It Defined Me….

Daily writing prompt

Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.

I was on the verge of turning 33. Too young for a mid-life crisis or deep existential awakening but having been married for 3 years I came to the realization that I desperately needed a hobby, preferably one that got me out of the house for hours at a time. It was at this point that I took up long distance running.

I’m not sure exactly why I turned to distance running besides the fact that it fit my two criteria, get me out of the house and it took lots of time. Whenever I would see people running down the road it seemed like an activity that they didn’t seem to be enjoying. Runners always appeared to have a pained look on their face that seemed to ask “why am I really doing this ?” Perhaps the real reason, if they were being truthful, was that they needed a hobby that got them out of the house for hours at a time.

Admittedly my journey to distance running does seem a bit strange in retrospect. I had never run on the track or cross country team in high school and although I worked out and was in relatively good shape, running wasn’t something I did consistently, but I had always been intrigued by distance running and the ability to train to endure pain and discomfort that seemed to accompany distance running. And quite frankly it fit my personality of enjoying solitary pursuits in some grand quixotic activity. I had always been amazed at the story of the first marathon runner, a messenger in an ancient war who ran 26 miles from the plains of Marathon to deliver the news of a great victory…..he collapsed and died soon after, a Homeric death if there ever was one.

Initially I told no one of my new passion besides my wife. Partly because I wasn’t really sure how long I would commit to it and partly because I knew people would become puzzled and confused about my desire to do an activity that left me exhausted and uncomfortable. Eventually I did begin telling people of my plans to run a marathon. People I told would be silent for a moment with a confused and puzzled look on their faces, before eventually saying something like “now why would you do that ?”

But once I started doing it, I loved it. I bought magazines, yes magazines, that were devoted solely to distance running and all aspects of training. I studied training programs, experimented with different workouts, trained before work then switched and tried training after work to see what was more effective, before work was way more easier to accomplish effective or not. I bought running shoes and then more shoes. My wife stopped accompanying me to the shoe store knowing I would be there for at least an hour trying on shoes and talking training, despite my obvious bribe of taking her to dinner afterwards.

Running became who I was and what I did… it defined me in ways I was sure non runners could never understand. And when I lined up at the starting line of my first marathon with 20,000 other runners I knew I had found my people and my passion.

One marathon led to another and then another, even traveling out of state and meeting up with an old college buddy who had also discovered distance running. And of course there were shorter races almost every weekend in my area. I started noticing the same familiar faces at each starting line, and I soon began to realize who was fast and who I could realistically beat.

When my wife became pregnant one of the baby shower gifts was a running stroller so I could keep running and take my son with me, perhaps my first bit of parental multitasking it accomplished two very important tasks, giving my wife a break and getting my son a nap as he soon fell asleep in the motion of the rolling stroller.

I soon began going to races pushing him in the stroller, no longer preoccupied with being fast, I took great joy in passing as many other runners as possible while pushing a stroller. After a couple of years my son outgrew the stroller, his legs were dangling over the edges. It was at about this time I tried to get back to marathon training. Perhaps it was fate or simply trying to do too much too soon but I quickly developed a stress fracture in my foot which was misdiagnosed initially and when finally properly diagnosed set my recovery back months. Unwilling to have surgery to remove the small offending bone, I began to realize my days of running marathons had suddenly ended.

I turned to other activities, activities that also took hours and required I vacate the premises. Hiking and biking soon replaced running but although each was satisfying they pale in comparison to distance running. I admit part of the allure of running marathons was telling people I ran marathons, and then seeing their bewildered looks. Running defined me in ways that no other activity ever has, no matter how many miles I ride my bike and although my creaky knees are probably partially attributed to running I wish I could still do it.

Peace and love,

John

We Shudder, Mother Nature Laughs

I woke up to another impossibly cold morning. The sky was clear allowing me to see a brilliant full moon still hovering through the trees in the western sky just about to disappear before sunrise.

I checked the temperature….-6 degrees. I then checked the calendar…finally January was over. Seriously how could January last so long, it feels like eons ago that we were celebrating the new year. News years resolutions have long since been abandoned, buried under the weight of expectations that far exceeded reality. Of course the everlasting darkness, bone chilling cold and snowstorms that cover half the country adds to the seemingly interminable length of January.

