Interlude 6: The Wedding Post

Good Friday to you!

Well, I don't know about you, but this has been a busy week full of activities.  With the end of school there were graduations galore, two of which I attended.

Then there was the wedding.  My wife's sister was married this past weekend.  At the same time, so was my wife's sister's new husband.  What a weird coinkydink, right?

In order to attend the wedding, we had to travel to Charleston, South Carolina.  As it turns out, Charleston is a beautiful place.  There is lots of green and ocean and beach, plus a really nice little downtown area.  I say "little" because I reside in Chicago and, well, it's all relative I suppose.  I don't want to hear a word from you New Yorkers.

We flew down, checked into our hotel, and then more or less went straight to the church.  The wedding went smoothly, everyone got married who was suppose to get married, and no one died who wasn't suppose to die.  

Don't think too hard about that last bit.

Everyone looked pretty in their purples, grays, and blacks.  Especially my wife.  Cause she's pretty.

The wedding reception was the day after the wedding.  It was more of a day of party than just a reception.  There was a cruise along one of the coastal canals describing various bits of history and tradition bits.  Some architecture goodies were thrown in as well.

Afterward, there was a transition period after which we all arrived at a swanky restaurant for some good viddles.  Much time was spent with the talking and the eating and the talking and more eating.

Many people hopped on airplanes after the dinner or simply drove home.  The rest of them flew home at the moment dawn cracked the next day.

That meant the only people from the wedding who were still in town other then the people who already live there, were my wife and I.  All the rest of the family from both sides had gone home.  Not even the bride and groom were there.  They left us with a key to their apartment and car so we could wander around Charleston till our own scheduled departure was upon us.

So, we walked all over downtown Charleston.  There we found some great food, some even greater gelato, and some nice ocean side walking paths.

Eventually, however, the time was upon us.  We had checked out of our hotel room first thing in the morning, so that was done, which left us with putting Nirma's sister's car back and locking said keys inside of the previously decided hiding place.  Which we did after summoning our shuttle ride to the airport.

The nice lady who picked us up spent part of the trip having a stirring conversation with her aunt on the phone and then chatted us up the rest of the journey.  She was friendly.  But that didn't keep her from charging us.

So, after locking away all the keys to transportation and free lodging and arriving at the airport, we paid the nice lady her extortion (it actually wasn't that bad) and made our way inside of the airport.

We walked right up to the check in counter just in time to find out that our flight home had been "delayed" (read: cancelled) till the next day.  You know, after we had locked away our free transportation and lodging.

Grumble.

Fortunately, the lady at the desk was super nice and understanding and tried very hard to get us on a more immediate flight.  She failed, but she gets an "A" for effort.

Instead, she put us up in a hotel room free of charge which came with free transport to and from.

While this was all rather inconvenient, it turned out to be a really nice relaxing evening for my wife and I.  We walked to a restaurant across the street, then sat out side while we ate a cookie and had nice conversation.

For all practical purposes, the next day we were up by 3am so we could arrive home by 11am and then drive home from the airport by noon.  At which point we unpacked, showered, groomed, laundered, food shopped, and then made our way to the first graduation program of the week which allowed us to be home and in bed before 11pm.

It wasn't exactly how we had planned things.

But, you know what?  It was good.  In the end, we stayed at a new place we'd never stayed at before, had some extra leisure time and an over all fun story.

If you force me to pull a lesson out of this, I will say this.  Things rarely ever go the way we expect them to, even when they go well.  Getting bogged down in the details of what went good or bad simply causes us to miss the point of life at large.

Take whatever comes your way and find enjoyment in it.  Do the best you can in every situation to make it all it can be, but when it doesn't go right, embrace it and enjoy it anyway.

Happiness and joy are not things that happen to us, but states of being that we choose to be regardless of what happens to us.

There it is.  That's all I have today.

Have a great night.

Odd Wisdom

One can find wisdom in the strangest of places.

Today my good friend asked me to randomly give him some advice.  No context.  No explanation.  Simply hand him some random advice.  (That's right, bud.  You inspired my blog today.  If this sucks, it's all your fault???)

So, to that, I told him "Always... no, wait... Never, hit a man with glasses.  Use a brick.  It's more solid."

I suspect I was the "victim" of a personal experiment on his part.  Later I transmitted something more serious towards his direction.  

One of my other favorite off the cuff advice snippets I love to throw at people when they ask is "If you build a man a fire, he's warm for an evening.  But if you set a man on fire, he's warm for the rest of his life."

