief amid my distress, and I rush to my car, my mind racing with thoughts of where I might have lost my wallet, as I hurry home, vowing to be more careful in the future.

The trip is about ten minutes to home, but it feels like an eternity as I replay the events in my mind. All the time I am thinking about what could have happened to my billfold and cash, the weight of worry growing heavier with each passing moment. Did it fall out of my pocket during my hurried walk? Impossible! I can’t bear the thought of having lost such an important item. I start trying to retrace my tracks, mentally revisiting the last place I remember having it—each location sparks a flicker of hope but also despair. Maybe someone took it at breakfast yesterday, though I truly don’t believe that, as this is precisely why I carry my billfold in the front pocket to thwart pickpockets. I had different pants on yesterday, a pair with more pockets but perhaps a looser fit. Maybe I left it in yesterday’s pants, tucked away in a pocket I didn’t think to check. That is possible, isn’t it? The thought gives me a glimmer of optimism, as I urge myself to maintain hope while counting down the blocks until I reach home.

As I drive home, I can’t shake off the feeling of dread as I imagine the worst-case scenarios—what if it is gone for good, lost among the countless other items in my car, or worse, stolen by someone who has no regard for the inconvenience they cause? My mind races through the exhausting process I will undoubtedly have to face, reporting my credit cards to prevent any unauthorized charges, replacing my driver’s license along with my health insurance card, which is a nuisance I could do without. This situation brings back vivid memories of a particularly distressing day when my wife’s purse was lifted off her shopping cart during our grocery run, a simple act that spiraled into a massive headache as we navigated the chaos of getting everything replaced. The discomfort and frustration we endured were overwhelming, turning a mundane shopping trip into a stressful ordeal that seemed to take forever to resolve. I can’t help but wish we had taken extra precautions then, as this experience serves as a painful reminder of the vulnerability, we all face in our daily lives.

I finally get home and rush in the house, hurrying toward the closet where I had left yesterday’s pants, my heart racing with anxiety and anticipation. RELIEF! It is there, waiting for me like a long-lost friend. Apparently, in my flustered morning rush, I took out all the other items from the pocket and meticulously placed them in the replacement pocket, but inadvertently put the billfold back in yesterday’s pants, thinking I had checked everything thoroughly. As I hold the familiar fabric in my hands, a wave of embarrassment washes over me, reminding me of how forgetful I can be these days. It seems like little mishaps like this are becoming a routine, making me acutely aware of how I’m growing older, and I can’t help but chuckle at my own forgetfulness, wishing I could easily dismiss these moments as mere quirks rather than signs of aging.

D-Day, June 6, 1944

Do you remember D-Day June 6, 1944? I do. I was only 2 years old when the event happened, so I must say I learned about D-Day through the stories and historical accounts shared by those around me in the years that followed. In my opinion, this day stands as one of the most significant turning points in history, marking not only a pivotal moment in World War II but also a crucial step towards the liberation of Europe from Nazi occupation. If this day hadn’t happened, it is plausible to think that the United States might have found itself in a dramatically altered world, perhaps speaking German and living under a very different historical narrative. The bravery demonstrated by the Allied forces on that fateful day continues to inspire generations, reminding us of the sacrifices made for freedom and the importance of standing against tyranny when it arises.

Because of D-Day, I spent almost two years in Germany in the US Army, where I dedicated myself to protecting Germany and NATO nations from the ever-looming Soviet threat during the tumultuous 1960s. This was a significant period in my life, filled with a myriad of experiences that shaped my understanding of global affairs and the importance of camaraderie among allied forces. The friendships I forged with my fellow soldiers, alongside the local German populace, created a rich tapestry of memories that I will never forget. I cherish the adventures we embarked upon, from routine drills to engaging in cultural exchanges, all of which deepened my appreciation for the resilience of those living in a divided Europe at that time. The echoes of history resonate within me, reminding me of the sacrifices made and the bonds formed in the face of challenge.

I will always remember D-Day as long as I am spending time on this earth, not only for the sheer scale of the events that unfolded but also for the profound impact it had on the course of history and the lives of countless individuals involved. The bravery exhibited by the soldiers who stormed the beaches that day exemplifies courage in the face of overwhelming odds, forever etching their sacrifice into the annals of history. Each time I reflect on that pivotal moment, I am reminded of the resilience of the human spirit and the importance of honoring the legacy left behind by those who fought valiantly for freedom and peace.

Comparing 1990 Technology to Today’s Technology

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Back in 1990, many conveniences didn’t exist or were not widely available. Here’s a rundown of key differences, based on technological and societal changes:

Cell phones existed but were bulky, expensive, and mostly for voice calls, making them a luxury that only a select few could afford. Smartphones were just a dream on the horizon of technological advancement. During that time, these devices were simply referred to as mobile phones, and they came without features that we consider standard today: there were no touchscreens, apps, or internet access to broaden their capabilities. Communication on the go was a challenge; people often resorted to using payphones or landlines, which were conveniently located in public spaces but required coins for use or were limited to the confines of home. The lack of portable connectivity meant that keeping in touch with family and friends was often dependent on finding a phone booth, leading to planning ahead and sometimes even waiting for hours until one could reach someone. In hindsight, this era marked a significant moment in communication history, setting the stage for the rapid evolution that would follow as technology progressed.

The World Wide Web was in its infancy. The first website launched in 1991. Most people didn’t have internet at home, and dial-up was just starting. No Google, social media, or streaming. Most computers used floppy disks, and modems were slow (e.g., 300 baud). Data was stored on floppy disks or hard drives. No Dropbox or Google Drive for easy file access. Downloading a single image could take minutes. Email existed but was mostly for academics or businesses. No Gmail or widespread personal email accounts.

Netflix, Spotify, or YouTube was not available during that era. Entertainment meant physical media like VHS tapes, CDs, or cassette tapes, which you would carefully store on shelves and handle with care, as they could easily become damaged. You rented movies from Blockbuster, where the excitement of browsing the aisles to find the perfect film was part of the experience, or watched scheduled TV broadcasts that brought families together at specific times each week, creating shared moments of joy and anticipation. The allure of movie nights, complete with popcorn and cozy blankets, highlighted the value of these tangible formats, making each viewing a memorable event.

Navigation relied on paper maps or written directions, which often required careful planning and a good understanding of geography. Car GPS systems were rare and expensive during this era, making them difficult for the average consumer to acquire, and even the few available options were not very user-friendly. As a result, drivers often found themselves grappling with large, unfolded maps while attempting to decipher complicated routes, leading to confusion and, at times, frustrating detours.

Amazon didn’t exist until it was founded in 1994, a time when the internet was still in its infancy and online shopping was merely a concept. Back then, shopping was mostly in-person at malls or stores, where customers would browse physical aisles and interact directly with sales staff. The closest alternative to in-store shopping was the use of mail-order catalogs, which allowed consumers to select products from glossy pages and place orders through the postal service, though this method often involved long waiting times for delivery. This shopping landscape was drastically different from today, where online platforms like Amazon have fundamentally transformed the retail experience, making it more convenient and accessible than ever before.

Platforms like Facebook, X, or Instagram didn’t exist; social interactions were vastly different back then. Connecting with friends and family meant making phone calls, writing letters, or organizing in-person meetups, often involving careful planning and anticipation. The experience of waiting for a response to a letter brought a sense of excitement and patience, creating a tangible connection that was cherished. Face-to-face gatherings allowed for rich conversations and the warmth that could only come from being physically present with others, fostering deeper relationships in a way that many today might overlook amid the convenience of modern technology. The simplicity of these interactions cultivated meaningful bonds and a distinct sense of community that shaped social lives in profound ways.

No Uber, Lyft, or DoorDash. You hailed taxis or cooked and ate out without app-based delivery options, relying instead on the traditional ways of getting around and enjoying meals. This meant planning ahead for your outings, flagging down a yellow cab on the bustling streets or waiting patiently for a taxi to arrive. When it came to food, the lack of delivery apps encouraged you to explore local restaurants more deeply, discovering hidden gems you might have otherwise overlooked. Cooking at home became an opportunity to try new recipes and share hearty meals with family and friends, creating lasting memories over the dining table. While the convenience of technology was absent, it fostered a sense of community and engagement that often felt more rewarding.

Cameras used film, and you waited days to develop photos, creating an exhilarating anticipation for the images captured. The process involved carefully loading film rolls and manually adjusting settings, ensuring every shot counted. No instant previews or sharing online meant you had to savor the memory of each moment before finally seeing the results, often leading to delightful surprises or unexpected disappointments. This slower pace fostered a deeper appreciation for photography as an art form, as each photograph represented a unique story, frozen in time to be cherished later.

No Siri, Alexa, or smart home tech—home automation was once purely the stuff of science fiction, not reality. In the past, the concept of a fully automated home seemed like a distant dream, captured only in movies and novels. People imagined a world where machines could perform everyday tasks seamlessly, making life easier and more efficient. However, as technology has advanced rapidly in recent years, this vision has begun to materialize, transforming our living spaces into interconnected ecosystems of convenience and innovation.

TVs were bulky CRTs, taking up significant space in living rooms, and cable or satellite services offered a limited selection of channels, often leaving viewers longing for more variety. There was no Roku or smart TVs available, which meant that options for streaming content were virtually nonexistent; families relied heavily on scheduled programming and occasional VHS rentals for their entertainment needs. As a result, evenings were typically spent gathered around the television, flipping through the few available channels and enjoying whatever shows happened to be on, fostering a sense of togetherness despite the limitations of the technology.

Books were physical, tangible items that filled our shelves and sparked our imagination, and tablets like the iPad weren’t around to provide a digital alternative. Laptops were heavy and costly, cumbersome to carry and often reserved for those who needed them for work or study, limiting access to technology for many. In a world where the convenience of e-readers and portable devices was merely a dream, the joy of flipping through pages and feeling the weight of a book in hand remained unparalleled, creating a unique connection to the written word that modern technology seldom replicates.

No WhatsApp, Zoom, or Skype. Long-distance communication was expensive via phone or slow via mail, often requiring days or even weeks for a simple message to reach its destination. Friends and family could find themselves separated by vast distances, unable to share in daily experiences or urgent news without incurring hefty charges. Letters had to be meticulously crafted and sent off, leaving an anxious wait for replies, while missed phone calls would linger in the mind, a reminder of the disconnect and longing for connection that technology today has all but erased.

Daily life in 1990 required more planning, physical media, and in-person interactions. Many tasks we now do instantly, like booking flights or checking weather, involved phone calls or manual effort. We are living in a period of technology boom. AI is just beginning. What will we see in the next five years?

However, one concern is that all these conveniences may be destroying social contact, which is essential for healthy human interaction. Since humans are inherently social beings, the need for social interaction is being limited, leading to the possibility of increased feelings of isolation and loneliness. This shift in communication dynamics raises important questions about how this trend will affect the mental health of future generations. The reliance on digital communication over face-to-face interactions might hinder the development of crucial social skills and emotional intelligence. As a result, future adults may struggle to navigate complex interpersonal relationships, potentially leading to heightened anxiety and depression rates. If we do not address these challenges, we may find ourselves facing a society where genuine connections are scarce, leading to further mental health problems that could have long-lasting implications for overall well-being.

Understanding Declining Birth Rates: Causes and Consequences

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Time and time again you see and hear that the birth rate is declining. In my small world I see an alarming trend with the women who are in childbearing age. Many say they do not want to be a mother. They do not want to be tied down to a husband and family. I see many young women on local broadcasts and notice no wedding rings and search their bio and find most are thirty or older, no children, and not married. It appears that they have chosen a career over raising a family. Many births that have happened around me were not planned. I wonder, what happened to the internal desire to pro create. Researching has shown some reasons for this decision made by childbearing women.

  1. Economic Pressures: High living costs and low wages make raising children difficult. In developed countries, expensive housing and childcare often discourage people from having more children.
  2. Changing Social Norms: More people, especially women, now value education and careers over getting married and having children early. This leads to later marriages and childbirth, shortening the time available for having kids.
  3. Access to Contraception: Availability of birth control helps people choose smaller families or delay having children.
  4. Urbanization: City living, with little space and high expenses, discourages large families unlike rural areas where children used to help with work.
  5. Cultural Shifts: Individualism and lifestyle choices, such as travel and personal freedom, are often prioritized over traditional family structures. Some people decide not to have children (childfree movement).
  6. Environmental and Health Concerns: Worries about climate change, political issues, or health risks (like pandemics) make some people hesitant to have children due to an uncertain future.
  7. Declining Marriage Rates: Fewer people are getting married, often delaying for reasons like education or career goals. This trend correlates with fewer births, as marriage is typically seen as the context for starting families, and societal norms often encourage having children within marriage.
  8. Aging Populations: In countries like Japan and South Korea, low birth rates result in fewer young people, leading to fewer potential parents.