Does time move more slowly in the cold ? Why is it that the first month of a new year is the longest and coldest ? I’ve often wondered if the New Year happened in the summer if more people would be able to keep their resolutions with the warmer weather and extra daylight giving extra motivation. Most resolutions revolve around weight loss or eating less which are far easier to accomplish in the warm months of summer.

I scrolled through some news when I saw an intriguing headline that I thought couldn’t possibly be true. I double checked it to make sure it wasn’t a headline from The Onion ( something I’ve found myself doing more often lately ) and it definitely seemed to come from a legitimate news source. I read the story, watched a video and became aware that trees are exploding.

Evidently this phenomenon occurs in extreme cold during the winter months. Extreme cold being what most of us are experiencing the last few weeks, this definitely feels like Mother Nature pushing back at us. Snow, ice, cold, those aren’t enough, now she’s adding exploding trees.

I don’t know if this week it’s a polar vortex or bomb cyclone but it’s extreme. Have you noticed that the meteorologist seem to be coming up with new names for weather events ? I sometimes think it’s some desperate attempt to feel more important and grab yet more attention for weather. Nevertheless trees are exploding in northern climates as water freezes inside them and explodes in extreme cold.

I wonder if it’s been determined what the temperature range needs to be for trees to explode ? Our extreme cold in the mid-west has led to frozen pipes, icy roads, dead car batteries, frozen car locks, mountains of snow and at least for me a garage door that opens with a shudder that seems to say “are you kidding me” each time I open it.

Since the sun is shining I still plan to take advantage of a nice day, even if the amount of layers I’ll be wearing takes me longer to dress and undress. I’ll go hiking in the woods, enjoying nature, the snow covered trail and the trees surrounding me, as long as none of them start exploding.

Peace and love,

John

Fern

If there was ever the perfect time to do the “Netflix & Chill” thing it would be this weekend. A massive storm barreling its way from Texas to New England is paralyzing the country and consuming large portions of the news. The coverage is so thorough that the storm has already been named, Fern ( which actually sounds like your mother’s kindly slightly confused cousin who they just put into a senior center….Aunt Fern ) and the TV screen has the constant crawl at the bottom with warnings and alerts and possible snowfall amounts.

As a mid-westerner, I’m kinda used to winter storms, it is after all January. And so I’m always a little surprised by the massive amount of oxygen that a winter storm provides the news. Our local news leads with the storm, breathlessly warning of slick roads and dangerous cold, all of which are true and need to be monitored.

The Weather Channel is in full code red, defcon 5 mode. Only a massive hurricane gets more thorough coverage than a winter storm as their army of meteorologists fan out across the country and report on conditions all while wearing enough winter gear to make an Eskimo jealous. It’s always interesting to see how other areas of the country react to weather they don’t normally get. An inch or two of snow in the south will keep tow trucks busy for days meanwhile a foot of snow in New York or New England is greeted with a shrug. Snowblowers and shovels are always at the ready and even if they’re granted a snow day they know they’ll soon be trudging to work and the snow isn’t going anywhere for a long while.

The weekend storms are probably the best. People can stay home, watch The Weather Channel and binge watch a new series as they contemplate their yearly idea of relocating to the Caribbean. Of course then they might have to deal with hurricanes…..but at least they would know The Weather Channel would be all over it….hunker down and be safe

Peace and Love,

John

Signing Off the Way it Started

While scrolling through the headlines a few days ago I noticed a small article about something ending. Not uncommon at this time of year. The beginning of a new year also can mean the ending for other things. It happens all the time….something ends, something begins and although I hadn’t even thought about this in years, and if I had thought about I would have wondered if it still existed, but the article said MTV had ended its music channels and the world of music videos in TV ceased to exist.

I was first introduced to MTV in 1982….yes, it feels like an ancient long lost time period. Where I grew up there was no cable TV and it would be years before it reached us. But it was while visiting my sister at college on one of those “bring your brother/sister to college weekends” that I first was exposed to the wonder of MTV. My sister was showing me around her dorm and while the individual dorm rooms didn’t even have cable back then the common areas did. There was a small alcove off the main TV common area, it was dark and only had a few chairs and a small TV, but all the chairs were occupied and the TV blared a strange combination of music and video accompaniment….MTV my sister called it. She said it was very popular and that particular common area was always filled and the TV was always playing MTV.