And, it's true.  But only in horrible, illegal ways.

Wisdom, by it's modern definition (as opposed to the Archaic/pre-Archaic definition.  ask me about that sometime, it's an awesome discussion), is a strange guide and road map.  Sometimes a catalyst.  Sometimes it's straightforward and full of obvious logic.  Other times it seems random and without purpose, but in all cases, if it's wisdom, it takes the receiving person exactly where they need to go, should they intern be wise enough to follow.

Wisdom is meant to inspire.  Inspire a good decision.  Perhaps a series of them.  For example, if someone breaks into your home and you are forced to defend yourself (in one of those extreme examples where you are left with no choice), use a brick, not glasses.  (assuming those are your only options and there isn't some other, more effective implement of destruction laying about.)

There is the wisdom that doesn't seem to make sense.  According to the late, great Yogi Berra "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."  

Was that simply meant to be amusing?  Does it make some sort of secret sense?  Does it make any kind of sense at all?  

Or perhaps was that the point?  Perhaps the fact that it's a contradictory, albeit amusing, statement is where the wisdom lies.  Perhaps for the right person, it will force them to think sideways and see their individual situation in a way they hadn't considered before.

Wisdom doesn't always have to make sense.  It only needs to work.

In fact, it seems that the best wisdom is the wisdom that makes you think the hardest, not necessarily the wisdom that is the most direct.  This, I believe, is because almost all solutions come when we force ourselves to think differently.  To see a thing from another angle.  To pull ourselves out of the current pattern and view another one.

The more one can truly think otherly (I think I just made up that word), the more often they can either solve, or completely bypass their hiccups in the road (and I think that is a mixed metaphor.).

But once someone becomes inspired, once they learn to shift those mental gears more often, they will become less reliant upon someone else's warmth of wisdom.  They themselves will be set aflame and be forever warmed.

As I said, wisdom and inspiration can come from the darndest places.

The Anniversary Blog

Hello true believers!  

I don't really know what that means.  Stan Lee used to start his communications in comic books that way.  Mostly, I just wanted to use "true believers" in a sentence.

Today's post will be brief.  

Why, you ask?

Because today is my 15 year wedding anniversary.  As such I have more important things to do (like hang out with my fancy bride) than to spend large amounts of time here.  

That's right.  I said it.  My wife is more important to me than you are.  It's not personal.  It's love.

Love is a tricky thing.  Without love we would have likely murdered each other long ago.  And by "murdered" I mean significantly less violent but just as permanent.

There are lots of questions one could ask about relationships and marriage and what makes either one of them successful.  And by "successful", I do not mean "long."

A long marriage and a successful marriage are not necessarily the same thing.

Many people will stay in a marriage for more years than I've been alive, and be miserable the entire time simply because "that's how it's suppose to be."

Successful means that you are together AND happy about it.  You have both dedicated yourselves to a union greater than each of you individually and have found great joy in the other persons happiness.

I think it could be argued that there are other things that make it successful as well.

One question I could ask myself (and have) is, what have I learned over the last 15 years?

Firstly, I've learned that my wife is just as beautiful first thing in the morning as she is after a shower and proper grooming rituals. 

What?  What did you expect me to say?  Anything else would be suicide.

More importantly, I've learned that I am quite selfish.

In hindsight, I have seen how many of the things I did to make my wife "happy" were done in an attempt to vicariously make me happy.  Things done to hopefully encourage her to, in turn, do things back.

Said like that, it sounds really awful doesn't it?

I also noticed how many of the fights we had we largely based on one of us being selfish about something.  And just as often as not, it was the accuser who was being selfish.

I noticed, in retrospect, how much time was spent by one or both of us attempting to still be "separate".  This is not to be confused with maintaining ones own identity.  What I mean is, we would still be holding things back from each other not truly giving all of who we are to each other.  Not truly.  And, at the same time, not truly accepting all of who the other is.

It's easy to become two people who like the veneer of marriage, the superficial look and feel of it, without embracing the substance of what it should be.

Live in the same house, sleep in the same bed, eat together, do stuff together, pay bills, deposit pay checks, do couple type things and think that this constitutes marriage.

It does not.  Not even if you do it perpetually and without too much arguing.

Being united, being one together, is more than simple proximity.  It's more than mutual affection.  It's more than even passion.  

It's about desire and purpose.

Desiring the other persons happiness and well being above all else.  