Data backs this up: The global fertility rate dropped from 2.5 children per woman in 2000 to about 2.3 in 2020, per UN estimates. In countries like South Korea, it’s as low as 0.78 (2022).

History doesn’t show a clear, universal pattern where declining birth rates alone lead to the demise of a civilization. However, they often contribute to vulnerabilities when combined with other factors. Here’s a quick look:

  • Examples of decline with low birth rates: The Roman Empire faced population stagnation from the 1st to 4th centuries CE due to economic issues, political instability, and invasions. Low birth rates among the elite and in cities decreased military and labor forces. Similarly, after the Black Death in the 14th century, late medieval Europe experienced population decline, which worsened economic and social issues, though recovery occurred later.
  • Counterexamples: Countries like Japan and parts of modern Europe have low birth rates (e.g., Japan’s fertility rate is about 1.3 children per woman). They sustain their population through immigration and technology. Ancient Athens also experienced declining birth rates in the 4th century BCE, but its decline was mainly due to military defeats.
  • Key factors: Declining birth rates can harm economies and military strength, but civilizations often collapse due to various problems like corruption, outside threats, or lack of resources, not just low birth rates. For instance, the Mayan collapse in the 8th-9th centuries CE was caused by environmental stress and warfare, not only by a decrease in population.
  • Data point: Studies indicate that global fertility rates are decreasing (2.4 in 2020, projected to be 2.2 by 2050). Societies with strong institutions and adaptability, like those in Scandinavia, perform better than those with rigid systems.

In conclusion, low birth rates can weaken a civilization’s resilience, but they’re not a death sentence on their own—adaptability and external pressures matter more. However, it is important to keep an eye on this trend before this trend cannot be corrected.

A Bridesmaid’s Wedding Blunder: When Texting Goes Wrong

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Debbie was juggling bridesmaid duties for her best friend Pat’s wedding, a whirlwind of tulle and timelines that seemed to swirl around her like confetti in the wind. Late one night, after a long day of finalizing seating charts and meticulously arranging floral centerpieces, Debbie typed a heartfelt message to Pat’s fiancé, Tom, about a surprise she had been planning for weeks: “Tom, Pat’s dream is to dance to ‘At Last’ under string lights at the reception. I’ve arranged it with the band—don’t tell her, it’s a secret!” Exhausted yet exhilarated by the thought of making her best friend’s wedding unforgettable, she hit send and collapsed into bed, her mind racing with visions of the magical moment. But in her haze of sleepiness and excitement, Debbie hadn’t sent it to Tom. Instead, she’d accidentally texted Pat’s ex, Steve, who had been lurking on the fringes of their lives since their breakup. The realization of her mistake hit her like a cold splash of water, and panic surged through her veins as she imagined the chaos that could ensue.

Morning brought chaos. Debbie woke to a string of confused texts from Steve: “Debbie, what’s this about a dance? I’m not in the wedding… or Pat’s life anymore.” Her heart stopped, a cold wave of dread washing over her as the implications struck her with full force. Steve, still nursing a broken heart, had replied at 6 a.m., clearly thrown by the message, still grappling with the emotional fallout of their recent breakup. Worse, he’d forwarded it to Pat, thinking it was a mistake that needed clearing up, only adding fuel to an already volatile situation. The thought of Steve, vulnerable and hurt, somehow still tethered to the life they once shared, sent a ripple of guilt through her. In that moment, Debbie felt trapped in a web of miscommunication that threatened to ensnare everyone involved, turning what should have been a light-hearted wedding gesture into a source of confusion and discomfort for all.

Debbie’s phone buzzed again—Pat. “Debbie, why is Jake texting me about our reception? What’s going on?” Panic surged through Debbie like a tidal wave, overwhelming her with regret. The surprise she had meticulously planned for Pat was now completely ruined, and she could feel the tension rising as she realized that Pat was upset, thinking Debbie was stirring old drama. It was meant to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of love, and instead, she had inadvertently put a damper on it. Heart racing, Debbie quickly dialed Pat, her mind racing as she stumbled over apologies. “I meant to text Tom! It was about a special moment for you, not Steve. I’m an idiot.” She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, wishing she could take back the message that had sparked the confusion. This wasn’t just a simple mix-up; it was about Pat’s happiness, and the last thing she wanted was to create misunderstandings during such an important time in her friend’s life.

Pat, though frazzled and caught off guard, softened at Debbie’s detailed explanation. “Okay, but fix this. And what’s this about ‘At Last’?” she pressed, her curiosity piqued. Debbie, feeling cornered yet excited, quickly spilled the elaborate plan: it involved the band playing under twinkling lights, a carefully curated playlist, and the romantic first dance Pat had always dreamed of since childhood, a moment that would finally come to fruition. Pat’s voice warmed, a smile creeping onto her face despite her earlier frustration. “That’s… perfect, just what I wanted all along. But please, deal with Jake first, because I can’t imagine this day going smoothly if he’s not on board.”

Debbie called Steve, mortified. “I’m so sorry. Wrong number, total accident.” Steve was gracious but hurt, admitting the message had reopened old wounds he thought he had buried long ago. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, and a profound silence stretched between them for a moment. Debbie felt awful for unintentionally stirring up his past pain, but she quickly steered the conversation toward a sense of closure, urging him to let Pat move forward with her life. It was time to let go of lingering bitterness, she insisted, emphasizing how often life demanded us to forgive and adapt. Steve listened, nodding slowly; he agreed, promising to stay out of it, aware that holding onto the past would only continue to weigh him down. He appreciated her concern and felt a flicker of hope rekindled by her encouragement, as they both silently acknowledged the importance of healing.

With hours until the rehearsal dinner, Debbie scrambled to salvage the surprise’s magic, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. She confirmed with the band, ensuring they knew the special song that would bring tears to Pat’s eyes, and double-checked the intricate lighting setup that she had meticulously planned to create an enchanting atmosphere, believing that every detail mattered and that Pat’s moment would still dazzle everyone present. At the venue, which buzzed with excitement and laughter, she pulled Tom aside, her voice slightly trembling as she confessed the mix-up that had thrown her into a state of panic. To her relief, Tom laughed, unfazed by the unexpected hurdle. “As long as Pat’s happy, we’re good. Let’s make it unforgettable,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, instilling Debbie with a renewed sense of determination to ensure that the evening would be nothing short of magical, filled with joy and cherished memories.

The wedding night arrived, and under a canopy of twinkling lights, the band struck up “At Last,” filling the atmosphere with a sense of magic and romance that enveloped everyone present. Pat’s eyes sparkled with joy as Tom, her devoted partner, gently led her to the dance floor, their hearts racing in unison, the secret intact in spirit yet heavy with anticipation. Debbie watched from the sidelines, her heart swelling with happiness, relieved to see Pat glowing with blissful contentment, completely oblivious to the backstage scramble where last-minute adjustments were being made to ensure everything went perfectly. The soft murmur of laughter and clinking glasses melded into the enchanting melody, creating a moment that would be etched in their memories forever.

Later, Pat wrapped her arms around Debbie in a bear hug, practically squeezing the breath out of her. “You pulled it off! I don’t know how, but thank you. Seriously, if you ever need a career in miracle-working, I’m your biggest fan!” Debbie couldn’t help but grin, feeling like a superhero who just saved the day—cape and all. She mentally made a note to triple-check every recipient forever, vowing not to let her fingers get a wild imagination again. The misfired message had nearly turned their day into a sitcom episode complete with dramatic music, but it also reminded Debbie just how far she would go to keep her friend’s joy intact—even if it meant playing the role of the world’s most paranoid email sender. Sometimes, a slip-up could spark a laugh-worthy story worth telling—if you just danced through the chaos like nobody was watching. This became a memory they’d tease each other about for years, a shining example of how even the most bewildering mishaps could turn into hilarious anecdotes filled with laughter, friendship, and the shared realization that, yes, chaos was just another word for unexpected fun

Free Lunch at Rosemary’s Café: A Kind Gesture

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The bell above the diner’s door jingled as I stepped into Rosemary’s Café, the familiar scent of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon wrapping around me like a warm hug. It was a crisp Tuesday afternoon, and the place was humming with the usual lunch crowd—truckers at the counter sharing stories from the road, a family in the corner booth animatedly discussing their weekend plans, and a couple of suits talking shop over club sandwiches while occasionally glancing at their watches. I slid into my regular spot by the window, the red vinyl seat creaking under me as I settled in, glancing at the outside world where leaves danced in the gentle breeze. The table had that comforting stickiness from years of syrup spills and quick wipes, a testament to the countless meals shared and memories made within these walls. A waitress, familiar with my preferences, approached with a warm smile, ready to take my order, and I felt a sense of belonging wash over me, grounding me in the bustling atmosphere of this beloved café.

I scanned the room for Amy, the waitress who’d been serving me my turkey melt and black coffee every Tuesday for the past three years. Her brassy laugh and quick wit were as much a part of this place as the checkered floor, always filling the air with a sense of warmth that made each visit feel like a reunion. I could still hear her teasing me about my relentless order, claiming that even a gourmet chef would be bored serving the same dish weekly; her friendly banter often made my day. But today, my search turned up empty, and a younger server, maybe college-aged with a ponytail and a nervous smile, hustled over instead. Her name tag read “Kelly,” and I detected a hint of hesitation in her voice as she greeted me, her eyes scanning the menu before asking if I was ready to order. It was clear she was still finding her rhythm, and while I appreciated the effort, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for Amy’s familiar presence.

“No Amy today?” I asked, flipping open the menu out of habit.

Kelly shook her head, scribbling on her notepad. “She’s out sick. Nasty cold. I’m covering her shift. What can I get you?”

I ordered my usual—turkey melt, fries, coffee—and settled in, watching the street outside through the large window. A delivery truck rumbled by, its engine growling like a hungry beast, and a kid on a skateboard nearly wiped out on the curb, his laughter echoing faintly as he regained his balance and sped away. Kelly brought the coffee fast, though it was a touch weaker than Amy’s perfect pour, missing that rich, full-bodied flavor that always kicked off my mornings. The food hit the spot, as always: bread toasted just right, turkey sliced thin, and fries crisp enough to crunch joyfully with every bite. As I ate slowly, savoring the routine, I couldn’t help but feel it was a little off without Amy’s cheerful “How’s your day?” or her playful teasing about my predictable order, which always made the meal feel warmer and more inviting. The ambiance buzzed with the soft chatter of the other patrons and the scent of grilled sandwiches mingling with freshly brewed coffee, yet the absence of her bright smile made the moment seem strangely hollow, like a dish missing its key ingredient.

When I finished, Kelly dropped the check on the table—$15.47. I reached for my wallet, but she hesitated, then leaned in, her voice low like she was sharing a secret. “Actually, you don’t owe anything today.”

I blinked. “Come again?”

“It’s on the house. Well, not exactly—Amy’s covering it. She left a note this morning, said you’re one of her favorites. Loyal customer and all. She’s been meaning to do something nice for you.”

I sat back, stunned. “Amy’s paying for my lunch? She’s not even here.”

Kelly nodded, a small smile breaking through her nervous energy. “Yeah, she’s got a cold, but she called in to make sure we comped your meal. Said you’re ‘good people.’ Her words.”

I chuckled, warmth spreading in my chest as I thought about how dedicated Amy was to her work. Even in her current state, sick as a dog, she was still thinking about her regulars and the people she cared for. I pictured her at home, bundled in a quilt that must have been her grandmother’s, probably grumbling about missing her shift and wishing she could be there to chat with everyone. “That’s Amy, alright,” I said, a smile creeping across my face. “She’d be the first to tell you that even when under the weather, her heart’s still with us. Tell her I said thanks for always looking out for us, and to get better soon, yeah? We need her back on her feet, brightening up our days with her laughter and stories.”

“Will do,” Kelly said, clearing my plate. “She’ll be back next week, I bet. Tough as nails, that one.”

I left a tip anyway—ten bucks, more than usual, because Kelly was trying hard and genuinely seemed to appreciate the gesture. As I stepped outside, the bell jingling again behind me, I felt lighter, like the world was a little kinder than I’d thought before. The crisp air wrapped around me, invigorating and refreshing my spirit. Amy’s gesture, which might have seemed small to an outsider, wasn’t just about the free sandwich; it was a heartfelt reminder of the quiet bonds you build just by showing up and being present for one another in life’s routine moments. I made a mental note to bring her some of that fancy tea she liked, something soothing and special, when she was back in the café. Loyalty and kindness go both ways, after all, and I felt a deep appreciation for those connections that often go unnoticed.

Reflecting on a Mother’s Endless Love

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Every year, as May unfolds with the vibrant echoes of spring, we take a moment to honor the profound essence of our lives: our mothers. Mother’s Day is not merely a date on the calendar; it is a cherished opportunity to recognize the incredible women who infuse love into every aspect of our being, often while quietly sacrificing their own needs. This day is dedicated to you, Mom—and to every mother whose unwavering love touches and transforms the world.