Debuting in 1981 MTV quickly became a phenomenon and was one of the defining cultural trends of the 1980’s. Music presented in video format exploded in the perfect combination of art, visualization and fantasy. Before MTV the only way to see your favorite band was by attending a concert or perhaps catching them on a late night TV show. But now they were right in our TV’s, in our faces and living rooms at all hours. The videos became highly produced and professionally directed and it seemed like they became more important than the music.

New shows quickly copied the MTV formula and started showing videos on regular TV stations bringing music videos to everybody, even us teenagers stuck far from a cable line. We talked about the videos, discussed them at length, compared and rated them to each other and quickly adopted favorites. And of course everyone picked their favorite VJ host, mine was the irresistibly cute and entertaining Martha Quinn. The stars of that time period are forever etched in our memories, always a certain age and look, the videos still recalled when hearing that particular song.

MTV long ago abandoned video content as its source of programming. Reality TV became the new popular content. It still had video channels but I can’t remember the last time I tuned in even if I was mindlessly scrolling TV looking for anything to watch. Consumption of music and video long ago changed. Music is consumed on our phones, algorithmically delivered one curated song at a time and watching videos followed accordingly easily accessible on YouTube.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about shopping at my local mall for Christmas gifts and how it was so different than it used to be. MTV, like the mall, had its time and place and it was glorious. It officially signed off on News Years Eve and depending on what country you were in a different video was the last one played. In the US it was a song by a group called The Buggles titled “Video Killed the Radio Star.” Perfectly coming full circle as it was also the very first one played when the station launched.
Many things led to the demise of music videos and by extension MTV and although I don’t really miss it I certainly miss that feeling of discovering it and being in that time period.

Peace and Love,

John

It’s That Time of Year

It’s that strange time of year. The week between Christmas and New Year’s is when time seems to stand still. The week is still the same length, seven days, but the time gets lost in some kind of black hole in the time space continuum.

The hustle and bustle of Christmas is over and very much seems distant as everybody takes a deep breath and moves on. Oh the remnants of Christmas are still strewn about. There’s still gifts under the tree and tags still on some clothing. Gift bags and boxes are in that state of flux, halfway between thrown out or being kept for future use. And of course the tree and decorations are still very much part of the decor, although they’ve been up for so long that there’s almost a permanence to them. The decorations start to become forgotten after Christmas as people forget to turn on the tree and outdoor lights.

Of course contemplating when to take down the tree and decorations means having that yearly internal discussion about whether this is the year to scale back and perhaps toss out some of the decorations. But that would also mean doing a thorough cleaning and sorting of the storage area in the basement and really who wants to do that.

When the holidays fall during the middle of the week it becomes even more difficult to keep track of time. The whole week feels like a weekend and the weekend feels like nothing which is rather remarkable considering how important weekends can be.

You can tell how happy people are to be done with Christmas by how quickly everybody moves on. People take off on vacations this week to warmer climates or just to get away from their over decorated house.

Plans for the New Year are bandied about, lists are made and resolutions are considered. The resolve to make the next year better is very powerful this week when really it’s simply a flip of the calendar and really any change can happen at anytime. If flipping a calendar results in any meaningful change then perhaps it’s a change that won’t last but the new year certainly brings fresh attitudes and hope.

I spent a few minutes looking back at this past year. I don’t typically like to look back as my mind contemplates the negatives far more than the positives. I tend to get bogged down by the would’ve, could’ve and should’ve. But I do like to re-read a few old blog posts from this year and review the books I’ve read this year ( did I really read that many baseball books ?) Looking back can be beneficial, everybody grows and changes and suffers. Being able to move forward without being burdened or paralyzed by the past is difficult but so rewarding and important.