Having a purpose for your union other than simple cohabitation and it's various benefits.  

A person is powerful.  

Two people working together selflessly as one...?  That is unstoppable.  

I love my wife with all my heart.  And she loves me.  We don't always get it right, but we won't ever stop trying.

Perhaps, maybe, that last part is important to the formula.

Love well, my friends.

Lesson 22 - I Twerk Poorly

How many of you have ever eaten bread?  

I'm going to take a gamble and say that most of you fit into the bread-eating or have-eaten category.  Bread has been a staple food for many a moon.  People were eating bread long before anyone ever said the word "bread".

Not too surprising, that.

What I would like to focus on is not the bread, but the part of bread eating that is a much more modern addition.

The removing it from the bag part.  Specifically, the removing of the twist tie that holds the bread bag closed.

You all know what wire twist ties are, yes?  If you don't, than you've either just been born, live in a country that does not use such primitive contraptions, or you have recently suffered a head wound and should immediately head to the hospital for x-rays.

Twist ties.  A piece of wire inside a paper or plastic sheath.  Malleable, flexible, and all around, well, twisty.  Tie together bundles of small somethings.  Tie off bags.  Tie off your finger till the blood doesn't flow all the way to the end and it turns purple and my mom yelled at me to stop that.

Hypothetically.

Eventually as you use the twist tie over many days, months or even years if you are that agonizingly frugal (I mean "wise".  If you are that "wise".  Ahem.), the sheath will tear and break and begin to slide off the wire (if you haven't lost it altogether long before then).  And then, should you still be working that twist tie, it will, eventually, break in half all together.

Completely unrelated except for how it's completely related, this is how back injuries were once described to me by a doctor who deals with such things.

While there are many things that contribute to catastrophic spine related problems, one of the common causes of back problems is a simple lack of flexibility.  In fact, almost all common structural problems that develop over time are directly related to a lack of flexibility and weakening muscles.  My doctor friend explained it by telling me how, when your back is inflexible and becomes even more inflexible over time, the spine does all of it's flexing in the exact same spot over and over instead of flexing in many places all at once and spreading the motion around.

This leads to the person forcing increased strain on an increasingly weak area until something gives, just like the twist tie.

Therefore, one needs to be vigilant about increasing ones flexibility and maintaining the strength of the muscular system.

This was illustrated very nicely recently while I was helping supervise a school class trip this past week.  

Once upon a time I had a number of back issues that stemmed from injury and the resulting flexibility issues that I never truly attempted to remedy.  But, over the last few years, I have attempted to improve my flexibility and keep things moving well.  And, it has made a huge difference.  I haven't had back problems ever since I made this my way of doing things.

However, like all people, there can be an ebb and flow in my dedication which relates directly to me feeling the stiffness and soreness threaten to rear it's ugly head.  Although, to be fair, on my best day, my back is not anything remotely related to super flexible.

Back to the trip.  

We took the class to Wisconsin Dells.  The class used the funds they had raised and stayed at one of the really nice water park resorts that exist there.  A good time was had by all.  One evening as we were rounding up the youngsters, we were standing around a deck table making sure everyone had their gear.

I was standing behind one of the deck chairs patiently waiting for the decimal (that would be 10) of kids to figure out who's stuff was who's, one kid slid the chair in front of me back at an alarming rate, the corner of said chair aimed directly at my sensitive man bits.

At this point all my ninja instincts took over (cough, cough) and I did the only thing I could do.  I thrust my butt out behind me to make room for the corner of the chair to now reside where my pieces and parts used to be.

While I succeed at the evasion, my back was very unhappy I had tried to save myself by twerking.  (please don't think to hard about what that looks like.  It's for your own good.  You will never scrub your mind clean of any mental image of me trying to twerk.  So don't think about that.  Don't do it.  Don't think about me twerking.  Excellent.  Now your mind belongs to me.)

One spot down low in my back decided to grumble strongly.  It just wasn't flexible enough to do what I'd asked it to do.  It didn't cripple me.  It was fortunately a mostly short lived annoyance.  But the lack of flexibility almost became my undoing.  I've had too many back injuries to not know the signs of impending spinal doom.

Our mental and emotional states work very similarly.  A lack of flexibility in who we are and how we perceive things can be directly related to how quickly and catastrophically we break when we've finally bent farther than we've trained ourselves to allow.