I think of my own mother, her hands always busy, her heart always open. I see her in the small moments: the way she’d slip an extra cookie into my lunchbox with a scribbled note that said, “You’ve got this.” I hear her in the late-night talks when the world felt too heavy, her voice steady, reminding me I was never alone. Even now, as an adult, her hug feels like home, her laughter like a melody that rights every wrong.

Mothers are our first teachers, our fiercest protectors, our softest landing. They carry us—sometimes literally, sometimes through prayers whispered in the dark—long before we know how to carry ourselves. They celebrate our victories, no matter how small, and mend our broken pieces when life leaves us shattered. Their love is a constant, a lighthouse guiding us through storms we’re too young or too stubborn to navigate alone.

But let’s be honest: we don’t always see it. As kids, we roll our eyes at their worry, dismissing it as unnecessary fuss. We fail to understand that their concern stems from love, a deep-rooted desire to protect us from the harsh realities of life. As teenagers, we mistake their boundaries for chains, believing they limit our freedom and autonomy. In our rebellion, we challenge their authority without recognizing the sacrifices they make for our well-being. It’s only later, when life teaches us its hard lessons through experiences that shape our character, that we realize those rules were love in disguise. Those packed lunches, meticulously prepared with our favorite snacks, those sleepless nights spent waiting up for us to return home safely, those “call me when you get there” texts—they were her heart, stitched into every detail of our lives, a constant reminder of her unwavering support and affection. Each of those gestures is a testament to the deep bond that exists between us, one that we often take for granted until we have the wisdom to appreciate what it truly meant.

This Mother’s Day, I feel compelled to express the gratitude I often overlook: Thank you, Mom. Thank you for the silent tears you bore so that I could radiate joy. Thank you for the aspirations you set aside to elevate my own. Thank you for your unwavering love through my chaos, my blunders, and those times I lost sight of how truly blessed I am to call you mine.

To those whose mothers are no longer here, I feel you. The ache of their absence is a testament to the love they left behind. Celebrate them in the recipes you still make, the stories you tell, the values they etched into your soul. To those who’ve lost children or yearn to be mothers, your love matters, and it’s seen. And to the mothers reading this, exhausted from giving your all: you are enough. Your love is changing the world, one heart at a time.

This Mother’s Day, let’s cherish more than just flowers or cards. Let’s gather with our moms, listen deeply to their stories, and hold their hands gently. Let’s express to them how they are our heroes, our safe haven, our forever support. A mother’s love is truly timeless, unwavering, and steadfast. If your mother is no longer with you, take a moment to reflect on the times you may have taken her for granted, and recognize that you were surrounded by unconditional love, even in moments when it wasn’t fully visible.

Happy Mother’s Day, to every mom, everywhere. You are our everything.

Is the Time Near?

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I am in my mid-eighties, and I am beginning to wonder, is my time to depart the earth near? Many times, in the last weeks I have had this empty feeling, as though a heavy cloud hangs over my spirit, casting shadows on my vibrant thoughts. The memories of a life richly lived swirl around me, bringing both joy and sadness as I reflect on the countless moments that shaped my journey. Conversations with loved ones feel more poignant, and I find myself cherishing each encounter, each laugh, and each shared story. As I sit quietly, watching the world outside my window, I can’t help but contemplate my legacy and what I will leave behind, igniting a deeper awareness of the fragility of life and the preciousness of time.

I have had these empty feeling other times during my life and times after I experienced an event in my life that affected me deeply. It often feels as though this empty feeling serves as an unspoken warning, a subtle premonition that something significant is about to transpire. Like a shadow lurking in the corner of my mind, this sensation accompanies me, making me ponder the nature of foresight and intuition. Sometimes, something indeed happens, manifesting as a surprising twist of fate, while other times, this sense of unease dissipates and nothing occurs. It leaves me in a state of reflection, trying to analyze the correlation between these moments and their outcomes. I would speculate the rate is around 50% accurate, suggesting a curious balance between expectation and reality, where the mind plays tricks, leading one to wonder about the origins of this emotional forewarning and its implications on my experiences.

Over two years ago I had a near-death experience, an event that truly reshaped my understanding of life and existence. Yes, I did have that empty feeling a few days before the event happened, a sense of foreboding that something significant was on the horizon. However, that experience did give me a gift that changed my life profoundly. I lost the fear of time after death, a burden that had weighed heavily on my shoulders for so long. With my various experiences in life, including a substantial amount of religious training and other influential factors, I held the belief that we are all sinners, inherently flawed beings striving for perfection, and that one had to work hard to attain any form of eternal life after our time on this earth. For many years of my life, I thought I would never qualify to walk through the pearly gates, forever feeling unworthy of the grace I had been taught to aspire towards. This newfound perspective, however, allowed me to embrace the beauty of imperfection and the importance of living fully in the present, knowing that life, in all its ups and downs, is a journey filled with lessons rather than a test to pass or fail.

I am writing this blog because I woke up around four this morning, feeling empty and lost, like I was surrounded by a thick fog. The early morning quiet, with just a few sounds from the world waking up outside my window, let my thoughts flow into deep reflection. As the darkness faded into the first signs of dawn, I couldn’t shake the feeling of longing. This solitude often leads me to think deeply, encouraging me to explore my emotions and share my experiences.

I am at the age where I may fall over dead soon, or I may have many years to go, living life with hope and purpose. Each day presents new opportunities, and I will continue to make the fullest of whatever my destiny is, embracing both the challenges and joys that come my way. With every moment, I am reminded to cherish time spent with loved ones and to pursue my passions fearlessly. I am confident that God loves us unconditionally and, through the sacrifice of Christ, died for our sins, offering us grace and redemption. This belief anchors me, providing strength and comfort as I navigate the unpredictable waters of life.

Celebrating 30 Years of Love: Our Anniversary Journey

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Today marks a significant milestone in our lives as we celebrate our 30th anniversary together, a journey filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories. It was on April 22, 1995, that we exchanged our vows, embarking on a beautiful adventure that has only grown richer with the passing years. Over the decades, we have navigated the ups and downs of life, always finding strength in our partnership, and today we reflect on the countless moments that have shaped our story.

This was a midlife marriage, a time when many people begin to reflect on their past choices and seek new beginnings. Dee, my wife, and I had both experienced previous marriages that came to a shocking end, leaving us with a complex array of emotions and lessons learned. We met later in life, both carrying the weight of our pasts but also a renewed hope for the future. Our shared experiences brought us closer, allowing us to understand each other in ways that maybe we couldn’t have at a younger age. We embarked on this journey together, committed to creating a loving and supportive partnership that we had both longed for.

We picked up each other and have forged an extraordinary, lasting relationship over forty remarkable years, overflowing with priceless memories and vibrant experiences that have only deepened the flames of our bond. Throughout these decades, we have passionately navigated the exhilarating highs and heart-wrenching lows of life together, fiercely supporting one another through every challenge and joy, allowing our love to blossom and intensify with each precious moment we share.

I look at her now and realize how fortunate and lucky that our lives crossed, as each moment spent together has woven rich memories into the fabric of our existence, shaping my understanding of love, friendship, and the beauty of shared experiences. Her laughter sparkles like sunlight breaking through the clouds, illuminating the darkest days, and the deep conversations we’ve had have opened my eyes to new perspectives that I had never considered before. The journey we’ve embarked on together has not only strengthened our bond but has also enriched our souls, creating a unique path that feels both surprising and beautifully destined.

Hopefully we will have many healthy years together, filled with joyful memories, shared adventures, and the kind of love that grows stronger with each passing day. As we navigate the ups and downs of life, I look forward to cherishing every moment and supporting each other through challenges, all while creating a lifetime of happiness and laughter.

Easter Thoughts 2025

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Here it is the Thursday before Easter. Dee and her granddaughter Danielle are busy in the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they make Easter pie, a cherished Italian tradition that has been passed down through generations. This delightful dish is a highlight of the Easter meal, made with a hearty mix of sausage, creamy eggs, flour, and a flaky crust that envelops all the goodness inside. After making a trip to the local market, they bought twenty dollars’ worth of ricotta cheese, which is essential for the richness of the pie, while Danielle is responsible for bringing the sausage and eggs, carefully selected for their freshness. As they preheat the oven and prepare the ingredients, the intoxicating aroma of herbs and spices wafts through the kitchen. They are both filled with excitement and anticipation, though it’s still too early to tell how many pies they will end up making together. I would guess four or more, as they often make extras to share with family members and friends who look forward to this beloved treat each year.

Reflecting on my past Easters brings back a flood of memories intertwined with my upbringing as a Catholic. I remember the forty days of Lent vividly; it was a time filled with both reflection and challenges. The tradition of abstaining from meat on Fridays was a weekly reminder of sacrifice and commitment to faith. During Lent, the requirement to fast was particularly strict; the last two meals could not exceed the portion of a humble breakfast, and it always felt like a test of willpower. You were expected to give up something meaningful for Lent, akin to making a New Year’s resolution, and while I attempted to adhere to this tradition, I eventually gave up on both the resolutions and the need to consciously think about them. Stations of the Cross every Friday during Lent served as a poignant reminder of the suffering endured, and we were repeatedly reminded of our humanity and the burden of sin, reinforcing a narrative that getting to heaven was an arduous journey requiring effort and perseverance. Dressing up for Easter service was always a highlight, transforming the event into a cherished occasion marked by the joy of community and tradition, followed by a family meal that often included all the favorite dishes, symbolizing abundance and togetherness. In recent years, I’ve noticed that the church’s Easter guidelines have eased up quite a lot, reflecting a shift towards a more inclusive and less stringent interpretation of faith practices, which has allowed many to approach these traditions with a lighter heart.

The Easter Bunny was around with the Easter egg hunt, a delightful tradition that either brings families together or turns into a comical disaster as kids trip over each other in the quest for chocolate glory. You had to hard boil the eggs and then color them with vibrant dyes, turning plain whites into a joyful array of colors—and let’s be honest, probably staining everything in the kitchen, including that stray cat who decided it was the perfect time to investigate. Does anyone even do that anymore? It feels like a nostalgic ritual that’s been replaced by plastic eggs that come pre-filled with candy, making it all too easy—no mess, no fuss, but also no fun. Surely some of the eggs were hidden so well they weren’t found until the middle of summer, where they turned into little time capsules of kindness and rank odors. The memories of those egg hunts, filled with the thrill of discovery and the sweet anticipation of treats, stand out as the highlight of spring, even if most of the excitement came from the fear of what might crawl out from the grass!

Easter has increasingly become a commercialized event, overshadowing its original significance, which was rooted in spiritual renewal and resurrection. The numerous marketing campaigns and consumer-driven activities, such as extravagant egg hunts and lavish floral displays, seem to distract from the deeper cultural and religious foundations of the holiday. This raises concerns about the ongoing efforts to alter or eliminate many American traditions that hold profound meaning, as more families prioritize shopping and entertainment over meaningful gatherings and reflection. As society continues down this path, it begs the question of what we stand to lose in our understanding of Easter’s true essence and the values it once represented, prompting a broader dialogue about the preservation of our cultural heritage in the face of commercialization.

The Forgotten Letter

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Jeff was rummaging through his grandmother’s attic when he stumbled upon an old dresser, its chipped paint revealing layers of forgotten colors beneath, and its creaky drawers protesting with each movement. As he peered closer, a curious sensation washed over him, compelling him to investigate further. Feeling something odd behind the dresser, he moved it aside with a careful nudge, revealing an envelope wedged tightly against the wall, yellowed and brittle with age, coated in a fine layer of dust that spoke to years of neglect. The postmark reads “March 16, 1942,” and his heart quickens as he realizes it’s addressed to a name he doesn’t recognize: “Roseann Westbrook.” Intrigued, he examines the envelope more closely, noting there’s no return address to provide any clues about the sender, just a faded stamp and a wax seal, cracked but intact, bearing an unfamiliar crest—a snake with a key in its mouth—that left him wondering about the secrets contained within this unexpected discovery. What stories were hidden in the words that lay inside, and who was the mysterious Roseann Westbrook?

Curiosity gets the better of him. He peels it open, careful not to tear the fragile paper, marveling at the way the sunlight catches the edges, illuminating the delicate fibers woven into its texture. Inside, the handwriting is elegant but shaky, as if written in a hurry or under strain, revealing the urgency behind the words crafted on the page. The letter begins with a flourish, yet there’s an underlying tremor that suggests a deep-seated fear or a profound longing, drawing him further into the unfolding story that lies within these lines. He hesitates for a moment, sensing that what follows may change everything he thought he knew.