It’s with that hope that we look forward to each New Year’s Eve and so with balls dropping, party hats askew, and a song sung only on this day we glance forward…so go ahead and make resolutions, call old friends, book that vacation……I’ll be rearranging the basement and contemplating tossing out a few decorations ( but probably not )

Peace and Love,

John

So I Went to the Mall

I stood looking out the front window. Another delivery truck had pulled into the driveway. It was yet another Amazon truck dropping off its latest package. It just so happened to be the second Amazon truck that day and as I watched the driver place the package on the porch and take the necessary picture I briefly pondered the scope of a delivery network that can send different drivers to the same house on the same day.
Had they optimized their delivery system to fulfill a customer’s request within hours or was it simply an error in sorting and loading to the appropriate route. Although there are much smarter people than me designing networks and writing algorithms, I still tend to believe human error and simple mistakes are the most common answer why things happen. And because I still had a few gifts to buy and I actually still enjoy going out shopping I headed to our local mall.

I had recently seen a video while scrolling of a mall back in the 80’s. It was during the holiday season and the mall was packed with people. Decorations were everywhere and the line for Santa was never ending. Old favorite stores like Banana Republic, The Gap and WaldenBooks flashed by. Even though the video was short there was an excitement and buzz that was unrecognizable to today’s shopping experience. The caption of the video simply stated that today’s kids would never experience the excitement of a mall at Christmas.

Perhaps that’s true or maybe it’s just simply a bit of nostalgia for people of my generation to think back on. My mother fondly recalls taking a bus to downtown Detroit with her mother and spending an entire day shopping at Hudson’s department store. That too was an entirely different time and I’m sure she lamented the idea that malls had replaced department stores as I lament that online shopping has replaced malls.

The death of the mall began long ago and there are plenty of malls being repurposed for other uses most notably for housing or a combination of businesses and housing. Our mall while still open is a shadow of what it used to be. It had a nice run during the 80’s & 90’s. Everybody shopped there and although we knew it was smaller than other malls it still offered a wide variety of shopping and food choices.

But new trends emerge and habits change and the shopping mall belongs in a different time and place. As I walked around I noticed more elderly people walking for exercise than people actually shopping. The decorations were still hung and music played over the speakers but as I walked by Santa I noticed there was no line….he was talking to a lady dressed as Mrs. Claus, perhaps they were making plans for dinner or talking of favorite cookies.
My shopping experience was quick, the line at the checkout was short, and as I headed back out to the parking lot I couldn’t help but wonder what would become of our mall and would it even be here next Christmas.

As I pulled onto our road darkness was beginning to descend as winters grip took hold. An Amazon truck was headed towards me still out delivering. The ease and comfort of home delivery was just a few clicks away and an army of drivers was seemingly always ready.
Perhaps I’ll turn into that person that constantly talks of the old days of how things used to be…. I hope not, I realize things change and malls had their time and it was glorious for a while but the market speaks loudly and the shopping experience is not going back.
I headed inside to wrap the gifts I had bought, now there was something I really dread doing….wrapping….if Amazon had a wrapping service I’d probably take advantage of it.
It’s probably only a matter of time.

Peace and Love,

John

This is How it Begins

I stood in front of the refrigerator. I held the door open staring into the abyss for way too long. I was equally puzzled and amazed that there was so much stuff crammed into it. My wife had gone shopping the previous day and the new items combined with Thanksgiving leftovers the refrigerator had an overstuffed look and feel to it that resembled how I had felt most of the weekend. But since my wife had declared she wasn’t cooking anything until the leftovers were gone I grabbed the plastic containers from the bottom shelf and began preparing the last meal of this Thanksgiving weekend.

The turkey still looked good although not as appetizing as Thursday and the mashed potato’s and stuffing were awkwardly sharing the same plastic container crammed together like commuters on a overcrowded bus who can’t but help brush up against each other. I threw everything on a plate and zapped it in the microwave, added a slice of bread and gravy and settled in for the perfect comfort food on a cold mid-western day….the hot turkey sandwich. It was then I heard the new sound in our house, a beeping and whirring….it was my wife’s new “toy”….the Robo-Vac.

When future anthropologist begin studying our civilization and the inevitable demise of it I often wonder what they will declare was the beginning of the decline. Was it the continued invention of weapons for total destruction, or perhaps it was man’s desires for enrichment and pure simple greed. As I witnessed the Robo-Vac whirring and turning and beeping I became convinced we had just let into our home the very thing that will lead to our destruction.