When we become stuck on a single way of seeing reality around us without any consideration to addendum's or modifications to our thought, the moment that something happens that shatters that view will ultimately shatter us.

It happens at a frighteningly high rate.  It causes people to either crumble completely or to bounce around in this "either/or" way of thinking.  Bouncing between extremes.  It must either be this way, or that way.  There are no other options.

If we see everything that way, we are completely unequipped to deal with anything that doesn't conform to one of the two possibilities we've decide must be the only two ways at seeing reality.

We've made ourselves inflexible.  And when something is inflexible, it eventually breaks.  Maybe not right away.  Maybe not for a long time.  But eventually.  Much like the twist tie.

Now, before you cry foul, I am aware that all analogies break down eventually.  I am also not suggesting that someone "compromise" a belief for the sake of flexibility.  It's about broadening consideration, not compromise.  Compromise is about taking something you do believe and ignoring it.  Broadening ones consideration is about expanding upon and understanding more the possibilities that actually exist versus the ones we thought existed.  It's about realizing there is more to reality than we would like to believe.

As you navigate your life in whatever phase of it you are in, practice being the flexible mental ninja.  Strong and adaptable.  

Do not be a mental twist tie where one too many wrong mental twerks become your undoing.

And Now For Something Serious...

Serious.  As opposed to all the other things I've ever written that were not serious.

Just so we are clear.

Ok, I am going to defend myself for a moment before I start in on what may turn out to be a rant.  First off, I am not one who is given to ranting publicly about anything.  It serves little purpose other than to convince people that one is crazy.  No matter how important the message, people will tune out if for no other reason than the tone of the talk was all wrong.

And believe me, I know a little something about people tuning out when I talk.  I'm a preacher.  Nuff said.

Secondly, it is not my intention to be offensive to anyone.  I don't like to offend people.  It's not useful.  So, again, please don't take offense if anything hits too close to home.

Unless you are directly guilty of being on the giving end of what I'm going to talk about.  Then you better believe I'm hoping to offend you.  In fact, everyone should be offended by what I'm going to talk about.

There you go.  Apparently, I've just taken it all back.  It is my intention to offend everyone.  But in a kind way.  Unless you are guilty.  And round the circle we go...

Hmm.

I am actually not sure how to begin.  I was trying to think of some clever illustration to lead into it.  But it's not coming to me right now, so I will just jump in.

It is never, ever... ever ok to abuse someone.  

I don't care how angry you got.  I don't care how thoughtless someone was.  If you are a parent or a spouse, it is never ok to abuse.  Abuse of that type is evil on a whole level of it's own.  It's not only physical, but it destroys trust and love and scars the heart and mind forever.

It doesn't matter how you justify it.  It's never not evil.  It doesn't matter how stoned you were.  It's never not evil.  It doesn't matter how you were raised.  It's never not evil.  It doesn't matter what era you grew up in.  It's never not evil.  It doesn't matter what country you are from.  It's never not evil.

I'm not going to get into the corporal punishment debate over what is or is not appropriate.  It's mostly irrelevant.  I say that because abusers usually know they are doing it.  Otherwise, they wouldn't try to hide it.  They know they are crossing lines, or they wouldn't pretend they don't.

If you are a man and your wife makes you angry and you punch her or strike her in any way, you are guilty of abuse.  No excuses.  You don't do it.  It's evil.  

If you are a man and you have to force or coerce a woman to have sex with you when she doesn't want to, you are guilty of abuse.  It's called rape, married or not.  No excuses.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

If you are a man and when you argue with your spouse you devolve into screaming rants filled with name calling, you are guilty of abuse.  Not physical, but still abuse.  No excuses.  It's never ok.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

Women, I realize that this rarely happens the other direction, but it does happen.  If you are one of the rare ones, stop.  It's evil.

If you are a parent, male or female, and you punch your child, that is abuse.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

If you are a parent, male or female, and hit your child with solid metal objects, that is abuse.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

Don't do it when they are teenagers.  Don't do it when they new born infants.  It.  Is.  Evil.

If you are a parent, male or female, and you call your child horrible names in a screaming rage, that is abuse.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

If you are a parent, and you make your child believe they are worthless and stupid, that's abuse.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

If you are a parent, male or female, and you convince your child to have sex with you, no matter how old or young, that is abuse, and rape, and you are a pedophile.  Don't do it.  It's evil.

If you are a parent and you starve your child willfully, that is abuse.  You are guilty.  Don't do it.  That is evil.  