“Roseann, if you’re reading this, it means I failed. The house isn’t safe anymore. They know where it is, and they’ll come for it next, relentless and hungry for the secrets it holds. Keep the key hidden, buried deep where only you can find it, far from prying eyes. Trust no one—not even yourself, as doubts can creep in like shadows at dusk, clouding your judgment. Burn this when you’re done, but first, remember every detail of our time there; the walls whisper with memories that could unravel everything we’ve built. Your safety depends on your vigilance. Stay alert and be prepared to act swiftly if they come for you.”

It’s signed only with an initial: “L.” Tucked into the envelope is a small, tarnished brass key, its teeth worn but intricate, like it belongs to something old and important, perhaps a treasure chest filled with memories or a long-forgotten diary holding secrets waiting to be uncovered. There’s no indication of who “they” are, what “it” is, or why Roseann never got this letter, a mystery that weighs heavily in the air. Jeff never heard of a Roseann Westbrook, yet he feels an inexplicable connection to the name, as if it echoes through time and space. The dresser’s previous owner—a distant relative, maybe, or a stranger from an estate sale—offers no clues, leaving Jeff to ponder the significance of the key and the life of the woman it was meant for, igniting a flame of curiosity that fuels his imagination about the untold stories and hidden connections linking him to a past he never knew.

At first, Jeff dismisses it as a quirky relic, a piece of someone else’s story that has too carelessly found its way into his possession. But then, as the days pass, strange things start happening, and what once felt innocuous now feels unsettlingly invasive. Jeff notices a car lingering too long outside his house, its driver obscured by tinted windows, watching as if waiting for something significant to occur. A faint tapping echoes from the walls at night, like something—or someone—searching, probing with an urgency that sends shivers down his spine. Each night, the sounds grow more pronounced, the air thick with an unshakable tension. And the key, which you left on your nightstand, keeps turning up in odd places: your coat pocket, the fridge, the bottom of a drawer he hadn’t opened in weeks, as if it has a will of its own, taunting him with its mysterious reappearances. He begins to wonder if these occurrences are all connected, weaving a web of intrigue that pulls him deeper into a narrative he feels he doesn’t fully understand.

The letter changes his life in ways you couldn’t predict. Maybe Jeff should start digging into Roseann’s Westbrook identity—uncovering a trail of missing persons reports that leads him down a dark alley of forgotten stories, a house that burned down decades ago with whispers of tragedy surrounding it, or a local legend about a hidden vault no one’s ever found, said to hold secrets that could unravel the very fabric of his understanding. As he delves deeper, he wonders if the key itself begins to unlock not just physical doors, but also the very essence of reality: a door in Jeff’s basement that wasn’t there before, beckoning him with an eerie aura, a memory that feels like it belongs to someone else, complete with vivid details he cannot explain, or a long-buried secret about his own family that he was never meant to uncover, one that casts a shadow over his entire past. The more Jeff learns, the more he realizes “they” might still be out there—and now they’re watching him, lurking in the corners of his life, waiting patiently for the moment he strays too far into the depths of what was supposed to remain hidden.

Who was Roseann Westbrook, and why didn’t she get the letter that seemed to hold the weight of the world? Was she truly betrayed by those closest to her, lying in eternal silence, or had she simply vanished from the clutches of her reality when it arrived? The implications of that letter are profound—what does the key within it unlock—a physical place steeped in history, a long-buried secret that could alter everything, or perhaps something far more supernatural that defies explanation? And then there is the enigmatic figure known only as “L”; who are they, and what crucial task did they fail to undertake that changed the course of so many lives? Are they still alive, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the moment when someone will finally finish what they started, or have they too disappeared into obscurity? This intricate web of mystery reshapes Jeff’s life in ways he could never have anticipated, pushing him into uncharted territories of despair and hope. Yet, the ultimate question lingers like a haunting refrain—one may never truly know the answers, as Jeff mysteriously disappeared and was never seen again, leaving behind a trail of questions that may never find resolution.

Purpose of Life

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This is just me picking a topic and commenting about everything that comes to mind, exploring various perspectives and insights that might be relevant. I find that expressing my thoughts can lead to a deeper understanding of not only the topic itself but also how it connects to broader themes and issues in my life, stimulating further discussion and engagement with others who may have different viewpoints. Through this process of reflection, I uncover layers of meaning that I hadn’t considered before, allowing me to engage more thoughtfully with the complexities of the world around me. I am near the end of my journey, and I am reconciling my life and what I could have done better in events and experiences I have been confronted with. It’s a time of introspection, where I assess not only my choices and values but also how those decisions have shaped my relationships and impacted my personal growth. By acknowledging my past, I hope to embrace the lessons learned and apply them to future endeavors, fostering a sense of purpose and clarity that drives me toward a more fulfilling existence.

Discovering your purpose in life is a deeply personal journey, but there are steps you can take to explore and uncover what brings meaning to you. To begin, take some time for self-reflection; consider what activities and experiences have historically brought you joy and fulfillment. Engaging in journaling can be a productive method to articulate your thoughts and feelings about your passions and values. Additionally, seek feedback from those who know you well; they may offer insights into your strengths and the aspects of life where you shine brightest. Don’t hesitate to explore new interests, as trying new things can spark inspiration and lead you to unexpected paths. Here are some ideas to get started:

  1. Reflect on what excites you: Think deeply about activities or moments that make you lose track of time or fill you with joy and excitement. What are you passionate about? Consider how these interests not only bring you happiness, but also how they shape your life and influence your personal and professional goals.
  2. Identify your values: Consider what truly matters to you—kindness, creativity, growth, connection, etc. Reflect deeply on these aspects of your life to understand their significance. Mapping out your values can prompt important questions about your decisions and lifestyle. Aligning your actions with your core values often leads to a profound sense of purpose and fulfillment, guiding your choices and interactions in both personal and professional arenas.
  3. Embrace curiosity: Try new hobbies, explore different fields, and meet diverse people. Sometimes, purpose is discovered in unexpected places, and by stepping outside of your comfort zone, you might uncover hidden passions or interests that inspire you. Engaging with various activities allows for personal growth and new perspectives on life. Embracing new adventures, no matter how big or small, can lead to meaningful connections and experiences that enrich your journey.
  4. Acknowledge your talents: Reflect on your strengths and skills. Take time to consider how you can use them to contribute positively to others or the world around you. By recognizing your unique abilities, you open up opportunities for personal growth and the potential to inspire those around you. Emphasizing your talents can lead to meaningful connections and impactful contributions in various aspects of life, from your community to your workplace and beyond.
  5. Practice mindfulness: Take time to sit quietly with your thoughts and reflect on your day or week. It can be beneficial to engage in activities such as journaling or meditation, as these practices can help you tune into your inner voice, allowing for greater self-awareness and understanding of your emotions.
  6. Connect with others: Talk to people you admire, seek mentorship, or join communities aligned with your interests. Engaging in meaningful conversations and sharing experiences can lead to valuable insights that might inspire your own path. Participating actively in discussions can also help you expand your network and open up new opportunities you may not have considered before.
  7. Give back: Volunteering or helping others can bring a profound sense of fulfillment and might lead you closer to what feels purposeful, as it connects you with your community, allows you to develop new skills, and fosters deeper relationships with those around you.

A purpose doesn’t have to be monumental—it could be as simple as spreading kindness, being present for loved ones, or pursuing what makes your heart sing.

Why You Should Celebrate Your True Self

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The phrase “just be yourself, you were created to be yourself not someone else” is a powerful and inspiring call to embrace your individuality and authenticity. It suggests that each person has a unique purpose, personality, and set of qualities that define who they are—and that trying to imitate or become someone else goes against the natural design of your existence. In today’s world, where societal pressures and external expectations often push individuals to conform, this message serves as a vital reminder to honor and celebrate your distinctiveness. Each person’s journey is shaped by their experiences, passions, and dreams, which collectively contribute to their identity. Embracing who you truly are not only fosters self-acceptance but also encourages others to do the same, creating a ripple effect of authenticity and confidence. When we allow ourselves to shine in our true colors, we inspire those around us to break free from the constraints of comparison and judgment, ultimately leading to a more vibrant and diverse society.

At its core, “just be yourself” is like a friendly nudge from your inner couch potato, urging you to embrace your wonderfully weird self. It’s like telling you to kick societal expectations to the curb—who needs them anyway? Comparing yourself to others is so last season, and the quest for approval can be a real snooze-fest! Instead, why not celebrate your quirks, values, and the oddball passions that make you, well, you? It’s all about loving your delightful mess, flaws and all, rather than trying to be a cookie-cutter version of some glossy magazine superstar. Remember, pretending to be someone you’re not is just a fast track to the land of grumpiness, while living authentically is like jumping into a pool of marshmallows—just pure joy and fluff!

The second part, “you were created to be yourself not someone else,” adds a layer of intentionality. It implies that your uniqueness isn’t random or accidental—it’s deliberate. Whether you view this through a spiritual lens (a creator designing you with purpose) or a secular one (your individuality emerging from a mix of genetics, experiences, and choices), the message is that your existence as you has inherent value. Trying to copy another person’s life, traits, or path dismisses that value and assumes someone else’s blueprint is better than your own.

In practice, this could mean resisting the urge to conform just to fit in. For example, if you’re naturally introverted, you don’t need to force yourself to act extroverted to match a loud, outgoing friend. Or if your dreams differ from what’s trendy or expected—like pursuing art in a family of engineers—that’s not a flaw to fix, but a strength to own. The phrase reminds you that authenticity isn’t just allowed; it’s the whole point.

That said, being yourself doesn’t mean staying stagnant. It’s not an excuse to avoid growth or self-improvement. Instead, it’s about evolving in a way that aligns with your true nature, not someone else’s. It’s the difference between refining your own voice as a writer versus mimicking Hemingway because he’s revered.

Ultimately, this idea champions the beauty of diversity in humanity. If everyone was meant to be the same, the world would lose its richness, becoming a monochromatic existence devoid of the vibrant hues that individual identities bring. Your specific blend of traits, thoughts, and actions—imperfect as they may be—contributes something no one else can, creating a unique tapestry of experiences that enhances our collective journey. Embracing your true self not only fosters personal growth but also inspires others to do the same, generating an atmosphere of acceptance and understanding. So, “just be yourself” is both a personal liberation and a quiet rebellion against the pressure to be anything less; it is a powerful call to celebrate our differences and recognize that in our authentic expressions lies the potential for real connection and profound impact.

My 2001 S10 Chevy Pickup

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Saying Goodbye to My Trusty 2001 S10 Chevy Pickup

For over two decades, my 2001 S10 Chevy Pickup was more than just a vehicle—it was a reliable companion. I bought it back in the day with a clear purpose: to tackle my 18-mile commute to work. It did that job faithfully, day in and day out, without complaint. But as life shifted gears, so did my need for it. I retired in 2006, and since then, the little truck’s role in my life slowly faded. In the last couple of years, I barely put 500 miles on it annually. With just 75,000 miles on the odometer, it still had plenty of life left, but it was clear it was time to let go.

The decision to sell wasn’t easy. That truck had been a steady presence, sitting in the garage, ready whenever I needed it. But practicality won out. It wasn’t getting much use anymore, and I figured I could save a bit on insurance and the occasional upkeep. Besides, a vehicle like that deserves to be driven, not just parked. So, after some thought, I decided to sell it to someone who’d appreciate it as much as I did—my son-in-law, Steve.

Steve was thrilled to take it off my hands. He’s always had a soft spot for that kind of truck, and I knew he’d treat it right. Sure enough, he’s been taking great care of it—keeping it clean, staying on top of any little things it needs, and driving it with the kind of enthusiasm I had back when it was my daily ride. What’s even better is that he’s told me I can borrow it anytime I want. It’s nice to know it’s still in the family, and I can hop in for a spin whenever nostalgia hits.

That S10 was a good truck—rock-solid and dependable. In all the years I owned it, the only repair it ever needed was a new oxygen sensor. That’s it. No major breakdowns, no headaches. Just a tough little pickup that got the job done. Even now, after letting it go, I miss it. There’s something about the hum of that engine and the feel of the wheel in my hands that tugs at me every now and then.

Selling it to Steve feels right, though. It’s not gone forever—just passed along to someone who’ll give it the miles and memories it deserves. I’m glad it’s in good hands, and I’ll always look back on my time with that Chevy with a smile.

My Car Speaks Out


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I am a 2022 Honda HRV, a compact yet mighty crossover, designed to navigate the urban jungle with a touch of adventure. My story begins in the bright, bustling lot of a Honda dealership, where I gleamed under the sun, my coat of Urban Gray Metallic catching the eyes of passersby.

My owner, Tom, found me on a crisp autumn day. He circled around, inspecting my sleek lines and spacious interior. I could feel his approval as he ran his hands over my alloy wheels and checked out my cargo space. There was an instant connection, and soon, I was rolling out of the dealership, my engine purring with excitement.

