Spank Thru

So exactly what I was afraid would happen, has, in fact happened.

I don't know what to write about.

It's always been my curse, and these always end up rambling, wandering diatribes, sort of about something, before I wind off course and end awkwardly.

*Insert sex joke here*

As we enter the next phase of our lives, it may become necessary for me to develop this topic generating skill. I need to find a way to hone it - any content marketer worth his salt is going to be able to generate in-demand topics for a client. I just need to find a process.

Mr. Clean

The great thing about having kids is that no matter how often you sweep the kitchen floor, it's always dirty.

Because a cracker just doesn't taste as good unless it's been rolled around in foot detritus for a while.

That's really where us adults get it all wrong.

Working Man's Blues

I didn't post anything last night. I'm guilty, though in my defense, I worked 12 hours and left my laptop at work when I crawled out of here - so in the end, it would have been a mobile post, and you can only guess how substantial that would have been.

I'll have more tonight.

Stress Tout

It's been a challenging couple of days. I need an outlet. I need to play music. I need to blow off some steam.

With that being said, I'm pretty proud of myself for getting the laptop out four days in a row now. I don't think it's "paying dividends" yet - my writing hasn't become structured or anything, and I'm certainly not planning these posts before I write them, but in forcing myself to participate in this exercise, I'm using muscles that would otherwise fade away into a pool of corporate, middle management melange. (Did I use melange correctly? Eh, I don't feel like checking... I'll just assume I did.)

At any rate. The last few days have been exhausting, if I felt truly comfortable unloading here, I could pour my heart out for tens of thousands of words, but I just don't have it in me.

I'll leave it at this: family is hard. But it's an effort you have to make.

Good night, my zero readers. I'm enjoying this, I hope at least someone else does someday.

Oh Hell

Today was a nightmare, almost from the word go.

I don't think I have it in me to lay it out here. It's a long, painful story, dating back 25 years. 25 years of hurt, disappointment and sadness.

Today was more of the same and nothing changes.

Looking back at yesterday's post, one thing I'm certain of, if grandpa was still around, none of this would have happened. If everything happens for a reason, I'm struggling to understand the reasoning here.

Fuck this day. Fuck it to death.

Looking Back Now

I was going to write about something mundane, challenging myself to be more physically and fiscally fit or something like that, but the Mrs. just posed an interesting question, which got me thinking. So I'm going to spend the next few paragraphs engaging myself in a thought exercise. Feel free to tag along.

While working at the dining room table, my wife looked up at a picture of my grandpa and wondered if he would have liked her. If he would have liked our family. My family's generally pretty excellent, so I have little doubt he would have liked them just fine - but what about me? What would be think of me if he were still around?

My grandpa died when in 1985 when I was 4. At the time of his passing, my mother, sister and I were living with him and my grandma in Connecticut. My mom had broken up with my dad and gotten laid off from work, so she was having a great couple of months, and she took us East to figure things out.

Looking back, I'm glad I got those last several months with him, he was the last, and only, positive male role model I had in my life, basically ever - I hadn't considered that point in a while... yikes - so in a lot of ways, it made a hefty impression on me. But at the same time, I can't say I ever knew him or the kind of man he really was. Everyone speaks kindly of him, but few ever speak ill of the dead. I'm not saying I really doubt any of them, just that I wish I'd known for myself.

I know the kind of person I've grown up to be. Would he accept me for who I've become, or would I have even turned out this way if he hadn't died when he did? When the layoffs ended, I'm sure my mom would have moved us back here and taken her old job back, but she was never going to get back together with my dad, so that wouldn't have changed. My grandma would have had no reason to move back here with us, so we wouldn't have bought the house my sister and I grew up in. There's no telling what my mom would have done, where we would have ended up. It goes without saying, that it would be a very different me looking through these lenses at 35.

I'll have to revisit this topic again someday in another post. I really do enjoy "What Ifs" and revisionist history pieces. I think it would be cathartic to flesh this out more. The next time I see my mother, I may pick her brain about it and see what she thinks she would have done. It's been 30 years, I don't think I'll be opening any old wounds, and as she gets older, she becomes more and more willing to talk about the past. That's been nice.

So back to my question: Would he have liked the man I've become?

I think he would have understood that I'm an inherently flawed individual, but one that's done a lot of good with the hand I was dealt. I'm not perfect, but if you put my life on a scale today, I'm confident the good in me would far outweigh the bad. So on a measure, yeah, I think he and I would have enjoyed a few rounds of whiskey and gin over the last 15 years. He'd have talked and I would have listened.

I could have lived with that.

An Exercise in Utility

At what point does a writer stop being a writer? When does inactivity atrophy the skill to the point of irrelevance?

There's no telling what life has in store for my family and I. A year from now, we could be preparing to move across the country - there's no telling. If we go, I have to be able to put my skills to good use, and my primary skill, the one I hang my hat on, is my ability to generate cohesive thoughts via the written word.

If I lose this, I'm doomed.

So this blog will be my tool for forcing myself to write and write well. I can't promise it will always be interesting, or even good for that matter, but it will be practice, and I'll use it every day.

What will I be writing about? Nothing specific, just the goings-on in my world: fatherhood, sports, news, politics, what I'm reading, what I'm watching, beer, coffee, work, food, how dirty my glasses are right now (good god!) - it can be anything.

Feedback is completely appreciated, but not necessary. I'm doing this for myself, but you're welcome to come along.