If you as a person force anyone else to do any of these things to anyone else, that is abuse and you are guilty.  Don't do it.  It is evil.

It does not matter how you justify it.  It does not matter if you think it's "ok" and other people just don't understand your love or your hard time you are in or that you are in a special love with that child, your's or someone else's.  It is evil.

If you are doing any of these things to anyone else you need to stop.  If some how, someway, you didn't realize these things were wrong...?... stop.  If you knew and didn't care...?... stop.  Because, either way, it will catch up with you.  But more importantly, you are destroying lives.  That makes you evil.

That's right.  All of these things are evil.  But some of them absolutely make you evil if you willfully participated.  Yes, I'm judging.  Deal with it.

There are no excuses.  None.  Not ever.  Your heritage, upbringing, culture, age... are all irrelevant to this discussion.

Now, to you who are victims.

You, are not guilty.  You did nothing that deserves anything I have described, and I know that I have only described the most basic descriptions of the evils that are abuse.  If someone is hurting you in anyway, it's not because you are guilty.  It's because they are sick, and it's evil.

You are not to blame.  Do not blame yourself.

Just as importantly, you do NOT have to stay.  If you are being abused in any way, you need to tell someone and you need to get away from it.  I don't care what your religion is, or your culture, or your age, or your heritage.  You need to leave.  There is no good excuse.

You may think you are trapped, but unless you are literally locked in a room or tied to a bed or guarded 24/7, you are not trapped.  You owe the abuser nothing.  You stopped owing them anything the moment they started to abuse you.  They crossed a line and you need to get away.

It will not stop on its own.  It could very likely end in your death, or worse.  Do not stay.

If you think that the family unit is more important than the safety of the people in that family, you are being controlled by that idea and through that idea by the one abusing you.  If you allow yourself or your child to be abused for the sake of the greater family perception, all you are doing is allowing children to be raised who will likely abuse their family as well.

You are allowing a scenario where your children will be permanently harmed.  Or yourself.

You need to tell someone and get out of that place.

You don't believe in divorce?  Fine.  I get it.  I'm a pastor.  I've heard every argument ever conceived and many that even you have never heard of.  You are not obligated in this scenario to stay with that person.  No spouse has the right to hurt you in these fashions.  

There is even a strong bible argument for this.  If you really think you need one, just ask.

If you are a child, you need to understand that it is not ok for your parents to hurt you in these ways.  If they do, and then tell you not to tell anyone, you need to immediately tell someone.  You do not owe them that level of obedience.  

If you as a spouse or child are too afraid to go to the proper authorities themselves, go tell someone who is a mandated reporter.  A nurse, doctor, firefighter, paramedic, pastor, teacher, or anyone of that type.  They are required to make sure the right people know about it.  No one has to know you reported it.  It's not lying.  It's strategic truth telling.

That's right, I just made up a term to help save your life and your conscience.

You don't think you can survive on your own?  You don't think you can support yourself or your children without the abuser?  Then you need to realize there are agencies dedicated to helping people just like you.  They help proved shelter and food and help you find ways to exist without the abuser.

You think you still love the abuser?  Well, maybe you do.  Love is, well, love.  That doesn't mean you should stay.  You can love them from afar.  If you love them, you will tell someone and force them to get help.  

But no matter what, never believe it was your fault.  You are not evil, or worthless, or stupid, or bad in any way.  They are.  Not you.

What they are doing is not out of love.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.

The abuser has failed the duties of love.

And just because you leave and get help and protection does not mean you failed love.  It means you loved yourself enough to know you are better than the abuse and the abuser.  And it means you loved them enough to do what was necessary to make sure they not only get help, but that they stop before they do something that can't be undone.

I suppose many of you are thinking that this is just common sense and everyone knows this and if you are reading my blog in particular that you probably are past this moral conversation.

You would, then, be surprised to know that you are likely incorrect in that assumption.  Abuse happens every where.  With people that you know, but you just don't realize it.  It's that common.  It is, unfortunately, likely that someone who reads my blog and this post in particular is either an abuser or a current victim of abuse.

I shouldn't tell you that I have no knowledge of who you are.  I could lie and make you think I know who you are, but I don't.  It would be a good strategic move on my part.  But I also believe in the truth and honesty.

Or I could be saying that because I DO know who you are and I just want to divert attention.  Wouldn't THAT be genius of me...

Probably not.