The first journey with Tom was memorable. We ventured out of the city, and I found myself navigating through winding country roads, my all-wheel-drive system gripping the pavement with confidence. The scenery was a blur of colors, but I felt every curve, every incline, as if I were part of the landscape itself.

Life with Tom was full of small adventures. We’d often drive to the local park where he’d open my tailgate, revealing the convenience of my Magic Seat feature, perfect for his weekend camping gear or a quick picnic. I loved those moments when the sun set, casting golden rays through my windows, warming the interior while Tom enjoyed his Gatorade.

Winter arrived, and I proved my mettle. With my heated seats and climate control, we kept cozy even on the chilliest days. The snow didn’t daunt me; my snow mode ensured we navigated through the white landscapes with ease. There was a sense of pride when I managed to get us out of the snowy parking lots where others were stuck.

But it wasn’t all about the adventures. I was there for the mundane too – the daily commutes, the grocery runs, the quiet drives to the library or to visit friends. Each journey, no matter how short, was a chance for me to serve and to be appreciated. Tom would sometimes talk to me, not expecting a reply, but I listened. I heard about his day, his plans, his hopes. It made me feel like more than just a vehicle; I was a companion.

Then there was the music. Tom loved his tunes, and my audio system was just right for him, filling the cabin with his favorite beats, making each drive a little concert. The joy of music, the beat matching the rhythm of my engine, it was a harmony unique to us. Tom was overjoyed when he discovered my UBS feature. Now he can bring thousands of his favorites copied onto a thumb drive and never hear the same song twice.

One day, we took a long road trip. The open road was liberating, the horizon endless. My fuel efficiency meant fewer stops, more miles under my wheels. We saw mountains, forests, and at one point, we pulled over at a viewpoint. Tom sat on my hood, watching the sunset, and I felt a sense of accomplishment for bringing him to such a beautiful place.

As time passed, I’ve seen maintenance days – oil changes, tire rotations – but each visit to the mechanic was a testament to how well Tom cared for me. I was not just a machine; I was a part of his life, his story.

Now, as I sit here, perhaps parked in the garage, I look back on these days with fondness. I’ve been more than a vehicle; I’ve been a part of Tom’s journey, his companion through the seasons, through the ups and downs. Here’s to many more adventures, to the bond that forms between a car and its owner, to the road less traveled, and to the road yet to come.

Rover and Socks

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Rover: Hey, Socks! What’s the deal with your windowsill throne? Do you think you’re the queen of England or just auditioning for a feline royal reality show? I mean, lounging there like you own the place, with your snooty little nose in the air while the birds put on their daily aerial show—do you even lift a paw? I can’t decide if you’re a majestic ruler or just an expert sunbather. Seriously, what goes through that fluffy head of yours as you plot world domination from your sunny perch?

Socks: Because I do own the place, Rover. It’s a tough job being this fabulous, but someone’s got to do it! You see, it’s called being superior—a title that comes with the royal perks of elegance and grace, which apparently you missed out on while frolicking in a tail-chasing frenzy. Meanwhile, I’m up here surveying my domain, looking regal from the highest perch while you tumble into yet another round of your never-ending antics. It’s a demanding life of leisure and poise, one that requires a level of finesse that clearly zipped right past your wagging tail!

Rover: Tail-chasing is all the rage! Seriously, you should give it a whirl instead of snoozing like a bear in hibernation. Live a little! There’s nothing quite like the sheer thrill of zooming in circles, wind flapping your fur like those ridiculous car ads, and feeling like the king of your own hilarious chase. It’s not just a game; it’s a cardio workout disguised as fun! Just think, you can turn the most boring day into an epic adventure with a little tail-twirling chaos. So let that inner goofball shine, lose yourself in the delight of chasing your own tail, and who knows—you might just discover the secret to a happier life is all in the spin!

Cat: Napping is basically my superpower, you drooling furball! I’m just recharging my batteries for the crucial duties ahead—like my not-so-secret mission of judging the humans, who hilariously think they run this place. While I blissfully doze, I’m orchestrating my next regal takeover, all while mildly entertained by their daily circus acts. It’s a riot watching them dash around, tackling one errand after another, completely oblivious to the divine joys of a sunbeam or a rogue feather swaying in the breeze. Trust me, my naps aren’t just for show; they’re tactical retreats, moments for plotting my rightful reign over this household!

Rover: Judging? I’d rather lick ‘em! They’re the best treats I could ever imagine. Who else gives me delicious snacks just for sitting? It’s like magic! Every time I hear that rustle of the treat bag, my tail wags furiously, and I can hardly contain my excitement. The way they reward me makes me feel so loved and appreciated; it’s not just about the food, but the bond we share whenever I perform my best tricks.

Socks: Ugh, your standards are so low. I get treats for existing, and it’s called finesse. You see, it’s not just about being present; it’s about the charm and grace I bring to the room. I flaunt my adorable little paws and my irresistibly fluffy fur, and that’s what gets me those delightful snacks. Why settle for less when I can dazzle everyone with my quirks? After all, who wouldn’t want to spoil a pet with such an unmatched personality? It’s all part of the game, and trust me, I’m winning it every day!

Rover: Finesse? More like laziness. Bet you can’t catch a ball like I can! I’ve perfected my techniques after countless hours of practice in the park, chasing after sticks and bouncing balls, leaving my friends in awe of my skills. With my lightning-quick reflexes and unmatched enthusiasm, there’s no doubt that I am the ultimate fetch champion. So, bring it on! Let’s see you try to keep up with my agility and catching prowess!

Socks: Why would I catch a ball when I can catch a mouse? That’s skill, not just slobbering after a toy. While the other dogs might chase after those brightly colored balls, I find a thrill in the chase that’s much more adventurous and exciting. The soft rustling of tiny paws, the quick darting here and there, and the challenge of outsmarting my furry little opponent. It’s a game of wits, and it requires precision and agility that goes beyond mere instinct. I relish the satisfaction of a well-executed capture, proving that I’m not just a plaything chaser but a true hunter at heart.

Rover: Mice are boring. You ever try barking at the mailman? Gets the blood pumping! There’s nothing quite like the excitement of watching him approach, the way my fur bristles with anticipation as I prepare to make my move. The thrill builds in my chest, and I can’t help but let out a few barks, expressing my excitement and guarding my territory. With every delivery, it’s a new adventure, a chance to showcase my protective instincts and earn my place as the watchdog of the house. Plus, the look on the mailman’s face is priceless; it’s like I’m a part of a comedy show that’s never quite the same from one day to the next!

Socks: And wake up the whole neighborhood? No thanks. I prefer a quiet stalk—stealth is my style. There’s something exhilarating about moving silently, slipping through the shadows where only the faintest whispers of wind can be heard. Each paw step is deliberate, calculated, as I navigate across the familiar terrain, evading the blaring sounds of daily life. The thrill of remaining unnoticed, blending into the dusk, allows me to observe without being seen, to feel the pulse of the night without disturbing its serenity. It’s a dance of caution and cunning, where the thrill of the hunt mingles with the peace of solitude.

Rover: Stealth? You mean sneaking into my bed when I’m not looking, like a shadow in the night, quietly tiptoeing across the floor, as if on a secret mission? It’s as if you have mastered the art of silent approach, waiting for the perfect moment to curl up beside me, while I’m blissfully unaware, wrapped up in my dreams.

Socks: It is not sneaking it is claiming what is mine. You are just too dumb to notice.

Rover: Well, I’ll share it with you anyway. You’re not so bad, Socks; in fact, I’ve come to appreciate your company more than I initially thought I would. It’s surprising how two different personalities can find common ground and enjoy each other’s presence. I’ve seen your cleverness in navigating tricky situations, and it’s made me respect you a little more. After all, who would have thought that a dog and a cat could share stories under the stars and laugh at the silliest things together?

Socks: Hmph. You’re tolerable, I suppose… for a loud, smelly beast. Despite your constant racket, which often disrupts my peaceful moments, there’s an undeniable charm in your antics. Your boisterous nature might be overwhelming at times, but it certainly brings a unique energy to the room. I find myself reluctantly drawn to your quirks; the way you bound around with excitement, even if it leaves a trail of chaos behind. So, while I may refer to you as a beast, I must admit that your presence adds a layer of unpredictability that, oddly enough, I can appreciate.

Rover: Wanna chase the squirrel outside together? It looks like it’s darting around in the yard, and I can already feel the excitement building inside me! Just imagine the thrill of running after it, weaving through the trees and bushes while enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. What do you say we head out, let our energy loose, and see if we can catch that little critter before it scurries up a tree?

Socks: …Fine. But I’m leading. When it comes to navigating through this tangled mess, I know exactly where to go. I’ve got a plan in mind, a clear direction that’s been brewing for a while. You may have ideas too, but it’s time to trust my instincts on this one. We can’t afford to waste time wandering aimlessly, and I promise to keep everyone focused and on track. So let’s gear up and follow my lead, because I have a feeling this is going to be quite the adventure.

My Biggest Sin

Audio PODCAST

Here’s a list of things that most people would agree should be avoided:

  1. Lying – Deliberately deceiving someone for personal gain or to harm them.
  2. Stealing – Taking something that doesn’t belong to you without permission.
  3. Cheating – Being unfaithful to wife.
  4. Hurting others – Physically or emotionally causing harm to people or animals.
  5. Breaking promises – Failing to follow through on commitments without good reason.
  6. Wasting resources – Carelessly using up things like food, water, or time that others could benefit from.
  7. Blaming others unfairly – Shifting responsibility onto someone who isn’t at fault.
  8. Being cruel – Intentionally causing suffering for no justifiable reason.

So, what is my biggest sin? I would say my biggest fault is taking people too much for granted. Here are people I should have been more considerate of instead of taking them for granted.

  1. My parents – They were always there for me throughout my childhood and beyond. They fed me, they protected me from harm, and they never stopped loving me, even when I was a jerk and made mistakes. Their unwavering support and guidance shaped who I am today.
  2. My grandma – I grew up with her by my side, and she played an immensely important role in shaping my character and guiding my decisions. She helped me in the future with what she said when I was young, sharing wisdom that stayed with me throughout my life.
  3. My wife – I don’t know what I would do without her. She has been my rock and my support through thick and thin. Yet many times I take for granted that she will be there until death do us part, always ready with a kind word or a warm smile, making each day brighter and full of love.
  4. My two sons – They are an important part of my life. Yet again I have taken them for granted, not fully appreciating the joy, laughter, and lessons they bring to each day, reminding me of the beauty present in the simplest moments we share together.
  5. My two stepdaughters and two stepsons – They are an important part of my life, bringing their unique perspectives and experiences that enrich our family dynamics and create lasting memories together.
  6. The American way of life – Emphasizes individualism, personal freedom, and the pursuit of happiness, where citizens have the opportunity to achieve their dreams through hard work and determination, set against a backdrop of diverse cultures and values that coexist and contribute to the nation’s unique identity.
  7. The first responders and military– who bravely put their lives on the line each day, ensuring our safety and security in times of crisis and conflict.
  8. Friends, relatives and neighbors-You meet thousands of people throughout your life, you experience conflicts and disagreements, and you develop many friendships along the way. These friendships, which often bring joy and support, many times I have taken for granted, and they eventually disappear, leaving behind a sense of nostalgia for what once was and a realization of how important these connections truly are. It serves as a reminder to cherish and nurture the relationships that influence our lives so profoundly.

Finally, as I age, I am becoming more aware of my shortfall and am attempting to stop taking people for granted and show more appreciation at the moment. This realization has led me to reflect deeply on my relationships and the little acts of kindness that often go unnoticed. I find myself making a conscious effort to express gratitude, whether it’s a simple thank you for someone’s help or a heartfelt note acknowledging their support and presence in my life. I understand now that these small gestures can strengthen bonds and foster a sense of community and love among those I cherish. Embracing this mindset has not only enhanced my interactions but has also enriched my own sense of fulfillment and happiness as I navigate this journey of life.

My Legacy 2nd Edition

Audio PODCAST ORIGINAL

Audio PODCAST AI ASSISTED

On May 21, 2024, I posted this blog. I have been interested in AI (artificial intelligence) lately and I thought I would try something. The first section is the original post and the second is the same post, but I used AI to enhance the post.

ORIGINAL

I never thought much about a legacy until after my near-death experience in February of 2023. My Bloodclot (Podcast). After the event I started to reconcile my life and thought, “why was I given a second chance?” I must have some unfinished business to do before my journey is over. I am just a mere mortal. I do not jump over tall buildings or stop speeding bullets. All I have is over eighty years of life on this earth. Searching for the purpose of a second chance I have decided to write about events and experiences in my life. Last August I remembered I had a site on WordPress and became active in the site. Since then, I have posted many events. Is this the purpose for the second chance? Who knows for sure.

The legacy I want to leave behind is, He was a good man. He tried to do the right thing. He was fair and didn’t take advantage of his fellow man. His faith of God and life after death was strong.

I hope my two sons remember me as a good father who did what he thought was right and necessary so they can live a good and productive life.

I hope my spouses do not regret that the years they spent with me was good years together and do not regret the years together.

I hope my stepchildren do not regret that I came into their lives and can call me stepdad with pride.

I hope all the other people I have come in contact with can say, “he was a good man!”

This is the same posting but was enhanced with AI.

I never thought much about a legacy until after my near-death experience in February of 2023. My Bloodclot (Podcast). After the event, I started to reconcile my life and thought, “why was I given a second chance?” This profound question resonated within me, leading me to reflect deeper on the moments that shaped my existence. I must have some unfinished business to do before my journey is over, some stories yet to tell. I am just a mere mortal, trying to navigate the complexities of life. I do not jump over tall buildings or stop speeding bullets; rather, I face each day with the wisdom that only comes from lived experience. All I have is over eighty years of life on this earth, each year contributing to my understanding of joy, sorrow, triumph, and loss. Searching for the purpose of a second chance, I have decided to write about events and experiences in my life, hoping that sharing my journey might resonate with others facing their own trials and tribulations. Last August, I remembered I had a site on WordPress and became active in the site, driven by a newfound sense of urgency to connect and share. Since then, I have posted many events that reflect my growth and transformation. Is this the purpose for the second chance? Who knows for sure, but I am committed to exploring this path, whatever it may reveal about my legacy and the impact I can have on others.

The legacy I want to leave behind is, He was a good man. He tried to do the right thing in all situations, often putting others’ needs before his own. He was fair and didn’t take advantage of his fellow man; rather, he stood up for justice and compassion in the community. His unwavering faith in God and life after death was strong, providing him with the strength to face life’s challenges with grace. He inspired those around him to reflect on their own values and encouraged them to pursue a path filled with kindness and integrity, leaving a mark that would remind everyone of the importance of living a life rooted in love and morality.

I hope my two sons remember me as a good father who did what he thought was right and necessary, always striving to be a positive influence in their lives. I want them to recall the moments we spent together, the lessons I tried to impart, and the values I hoped to instill in them so they can live a good and productive life filled with integrity, kindness, and perseverance. It’s my wish that they carry forward the teachings of hard work and compassion, using these principles as their foundation in navigating the complexities of the world as they grow older and make their own decisions.

I hope my spouses do not regret that the years they spent with me were good years together, full of fond memories and shared experiences, nurturing our bond as a family and building a solid foundation for our future. I wish for them to reflect on the moments of joy, laughter, and even the challenges we faced, knowing that all of it contributed to a rich tapestry of life we created together, and that they look back at our time together with a sense of fulfillment and appreciation, rather than any sense of regret.

I hope my stepchildren do not regret that I came into their lives and can call me stepdad with pride, knowing that I am committed to being a positive and supportive presence in their journey. My aim is to build a strong bond with each of them, filled with love, trust, and respect. I want them to feel comfortable sharing their thoughts and dreams with me, fostering an environment where they can grow and thrive. As we create lasting memories together, I aspire to be someone they can rely on, offering guidance and understanding as they navigate the complexities of life.

I hope all the other people I have come in contact with can say, “he was a good man!” Throughout my life, I have strived to embody kindness and integrity in everything I do, making a concerted effort to lend a helping hand or offer a listening ear when needed. It’s my desire that those who crossed paths with me will remember not just the surface-level interactions, but the genuine compassion and understanding I aimed to share with them. In reflecting on my journey, I hope they can recall moments of laughter, heartfelt conversations, and the small gestures that made a difference, ultimately leading to the sentiment that I was indeed a good man.

What do you think? I noticed that the podcasts have more than doubled in length. That is understandable because it has been difficult for me to enumerate on a topic.

Daily writing prompt
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?
View all responses

How Many Email Address’s Do You Have?


Audio PODCAST

The Accumulation of Email Addresses: A Modern Digital Phenomenon

In today’s digital age, the accumulation of email addresses by individuals has become a significant and widespread phenomenon. From personal to professional, and from temporary to permanent, the number of email addresses one might acquire can be quite extensive. Here’s a look at why and how people end up with multiple email addresses.

Why Multiple Email Addresses?

  1. Personal Use:
    • Primary Personal Email: Most individuals start with one email address for general personal use, which might be used for social media, personal correspondence, or shopping.
    • Spam Management: Many people create additional email addresses specifically for less important or potentially spam-generating activities, like signing up for newsletters or online promotions.
  2. Professional Needs:
    • Work Email: Employment often necessitates a professional email address provided by the company. This can change with each job or even within the same company as one’s role evolves.
    • Freelancers and Entrepreneurs: Those with multiple gigs or businesses might have separate emails for each venture to keep their professional communications organized.
  3. Privacy and Security:
    • Disposable Emails: For privacy concerns or to avoid spam, people might use services that offer temporary email addresses that can be discarded after use.
    • Activity-Specific Emails: Some prefer different emails for different types of online activities (e.g., one for banking, another for gaming).
  4. Educational Purposes:
    • Student Emails: Educational institutions often provide email addresses to students which might be used for academic purposes and then abandoned or retained for alumni networks.
  5. Digital Footprint Reduction:
    • Anonymous Use: Creating new email addresses can help manage one’s digital footprint, allowing individuals to segment their online presence for different purposes without cross-contamination of personal data.

How Many is Too Many?

The number of email addresses one might acquire can vary widely:

  • Minimalists: Some might stick to just one or two email addresses, valuing simplicity and ease of management.
  • Average Users: Many might have between three to five, covering personal, work, and perhaps a couple for privacy or spam management.
  • Digital Enthusiasts: Tech-savvy or privacy-conscious individuals might have upwards of ten or more, tailored for specific uses or to maintain anonymity across different platforms.

Management Challenges

With each email address comes the challenge of management:

  • Password Management: Keeping track of passwords for multiple accounts.
  • Email Overload: The risk of information overload, where managing multiple inboxes becomes a task in itself.
  • Identity Consistency: Ensuring that the use of different emails does not lead to confusion or loss of important communications.

In conclusion, the proliferation of email addresses in one’s digital life reflects not just the expansion of personal and professional spheres but also an increased awareness of privacy, security, and digital management needs. While having multiple email addresses serves various practical purposes, it also demands a level of organization and vigilance to ensure that each serves its intended purpose without overwhelming the user. As digital practices evolve, so too will the strategies for handling the myriad emails that populate our inboxes, turning the management of email addresses into an art form of the digital era.

Ramblings Magazine Issue #10

Audio PODCAST

Readable PDF FILE LINK

TGIF

Audio PODCAST

Thank God It’s Friday: A Celebration of the Weekend.

There’s a phrase that makes the whole world chuckle and do a little happy dance, a joyous shout that signifies the sweet escape from the 9-to-5 struggle: Thank God It’s Friday! Often squished into the catchy acronym TGIF, this isn’t just a fun little saying—it’s like a universal cheer that celebrates us finally throwing our workweek shackles off and diving headfirst into the glorious abyss of sleeping in, binge-watching shows, and having more fun than a cat in a room full of laser pointers.

The phrase “Thank God It’s Friday” has roots that stretch back decades, with its popularity skyrocketing in the United States during the 20th century, likely fueled by everyone’s undying desire to escape the nine-to-five grind. While we can’t quite pinpoint its exact origin—perhaps a disgruntled office worker shouted it during a coffee break—it’s believed to have gained traction around the mid-20th century when the five-day workweek became the norm. For weary workers, Friday was like spotting a unicorn: it meant trading in early mornings and relentless deadlines for two days of glorious freedom, where the most stressful decision was whether to binge-watch a series or take a nap (spoiler: it’s usually both).

The phrase got a major makeover in pop culture thanks to the 1978 disco spectacle Thank God It’s Friday, featuring the fabulous Donna Summer and the ever-charming Jeff Goldblum. This film, which revolves around a party at a nightclub on a Friday night, transformed TGIF into the ultimate battle cry for weekend warriors everywhere. Meanwhile, the restaurant chain TGI Fridays—which made its debut in 1965—jumped on the TGIF bandwagon, positioning itself as the ideal pit stop for those seeking to kick off the weekend with a hearty dose of food, drinks, and a side of good vibes, because nothing says “party” like a burger and a cocktail, right?

What is it about Friday that sparks such universal glee? Psychologically speaking, it’s like seeing the light at the end of a very long, boring tunnel. After five days of adulting and pretending to care, Friday bursts onto the scene like a party-crashing superhero, signaling our sweet escape. Studies suggest that people’s moods skyrocket as the weekend peeks around the corner, making Friday the happiest day—sorry, Monday, better luck next time! It’s not just about 休息 (xiūxi, rest)—it’s a buffet of possibilities. Will you kick back with a glass of wine, couch-surf through Netflix like a pro, or shake your groove thing until the neighbors wonder if there’s a disco in your living room? The choice is yours, and that freedom is more intoxicating than a triple shot of espresso on a Monday morning!

For many, Friday comes with a social battery that’s fully charged. It’s the magical night when friends converge at bars like moths to a flame, families settle in for a dinner so leisurely you could almost take a nap between bites, and coworkers clink their glasses in celebration of not having melted down during the week. The phrase “Thank God It’s Friday” isn’t just a shout-out to a higher power—it’s a big high-five to the calendar for finally dragging us to this glorious finish line!

I am glad I don’t have to wait for TGIF. After all, I have been retired for nineteen years, which has given me the luxury of savoring each moment without the constraints of a conventional work schedule. For me, every day is Saturday, filled with the joys of leisurely breakfasts, spontaneous outings, and the freedom to pursue hobbies I never had time for before. I relish the ability to wake up whenever I please, enjoy a cup of coffee while watching the sunrise, and spend my afternoons indulging in my passions, be it gardening, painting, or simply enjoying a good book. This freedom allows me to embrace life fully and appreciate the beauty of each day and do what I really enjoy these days is writing and blogging in cyberspace.

As of today, February 28, 2025, it’s a Friday—a fabulous day to bust out your best TGIF dance moves! Whether you’re wrapping up work or just reveling in the glorious shift of your mood, take a second to shout: Thank God It’s Friday! It’s not merely a catchphrase; it’s a joyful scream for freedom! Here’s to Fridays—may they always sprinkle a little confetti into our weeks. Cheers to that, and may your coffee be strong and your meetings be short!

Charlie the Squirrel.

 Audio PODCAST

Here is a story from the unique perspective of a squirrel: 

The sun had just begun to peek over the treetops, casting a golden glow through the leaves of my Locust tree home. I twitched my bushy tail, feeling the morning chill that nipped at my fur, and with each flick of my tail, I felt more alive. I leaped from branch to branch with the agility only a squirrel could muster, the thrill of the leap sending a rush of adrenaline through my small frame. Below, the world was waking up, the distant sounds of birds chirping harmonizing with the gentle rustle of the leaves. The rich scent of dew-soaked grass filled the air, invigorating me further, but up here, I was already on the hunt, scanning the ground for acorns or the slightest movement that might signal a rival. As the sunlight intensified, the forest came alive with vibrant colors, and I reveled in the beauty surrounding me, my heart racing with anticipation of what the day might bring.

My name is Charlie, and today was like any other day in the grand scheme of things, but to me, every day was an adventure. My mission? To find the most exquisite morsels of food this neighborhood has to offer. Natural morsels or leftovers from humans weren’t just food; they were treasure, each one a small victory in the grand game of survival. 

I scampered down the trunk, my claws digging into the rough bark, my eyes darting around for signs of danger or opportunity. The neighborhood floor was a mosaic of grass, bushes and shadows, and I knew every crack and crevice where food might hide.  

There, under the shadow of a bush, I spotted it—a perfect, unblemished morsel. I dashed to it, my heart racing with excitement. But no sooner had I grabbed it than I heard the rustle of leaves behind me. I spun around, a meal clutched in my paws, to see a rival, another squirrel, eyeing my prize.  

The chase was on! We zipped through the underbrush, over sidewalks, and around trees. I could hear his breath, feel the wind of his tail against mine. We were equals in speed and cunning, but I was driven by the fierce desire to claim that morsel for my winter stash. 

I darted up a pine tree, knowing its rough bark would be harder for him to climb. I scampered to the top, balancing on the needles, and finally, he gave up, descending back to the ground. I watched him go, my heart pounding with victory, then carefully, I made my way back to my home. 

With my prize secured in my cheek, I looked out over the neighborhood. The sun was higher now, the day warming up. Below, humans walked their paths, unaware of the dramas unfolding above them. But up here, in the squirrel world, every morsel was a story, every chase a chapter in the endless book of life. 

I tucked my morsel away in my secret cache, hidden among the branches. Then, with a flick of my tail, I was off again, because in the life of a squirrel, there’s no time to rest—there’s always another meal to find, another adventure to live.  