I'm tired of having to convince people that they don't have to stay in their abuse.  I'm tired of having to look abusers in the eye and pretend to be friendly because they don't know I've had to turn them in because their spouse or child was too scared to tell the authorities, but they managed to tell me.

Although, I will gladly do it.  If a victim can not speak for themselves, then someone needs to speak for them.  It should be me.

It should be you.

If you are a victim of abuse, do not wait to do something about it.  

If you are an abuser, your days of freedom are numbered.  You will be found out.  Be the good person you want everyone to think you are.  Be better than your desires.

Get help and be better.

Night.

Interlude 5: The Land of What The...???

Good evening everyone.

I have been in the middle of a lot of travel and business and it's creating havoc with my blogging.  This will be my fifth interlude since the last time I put out a proper post.  And that doesn't even take into account the couple weeks of no posts at all.

I'm a failure and ask your forgiveness.

I am as of this sentence, sitting in a hotel room in Springfield, IL.  The state capitol.  The land of Lincoln.

I have been here only once previous to this since the times I came her as a child.  The last time I didn't get a chance to drive through it.  This time I did.  As a result, I noticed something I hadn't really considered before.

Springfield is tiny.

Now, I know that comparing to Chicago, the place where I reside, is not a great way to compare city sizes.  But this is the state capital.  I was expecting... more.

On the plus side, it is actually very nice.  The downtown was clean and well kept.  Plus, there is a number of historical buildings and sites to see.  

But, it has been an odd trip.

It started this morning after I finished teaching my class as we packed up and jumped in the car.  I google app'd the route here, and, usually, my app is super good with letting me know construction and traffic problems.

I take the way anyone would take to get to Springfield and manage to make all the way out of the city with virtually no traffic.  As we get just south of Joliet, which is the beginnings of nowhere, traffic just stops.  Over the next 1.5 hours or more, we manage to travel about 1.5 miles.

I live in Chicago.  I'm used to traffic.  It's never like that.  

As it turned out, there was a bridge that has been under construction since forever, but it didn't register on my construction finder until we were already in the traffic.  This functionally ruined any chance we had of actually visiting historical sites in springfield while they were open.

Speaking of Springfield, once we drove into downtown Springfield, we decided to drive past the historical places.  

It took all of five minutes.  Maybe 10.  It's so tiny.  Did I mention that already?  

When we left Chicago, we decided to grab some food on the way because we wanted to get to Springfield early enough to actually visit the historical sites.  (I think I've covered the futility of that decision.)  My wife and I have been vegetarian now for almost a year and half.  We've learned to find our way around menu's pretty good.  We try hard not to be those people who just nitpick the menu apart and give the waiter or waitress or drive through person a terrible run around.

I figured to make it simple, I'd just stop at Burger King and get their veggie burger.  It's ok, but not amazing.  Probably not overly healthy, but you do what you can.  What you don't understand is that when I start getting hungry, I start getting grumpy.  There is a direct proportion to my level of hunger and grumpiness.  I figured I'd wait till we got out of the main Chicago area traffic before we found a place.

However, by then, I was really getting desperate.  Not because I was going to die of starvation, but because my wife was afraid I might accidentally murder her.  (this may be an exaggeration.)  So, I see the BK of my desires, pull in, and find out they are out of veggie burgers.

The one place I stop at, and they don't have what I need.  Go figure.

So, we had to find some other place that had veggie options that were more than just fries, so that we could make to Springfield.  (Again, not realizing it wouldn't matter because google and construction killed us.)

We finally find a place with food, and once the ingestion process begins, my wife decides to put her bladed weapons of defense away.

Once we arrived at Springfield, got checked in to our hotel, managed a quick tour of downtown, all was right with the world again.

It turns out that our problems really weren't problems at all.

We walked across the parking lot to the Mexican Restaurant next door to have dinner and giggled about our day and how sometimes things just don't go the way you want them to.

Oh, did I mention how I ran over an entire truck tire?  Ok, not the entire tire.  But the entire circle of treads from a truck tire.  I was in the process of changing lanes when the car in front of me swerved and all I had to do was definitely NOT shout profanities... um...

But, no harm, no foul.  Our little buggy is tough.

We finished our food, and walked of the restaurant and headed across the other parking lot toward Target to grab some bottles of water.  As we past the Mexican restaurants sign, they had their special on the sign.  Salmon in the style of "Conzumel."

For those of you who may be wondering, "Cozumel" is a Mexican island.  "Conzumel" is apparently what happens when someone doesn't use spell check before hanging a sign.

We had a good laugh about that, especially as we had just come back from Cozumel a couple weeks ago.  We commented about how, apparently, Mexico has been spelling it wrong all these years.  (ahem...)

Sometimes, things just don't go they way you hoped they would.

And you know what?  That's ok.

Sometimes that just makes the stories all that much better.

Have a great night.

Interlude 4: The Vacation Post

Hello and welcome back.

I suppose, technically, I was the one who was gone, but who's keeping score?  All of you?  Ah.  Right.

Well, as promised, I did, in fact, take a vacation.  To Cozumel, Mexico.  Cozumel was everything that home was not.  Warm, sunny, and lacking in snow.  I was pretty ok with that.  We (my wife sized unit and I) enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.  There were some friends down there with us which made it even more fun shaped.

There was a lot of time spent in the actual sun.  No surprise there.  Tans and burns did abound.  As did food and tiny lizards.

One day we all went and took a "class".  It was called "Salsa Salsa."  The purpose of this class was "salsa".  We learned how to make different kinds of a salsa and, in the process, ate a LOT of salsa.  We also learned how to Salsa dance.  I am pretty confident that what we were being taught was "Salsa" dancing in the most loose definition of "Salsa" dancing. It was similar to salsa dancing in the same way that "blueberries" and "steak" are similar foods.  

We didn't care.  We all had fun.

We also wandered through the touristy downtown of Cozumel.  That was... well, let's just say that there are many wonderful reasons to go to Cozumel.  This was not one of them.  But if you are looking to take home some souvenirs for friends, family, and co-workers, that's where you need to go.

Completely unrelated.  Am I the only one who is always tempted to say the word "co-workers" as though it is spelled "cow-orkers"?  

Every.  Time.  I have no idea why.  But it amuses me to know end.  I've always wanted to walk into the office and, with my best knight-of-the-round-table voice greet them with, "Hello, my fellow cow-orkers!  It does warm my heart to see you well and refreshed for the days battle!"

There is literally no scenario in my life where that would be appropriate, or make any actual sense to anyone.

And thus my sadness.

Hmm...

Where was I...  

Oh yes.  Cozumel.

One thing I got to do was go scuba diving.  I was able to make four dives over two days.  Scuba diving is a ton of fun.  It's like flying.  Except, you know, you are under water.  And there are fish.  Which makes sense because of the underwater part.

The water is super clear there, and it turns out the bottom of the ocean (as if I was down miles and miles...) is quite beautiful.  We spent most of our time at depths between 40-60 feet, but did spend a little time as deep as 90 or so.  

There is a lot of white sand down there.  In that white sand is coral.  Some of it purple.  Some of it brown.  Some of it yellow.  The fish down there where colors like blue, and yellow, and black, and orange.

On one dive, we dropped into the water right in the middle of a... school?... of jelly fish.  I know what you are thinking.  "Isn't that bad?" I hear you say.  Well, usually it is to be avoided.  These particular jellies were pretty harmless.  They didn't bother you and they didn't have the long "stinger tentacles" that you usually think of with jelly fish.  Although one brave little jelly (they were all about the size of a nickel) tried to eat my friends finger.  And by "eat", I mean it basically enveloped the tip of one finger, wiggled a little, than swam away.

Not very ferocious.

They were pretty cool.  

That said, I was definitely wary.  We all know the legends of jelly fish.  The ones that sting you in horrible ways.  There are jelly fish off the coast of Australia, I think, that are pretty small, but have super long trailing "stingers".  If one even touches you, it sends so much pain into you that if you don't die before they get you out of the water, you wish you had.  The pain is so bad if you survive that no amount of pain meds even scratch the surface of it.  Unless they do a spinal block, you basically suffer in incalculable agony for days or weeks till it goes away on it's own.

Most jelly fish aren't that dangerous.  But if you get stung, you know it.

So, I was pretty wary at first.  Later on a different dive I kept seeing this... stuff, floating by.  At first I thought it was those "floaties" you get in your eyes.  But as I looked closely, they were these completely transparent... somethings.  Something akin to jelly fish.  Long and thin with long trailing "stinger tentacles."

I tried to avoid those.

I did not succeed.

Being that they were mostly invisible, I inevitably had one graze my hand right between two fingers.

Those two fingers immediately burst into flame under water.  At least, that's what it felt like.  Both fingers felt like they had been zapped by large amounts of electricity that did not immediately stop flowing.  