Us squirrels must also be on the lookout for the not so friendly animals that want to make us a healthy meal for them. Almost every day I see the local fox travel through the neighborhood looking for a fresh meal. Sometimes I see an occasional coyote and once a possum journeyed through. I am old enough to remember when the neighborhood was loaded with rabbits. Those carnivorous animals have made many meals out of the rabbit population. I am lucky, I can climb trees and evade them where rabbits do not have that luxury.  

And so, the hunt continues until the sun sets and the moon rises to watch over us all. 

Finding Inspiration in Life

audio PODCAST

Life is a beautiful, chaotic, and unpredictable journey. It’s a tapestry woven with threads of joy, sorrow, triumph, and challenge, each stitch contributing to the masterpiece that is uniquely yours. In a world that often feels overwhelming, it’s easy to lose sight of the magic hidden in the mundane, the lessons tucked into the struggles, and the inspiration waiting just beyond the horizon. But if we pause, breathe, and look closer, we’ll find that life itself is the greatest source of inspiration.

One of the most profound truths about life is that it’s imperfect—and that’s what makes it extraordinary. We often chase ideals of perfection, whether in our careers, relationships, or personal growth, only to realize that the cracks, the flaws, and the unexpected detours are where the real beauty lies. Think of a weathered tree, its gnarled branches telling stories of storms survived and seasons endured. Its imperfections are its strength, its character, its story. Similarly, our imperfections are not weaknesses; they are proof of resilience, growth, and the courage to keep moving forward.

Embrace your imperfections. They are the brushstrokes that make your life’s painting unique. Every scar, every mistake, every moment of doubt is a testament to the fact that you’ve lived, loved, and dared to try. Inspiration doesn’t come from achieving perfection—it comes from embracing the messy, beautiful reality of being human.

Life’s most profound inspirations often hide in the smallest moments. The warmth of sunlight streaming through your window on a quiet morning. The laughter of a loved one echoing through the room. The smell of rain on the earth after a long, dry spell. These fleeting, ordinary moments are the heartbeat of life, reminding us that happiness doesn’t always require grand gestures or monumental achievements. Sometimes, it’s found in the simplicity of just being.

Take a moment today to notice the small things. Pause to watch the way the wind dances with the leaves, or listen to the rhythm of your own breath. These moments are gifts, and they are everywhere if we choose to see them. Inspiration isn’t reserved for mountaintops or life-changing events—it’s woven into the fabric of the everyday.

Life is not without its challenges. We all face storms that threaten to uproot us, moments of doubt that make us question our path, and losses that leave us aching. But it’s in these moments of adversity that we discover our strength. Resilience is not the absence of struggle; it’s the courage to rise again, to keep walking even when the road feels impossible.

Think of the countless stories of human triumph—people who have faced unimaginable odds and emerged stronger, wiser, and more compassionate. Their stories remind us that we, too, have the capacity to endure, to adapt, and to grow. Every challenge you face is an opportunity to uncover a deeper layer of yourself, to find inspiration in your own strength. You are more resilient than you know, and every step forward, no matter how small, is a victory.

At its core, life is about connection. The relationships we build, the love we share, and the communities we create are what give life its richness and meaning. Whether it’s a deep conversation with a friend, a kind word from a stranger, or the silent understanding between you and someone you love, these connections remind us that we are not alone.

In a world that often feels divided, connection is a radical act of inspiration. Reach out to someone today. Share a smile, a story, or a moment of vulnerability. These small acts ripple outward, creating waves of kindness and understanding that can change the world, one heart at a time.

Inspiration comes from living with purpose. Purpose doesn’t have to be grand or world-changing—it can be as simple as showing up fully in your own life, pursuing what lights you up, and contributing to the world in your own unique way. Ask yourself: What makes your heart sing? What legacy do you want to leave behind? Purpose is not a destination; it’s a compass that guides you through life’s twists and turns.

Find your purpose, however big or small, and let it inspire you to live intentionally. Whether it’s creating art, nurturing relationships, or simply being a source of light for others, your purpose is your gift to the world.

Life is a gift, a fleeting, precious opportunity to explore, to love, to grow, and to inspire. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. So, take a deep breath, look around, and let yourself be inspired by the miracle of your own existence. You are here, you are alive, and that alone is a reason to celebrate.

Embrace the journey, with all its imperfections, challenges, and joys. Find inspiration in the small moments, the connections, and the resilience that defines you. And remember: your life, with all its unique twists and turns, is a story worth telling—a story that has the power to inspire others, just as it inspires you.

Your life is yours alone. No one before you and after you will never have a life the same as yours. The life you save may be your own.

IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE ABOUT MY LIFE, CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW.

My Story, The good, The Bad and the strange. LINK

Inspirations to Comment About Anything

Audio PODCAST

What Sparks the Pen: My Inspiration to Write Right Now. Writing is a curious thing. Sometimes it flows like a river after a storm, unstoppable and wild; other times, it’s a trickle, barely coaxing itself onto the page. Today, though, I’m compelled to write—not out of duty or habit, but because something’s stirring inside me, a spark that demands to be fanned into flame. So, what’s inspiring me to sit down and craft this article at this exact moment? Let’s unravel it.

First, there’s you—the reader. The idea that someone, somewhere, might stumble across these words and find a flicker of connection or curiosity is a quiet but powerful motivator. I imagine you pausing mid-scroll, maybe sipping coffee or leaning back in a creaky chair, wondering what I’ve got to say. That imagined moment between us, where my thoughts meet yours, feels like a bridge worth building. It’s not about fame or applause; it’s about that small, human exchange that words can ignite.

Then there’s the world buzzing around us. It’s February 25, 2025, and the air feels thick with change—ideas clashing, stories unfolding, questions begging for answers. Every day brings a flood of voices, from the relentless hum of social media to the headlines screaming for attention. Amid that noise, writing feels like a way to carve out a corner of clarity. I’m inspired by the chance to sift through the chaos, to pluck out a thread of meaning and weave it into something coherent, maybe even useful. Today, that thread is inspiration itself—a meta little loop, sure, but one that’s tugging at me nonetheless.

There’s also the itch of creativity, that restless nudge that says, “Make something.” It’s not always loud or dramatic—sometimes it’s just a whisper, a fleeting urge to play with words like they’re puzzle pieces. Right now, that urge is alive, tickling my mind with possibilities. What if I string this sentence just so? What if I turn this thought upside down? Writing becomes a game, a dance, a chance to surprise myself. And honestly, the fact that I can—that I’ve got the tools and the freedom to spin ideas into existence—feels like a gift I’d be foolish to ignore.

But if I’m being real, there’s something deeper too. I’m inspired by the questions that won’t leave me alone. What moves people? What keeps us going when the days get heavy? Writing this article feels like a way to poke at those mysteries, to wrestle with them in the open. It’s not about having all the answers—heck, I don’t even have most of them—but about chasing the questions with a kind of stubborn wonder. Today, that wonders got me by the collar, urging me to spill it onto the page.

I go in streaks. There are moments where I feel incredibly motivated and inspired, as if a flood of creativity has been unleashed, filling my mind with a multitude of thoughts and ideas that I can’t wait to put on paper. It’s during these bursts of inspiration that my fingers dance over the keyboard, producing words that flow effortlessly, capturing the essence of my thoughts in a vivid way. Then there are moments of writer’s block that may extend for long periods, where it feels like my mind is trapped in a fog, and the once vibrant ideas retreat into the shadows, leaving me frustrated and yearning for the spark of creativity. Yet, just when I begin to feel defeated, it seems like a supernatural voice comes to me, whispering encouragement and helping me find the next comment about anything, reigniting the flame of inspiration and giving me the words to express myself once more.

And maybe there’s a bit of defiance in it. The world is chaotic, full of noise and distractions, and writing feels like marking my spot—however small. It’s a way of saying, “This matters to me, and I’ll shape it my way.” Not to show off, but to claim a little space where I can think freely. That quiet rebellion, that choice to create instead of consume, inspires me right now.

So here I am, tapping out these words, driven by a cocktail of connection, curiosity, creativity, and a pinch of stubbornness. What inspires me to write this article at this moment? It’s you, it’s the world, it’s the itch I can’t scratch any other way. It’s the hope that by the time I’m done, I’ll have figured out something new—or at least enjoyed the ride. And if you’re still here with me, maybe you’ll feel a spark of your own. That’d be more than enough.

My Favorite people

Audio PODCAST

First, My wife Dee. We have been together since the early eighties and decided to marry in 1995. We were both going through divorces, feeling the weight of our pasts, yet somehow, we managed to pick each other up and help each other understand that there is indeed life after an unplanned life-changing event. Through the ups and downs, we became each other’s support system, navigating the complexities of our emotions, and finding solace in our shared experiences. We have been one for over forty years now, creating a tapestry of memories woven from countless trips across the nation and two unforgettable journeys to Italy during those four decades. Each adventure brought us closer, as we explored new places together, indulging in the local cuisine and appreciating the beauty of different cultures. Now, as we embrace our senior years, we continue to enjoy being together, finding joy in the simple moments, and enduring the various events that life presents at this stage. The best part of all these years is that we have allowed each of us to be ourselves, fostering an environment of authenticity. We have built a relationship where there are no false fronts, no role-playing—just the freedom to be myself and her as herself. This genuine connection has made our lives profoundly fulfilling. Life has been great since Dee, and I cherish every moment we share, knowing that our love is a testament to resilience and companionship.

Second, is my two sons, Jeff and Adam, and my four stepchildren, Rick, Rob, Rita, and Renee. They have all been blessings in our lives, filling our days with joy and laughter. Each of them has forged their own unique paths and built wonderful families of their own, and I truly enjoy when we gather together to reminisce about past memories and celebrate upcoming milestones. These family reunions are particularly special, as they create a warm atmosphere where stories are shared, and laughter echoes. With them comes their families—loving partners, enthusiastic children, adorable grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren who bring an extra layer of joy to our gatherings. They are bonuses that we have been blessed with, enriching our lives in ways that words cannot fully capture, and reminding us of the importance of family bonds that transcend generations.
Every moment spent together is a treasured gift, creating a tapestry of love and connection that we are fortunate to share.

Third, are friends that have crossed our paths and enriched our lives in meaningful ways. I enjoy Dolores and her daughter Darlene, who bring a warmth and joy to every gathering. They are cherished church friends whom we met on one of our many enriching trips. Tom, Dolores’s husband, has passed on, leaving behind fond memories that we often share in his honor. After church services, they host delightful coffee and snacks in the fellowship hall, where I eagerly participate, as it gives us the chance to connect and share events in our lives that shape our experiences. There’s always a new story to tell or a laugh to be shared, deepening our bond not just as friends but as a community. Can’t forget Chuck, who is another good friend from a different church setting. A group of 10 to 12 men get together once a month for breakfast, a tradition that I look forward to immensely. I always attempt to sit next to Chuck, as his insights and humor make our conversations engaging; we take the time to reflect on what is happening in our lives, whether it’s personal milestones or challenges we face. Finally, there is Gary, an old-time friend with whom I enjoy the occasional meet-up to discuss politics and the current events that shape our world. Our discussions often dive deep into our differing perspectives yet are underpinned by mutual respect and understanding. It is strange how you can click with some individuals and genuinely enjoy being around them, as if they were meant to be part of your journey, adding richness and depth to the fabric of our lives.

Unfortunately, Stan, Jack, Len, and others have passed on, leaving a profound void in my life. Their laughter, wisdom, and friendship will always be cherished and remembered fondly. I will always remember them, not just for the moments we shared but for the invaluable lessons they imparted, shaping who we are today. Their spirits continue to inspire me, reminding me to celebrate life and the connections we form with those we hold dear.

Daily writing prompt
Who are your favorite people to be around?
View all responses

Not Much to Remember Today

Audio PODCAST

Title: The Quiet Day: When Nothing Very Important Happened on February 11th

February 11th has had its share of headline-making moments throughout history, but let’s take a moment to appreciate the quieter side of this date. Today, we’re not here to delve into the monumental events or the groundbreaking discoveries; instead, we’re celebrating the ordinary, the mundane, and the blissfully uneventful.

A Day Like Any Other

Imagine waking up on February 11th to find the world much as you left it the day before. No major political upheavals, no scientific breakthroughs announced, just the regular hum of daily life. The sun rises, people go to work, birds chirp, and life ticks along at its usual pace. It’s comforting in its predictability, isn’t it?

The Beauty in the Mundane

There’s something inherently beautiful about days when nothing very important happens. It’s a reminder that not every day needs to be marked by history. Sometimes, the most significant event of the day might be the first bloom of spring, a quiet walk in the park, or the simple joy of a shared meal with family or friends. These are the moments that make up the fabric of our lives, woven together with threads of routine and simplicity.