If you shout profanity underwater through a breather and no one can hear you, does it still count?

Probably.

It subsided after a few minutes (both the pain and profanity).  But holy electrocution, Batman!  That stuff smarts.

Scuba is fun and the wild life is beautiful, but it is not without it's dangers.  But, you know that going in and you try to be careful.  There is a lot of open space, so, you know, it's not hard to be safe.

Which brings me to the shark.

When you are floating along and look down and see a seven foot shark, should you swim over and take a look?  Or keep on floating and admire it from afar?

Well, it wasn't the super aggressive kind of shark.  It was a Nurf shark, or Nerf shark, or some word that is pronounced like that but spelled completely different.

They leave you alone.  But I suspect that if one felt you were stalking it, it might decide it needed to let you know that's not allowed.

This one played nice.

I also saw some barracuda.  They tended to travel in pairs.  I also left them alone.

The giant turtles were the coolest things for me.  HUGE lazy turtles, just swimming by slowly.  They aren't afraid of you at all.  I had one float by within an arms-length of my head.  I turned around, and bam, there he was.  

No, he didn't run into me.  

They are amazingly graceful creatures.  You just want to hug them.  They seem so friendly.  They might even BE friendly.  But, there is a no touching rule, so, we didn't.

We also saw some pretty huge crab and lobster down there.  One lobster we saw running around down there was astonishingly fast as he run across the ocean floor.  Fast enough I would not have gotten away had it been chasing me.  It was like this huge spider/scorpion thing going after something.  It was the only truly creepy thing I saw down there.

When you are underwater with nothing but a tank of air on your back keeping you breathing, you try to be hyper aware of danger and attempt to be super careful.  And, as I said, for the most part, it's really easy to be safe.

One thing did happen though.  And it's not what you may be thinking.

We were swimming through some coral arches.  No caves or anything like that.  Big, giant openings.  As we were swimming around the coral, I need to dive down farther to go under one part.  Nothing tight, just deeper in the water than I was.  As I dove deeper, one ear started to build pressure.  This is normal.  You are constantly intentionally  clearing (popping) your ears to relieve pressure.  However, for some reason, my one ear didn't want to clear that particular moment.  So, as I dove, it would start to hurt, then I would go back up.  I would try to clear it, dive and clear as I go, and it just wouldn't clear.  I thought maybe I could just live with it and go, but I couldn't.  It just hurt too much.

So, I turned around to head back up.  As I did, I was a little closer to the wall than I thought and bumped my head just a little.  Not hard at all.  Just hard enough to know I'd done it.

The walls are covered with plants and stuff, much of which is soft.  You aren't suppose to touch it, and this was clearly accidental.

I moved away, rubbed my head to make sure I wasn't bleeding or anything, which I wasn't, and after doing a self check, declared myself fine and went on.  

I had a small sore spot on the side of my head, but it didn't even bruise.  No worries.

Once we got into the boat after that dive, I had my dive buddy/doctor friend check the side of my head just to make sure I hadn't "done anything bad" that would leave me not alive soon.

He declared me fine and then we helped each other get our gear off.

As I as bending forward to help him, he saw the top of my head (I'm taller than he) and he said "Whoa, you have a cut across the top of your head."

I had no idea.

Turns out it was just a scratch.  Didn't even leave a scar.  I'm not sure it ever truly "bled".

The thing is, I don't really know for sure when it happened.  It could have happened when I bumped the wall.  That's the most likely time.  But I never felt it.  I never felt anything touch the top of my head.  Was it one of the wall creatures I bumped into?  Was it from coral I don't remember hitting?  Was it some alien jelly fish tentacle trying to bore its way into my brain and take over my mind?

I have no idea.

For all our care and careful diving, for the things I avoided and the things I knew I hadn't, the thing that did the most damage to me was the one thing I never knew that happened.

I'm pretty sure our lives are like that.  We can try so hard to control everything around us and make sure nothing touches us or hurts us.  But we never succeed.  It's always the thing we didn't see coming.  And there is ALWAYS something we don't see coming.  And there always will be.

We can make ourselves mad trying to avoid the things of life.  We can not succeed.  Our control and safety is largely illusory.  

As are most things of life.

So, take heart my fellow cow-orkers!!  (I seriously have no idea what a cow-orker is.)  If you feel you are losing control, it's ok.  It's simply not true.

You never had any control to begin with.

And that's ok.

Night.