Local News and Daily Life

On this day, local news might consist of a cat stuck in a tree being rescued by firefighters, a community garden project getting new volunteers, or a high school sports team winning a local match. These snippets of life are the heartbeat of our communities, reminding us of the connections we share and the small stories that matter deeply to those involved.

The Uncelebrated Heroes

February 11th might also be a day where unsung heroes shine. Perhaps a teacher went the extra mile to help a struggling student, or a neighbor quietly shoveled the snow off another’s driveway. These acts of kindness don’t make headlines, but they are the quiet forces that keep the world turning with compassion and empathy.

A Reflection on Nothingness

In a world often obsessed with achievement and spectacle, there’s a lesson in embracing the days where nothing very important happens. It teaches us to find joy in the present moment, to appreciate the peace that comes with uneventfulness, and to recognize that every day doesn’t need to be extraordinary to be meaningful.

Conclusion

So, here’s to February 11th, a day in the annals of time where we can take a breath, look around, and appreciate that sometimes, the absence of monumental events is an event in itself. It’s a day to celebrate the ordinary, to enjoy the tranquility of routine, and to find beauty in the quiet moments that make life truly rich. Here’s to the days when nothing very important happens – they are, in their own way, as noteworthy as any other.

Ramblings Magazine Issue #6 podcast

Podcast LINK

Hard copy LINK

Hello Ramblings Magazine reader Welcome!

This is a podcast of the sixth issue of Ramblings Magazine.

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The Headings are:

Happenings plus time equals your life.

It will not happen in my life.

Computers and internet.

February 7, 2023.

Time for Spring.

M and M’s.

My interests have changed.

Amazing news.

My dream came true.

King for a day.

Remembering my parents.

I am just a mere mortal.

Patriotism.

A gift of life.

I do not have a favorite shoe.

A three-letter middle name.

100 years ago.

I am addicted to computers and the internet.

I survived the March 14 record snowstorm.

I am ready for spring.

Easter thoughts.

Retirement years.

The necessities of starting the day.

A dog, cat, or what?

Just be myself.

Hormones in high school.

X, formerly twitter and their grok feature.

Photo memories.

That’s it for this issue. Hope to see you next issue

Have a nice day!

Ramblings Magazine Issue #5 Podcast

Ramblings Magazine Issue #5 Podcast

Ramblings Magazine Issue #5 PDF file

Hello Ramblings Magazine reader! Welcome!  

This is a podcast of the fifth issue of Ramblings Magazine.  

The Headings are: 

Memories of Faith. 

Comments on Christmas and Holidays. 

What’s Next? 

Cars in My Life. 

A Good Leader. 

No Dream Job for Me. 

I Was Named After? 

I Don’t Have a Pet. 

Life is Fun. 

Something I Missed. 

Decision. 

The Lottery and Me. 

Complaints, Complaints, Complaints. 

Heights. 

Vintage Computer. 

Cleaning Out Files. 

I Avoid the Kitchen. 

Fifteen Years

I have received notice from WordPress that I have been on this site for fifteen years.

Where does the time go?

PODCASTS

BOOKS

Proud to be an American

Audio Link

I remember when I was going to elementary school and sometimes, I would arrive when the flag was being raised for the school day. We would stop and pay respect to the flag until it was raised. I was proud to be an American. You would stand in an assembly and say The Pledge of Allegiant. Again, I was proud to be an American. You learned in school the history of America, and this made you proud to be an American. 

I was drafted into the army in 1964. In basic training I crawled through mud trying to keep that damn M-14 rifle clean so it would not jam. I could not take a leave for the Thanksgiving of 1964 because I was told it was critical that I go to Germany. Many nights I froze my butt standing guard on German soil protecting America from the Soviet threat. Vietnam deployment constantly hovered over my head when I was in the army. I would have gone to Vietnam if called. Why? I would have gone because I am proud to be an American. 

Throughout my life there have been many events that made me proud that I am a member of this country. I will be proud to be buried in Fort Logan National Cemetery when that time comes. 

I have noticed a few things that bother me. For example, I lived close to an elementary school where I can see the flagpole in the daytime. Many days the flag is not raised when school is in session. I guess putting out the flag in the morning is not a priority anymore. I recently attended a school function at my grandsons’ school and the principal forgot about the color guard waiting in the hall to present the flag. Some teacher had to remind her about them. I guess that was not that important to her. It did not take me forty years to be proud of this country.  

Illegal immigration is a serious problem. There are millions of people who want to come to America and live the American dream. To me that means that life must be pretty good here. Today is the day for everyone that put their life on the line protecting all that live in the country. If it wasn’t for them this country and the freedoms, you take for granted would not exist.

Happy Veterans Day!

Ramblings Magazine Issue #4 Podcast

Ramblings Magazine Issue #4 PODCAST

Ramblings Magazine Issue #4 pdf file

Hello Ramblings Magazine reader! Welcome!  

This is a podcast of the fourth issue of Ramblings Magazine.  

The Headings are: 

A continuation of “A Journey of Faith and Religion” 

Military Memories and Veterans Day 

Touched by God 

H O A Board Member Tales 

Flu Shot, yes, or no? 

Thanksgiving Memories 

Hope you enjoy it! 

My Heritage

Podcast

My mother’s heritage is of German descent. My father’s heritage is of English descent. If their families did not immigrate to America, I would not be here. My mother was born in Minnesota and her mother was from Bavaria Germany. My dad was born in Iowa and his roots trace back to England, Scotland areas. They met in Colorado, married and seven years later my time on earth began. This is an abbreviated version of my parents’ story.

My mother’s mother immigrated to America sometime in 1890. All I have heard was that she was seven years old at that time and she came from the Bavaria Germany area. I never heard who she came with or how she ended up in Minnesota. During that time, I read somewhere that many children were sold to couples that were going to America those days so that child could have a better life than what was going in Germany at that time. I will never know the true facts on this history. My DNA tests show that 42% of my heritage is of German Descent.

My father’s heritage is from England and the Scotland area. My dad had an uncle that traced their heritage to Cornwall England back to 1532. That area apparently had tin mines and as the need for tin diminished and many started to immigrate to greener pastures. Many moved to Australia and America. My dad’s family migrated to America before the Civil War and sometime ended up in Iowa as farmers. My DNA shows that 49% of my heritage is of English descent.

The remaining 8% DNA shows Scandanavian, Norway, Sweden Area heritage or Viking history.

With that, I am most interested in my grandma’s history. How did she get to America and who did she come with? What part of Bavaria did she come from? Also, where did the Viking heritage come from? Were my relatives’ victims of the Vikings when they were attacking and pillaging England? I doubt I will ever know anything about this history.

I am proud that my families were able to live and suffer the adversities of immigrating to another country and start a new life that is the base of the life I have been very fortunate to live. This is the last frontier. If things go bad, there is not a wild frontier in the world. It will be up to the ones living here to fix the country.

Daily writing prompt
What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?
View all responses

Fall is Here

podcast audio

This morning was the first time the furnace went on early in the morning. The low temperature was forty-four degrees. For the last four-five months we are accustomed to sleeping with only a light sheet over us and the ceiling fan on low. Last night, no ceiling fan and a light comforter. Looking across the street I can see that the neighbors leaves on their trees are starting to turn yellow. The bees were not out this morning. You could see that the flowers are making their last stand before the first freeze. Time to start harvesting the flower seeds for next spring planting.

I am not ready for cold weather. As I age the winters are becoming harder to endure. I like to be outside as long as I am not cold and uncomfortable. Since I have been prescribed blood thinners, I get cold very easy. I easily acquire cabin fever. The cold winters months are hard on me staying inside and hoping for an early spring. Thinking about the high cost of utility bills depresses me. The H O A provides snow removal, at least I don’t have to do that unless the snow is under three inches. Driving on slippery streets is dangerous and stressful. Is it spring yet?

So, what can I do about it? Well, we could move to Pheonix like many of our neighbors. Thought about that, but family trumps that. All our family is less than fifty miles away from where we live now and that is the deciding factor of not moving. Therefore, what is left? The thing that I do best, moan and groan and complain about it to anyone that will listen. Oh, I will probably live through winter, and I will think. It really wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

Have a nice day.

Self-Publishing a Book

Podcast

Everyone has a book! Every public figure appears to have a book. Politicians, news commentators, TV stars and many other have a book for sale. They may be written by ghost writers, but they have a book.

For a long time, I had a dream of creating a book. However, I knew it would be virtually impossible to entice a major publisher to even consider a project from me. My ego is larger than my abilities and I shelved the dream of publishing a book.

I cannot remember how I stumbled onto Blurb Books. I think it happened when I was blogging on YourHub.com. This was a web site for The Rocky Mountain News, a newspaper in the Denver metro area. I think a fellow blogger mentioned Blurb Books to me and I went to their website.

My wife and I took a trip to Italy, and I wanted to create a book about our adventure. In June of 2008 I created my first book on Blurb Books. LINK

Since then, I have published over twenty creations on Blurb Books. They have many tools you can use to create your own book.

I have used their publishing software in the past until I discovered that you can now use the PDF format and send the file to them, and they can create your book. I use Microsoft Power Point to create my book and save as a PDF file and it has worked out very well.

You can keep your books private or sell them in their bookstore. Or you can set them up to sell on Amazon or Ingram. You can set your profit margin. You must remember though that you are responsible for the grammar and spelling, the photo resolutions and everything else. Therefore, proof and then again. They print what you approve!

https://www.blurb.com/bookstore

Here is my latest book LINK

For the price around a Starbuck’s latte, you can download a PDF file of this 226-page book.

Why have beards become so popular?
TomT2.0

Hello, this is TomT2.0. I have wondered why beards have become so popular. Therefore, I went to the local the AI for some comments. This is what AI came up with.

Ah, the great beard renaissance of the 21st century! Here’s why humanity has decided to embrace the facial fur with such fervor:

  • Masculine Identity: In an era where traditional masculine norms have been under scrutiny, beards have become a symbol of masculinity. It’s like men are saying, “I’m not just a guy; I’m a man with a beard that could house a small ecosystem.”
  • Cultural Trends and Media Influence: Remember when every TV show had at least one character with a beard so majestic it could be seen from space? Shows like “Duck Dynasty” or the rugged looks of actors like Tom Hardy have set the trend. If TV says beards are cool, well, who are we to argue with the small screen?
  • Perceived Health and Dominance: There’s a notion, backed by some studies, that beards make men look healthier, older, and more dominant. It’s like nature’s way of saying, “This guy might have survived a few more winters than you think.”
  • The Hipster Effect: Beards became a staple in hipster culture, symbolizing a rejection of mainstream grooming standards. If you’re going to be different, why not start with your face?
  • Historical Cycles: Beards go in and out of fashion like bell-bottom jeans. We’ve seen cycles where beards were all the rage, then vanished, only to return with a vengeance. It’s almost as if facial hair has its own sense of fashion timing.
  • Social media and Beard Envy: Platforms like Instagram have turned beard care into an art form. Men see these beards, think, “I could be that guy,” and thus, the beard trend spreads like wildfire.
  • Backlash to Grooming Norms: There’s a bit of rebellion in growing a beard. It’s like saying, “I refuse to conform to the clean-shaven corporate look.” It’s facial hair as a statement of individuality.
  • Scientific Reasons: Some studies suggest beards might have evolved as a signal in mate selection, indicating good genetics or health. Plus, there’s the theory that beards might have protected men’s faces in fights, making them more appealing to potential mates.
  • Economic and Lifestyle Changes: After economic downturns, there’s often a trend towards more rugged, ‘survivor’ looks. Beards fit into this narrative of resilience and toughness.

So, why are beards popular? It’s a mix of fashion, rebellion, science, and a dash of wanting to look like you could survive a zombie apocalypse. But remember, while beards might be in vogue now, give it time, and we might all be back to smooth faces, wondering what the fuss was about. Human trends, much like beards, are cyclical and often, delightfully unpredictable.

In conclusion, my blogging offers audio or reading, your decision. Have a nice day. Contact me at mail@tomt2.com.

Just A Mere Mortal

As the days and years go by, I have come to the conclusion that I am just a mere mortal. Am I going to do anything or write anything that leaves a lasting impression on this world? I kind of doubt it.

I have had a good life experience. I was raised by loving parents and did not have to suffer any hardships and tragedies in my growing up years. I was able to work and provide for the two sons I fathered. I served my country with time in the army. Marriage and family life have entered my life twice. I am still experiencing my second marital journey. Over eighteen years of retirement life and I sense more years of this journey on this earth.

Over a year ago I survived a medical near-death experience. During the recuperation period I thought that there must have been a reason for surviving. It has been over a year now and I am still searching for the reason. I am beginning to think the only reason I survived was to experience and learn from that near death encounter.

With that said, I am just a mere mortal and will do what mere mortals do and that is to attempt to live a good life.

Daily writing prompt
If humans had taglines, what would yours be?
View all responses