My wife hates vacuuming, although you would never guess this by looking in the front closet. There sits 2 vacuums each when bought were declared to be the best and most efficient vacuums available. But lets face it no matter how you dress it up it’s still a vacuum and vacuuming is tedious and a bit difficult with the cord and various attachments. And if at this point you are saying to yourself that perhaps I should take over the vacuuming duties let me assure you that I have tried. My wife is just a bit of a germ-o-phobe and neat freak and did I mention her tendencies of obsessive compulsive behavior. Each of my attempts at cleaning usually leaves my wife muttering and declaring that she’ll “just do it herself.”

And this is how we ended up with a beeping, whirring, spinning, methodical disc going back and forth and forth and back across our carpets. After finishing off the leftovers ( I bet you thought this whole blog post would be about Thanksgiving leftovers )…… I proceeded to observe the Robo-Vac. I figured I should probably acquaint myself with the object of our extinction. It was slow and methodical. That’s how all the robots are programmed I deduced as a way to gain our trust. As it was still learning the layout of our house it became stuck in the corner of the spare bedroom. This is the bedroom that has my old tennis racquets and baseball ball bats leaning about and it somehow became wedged between a bat and tennis racquet. I smirked as I dislodged it thinking myself superior.

It soon finished and headed back to it’s charging station or dock as it calls it. I wonder as it sits there the rest of the day if it’s receiving instructions from some mainframe or perhaps a data center somewhere and soon it will implement the grand strategy. I picture it going into silent mode some night and creeping up into our bed and smothering us in our sleep and then going back to it’s dock and reporting to headquarters of it’s success eliminating the humans.

I opened the pantry door and stared into it, it also seemed overly stuffed……my wife breezed through the kitchen and as if reading my mind she said…. “there’s no more pie”….. I sighed and grabbed the box of Cheezits and slumped onto the couch. I pondered the Robo-Vac and it’s meaning as I mindlessly munched Cheezits and because I didn’t want to spend the whole day becoming the embodiment of the Thanksgiving couch potato I got up and brushed all the crumbs onto the carpet. I paused knowing full well what I had just done…. I shrugged…the Robo-Vac would be out again tomorrow and I figured it was better for all of us if he had something to actually vacuum up……best to keep the labor busy so it’s not plotting against us.

Peace and Love,

John

A Taste of Fall

I promised myself I wasn’t going to write about the time change. Our twice a year attempt to manipulate daylight usually leaves me with a feeling of dread and annoyance. Oh sure some people proclaim to love it, especially the fall back…… “we get an extra hour of sleep”…..people exclaim with excitement. As if 1 extra hour of sleep will make up for late night binging the latest series on Netflix. And if when presented with the gift of more time you want to slumber it away I say…. “hey go ahead, you do you”…..but I can’t tell myself to sleep longer any more than I can convince myself to fall asleep quicker. The body wants what the body wants. See, told you I wouldn’t drone on about time and space.

No today I will tackle a bigger, more wide ranging issue involving fall…….a little something called pumpkin spice.

Starbucks introduced their pumpkin spice lattes in the fall of 2003 selling approximately 20 million a year and launching a cultural phenomenon. Selling 20 million latte’s a year in a 90 day period of time means they’re selling over 18,000 latte’s an hour….think about that next time your in the drive thru behind 10 cars and all you want is a regular coffee.

Any trip to the grocery store beginning in the still sweltering months of August will reveal more and more pumpkin spice products. There’s the obvious ones that kinda make sense like breads, cookies, coffee, tea. But with each year the number of products with pumpkin spice continue to rise to staggering proportions. It’s become an industry in and of itself. Walk down any aisle and you can see a variety of a favorite item that now has a pumpkin spice offering. The cereal aisle has oatmeal, cereal, even the American icon the Pop Tart offers a pumpkin spice flavor. And yes there’s even pumpkin spice syrup for your pancakes or waffles, although walking through the freezer aisle reveals pumpkin spice frozen waffles so maybe you should top that with just regular syrup so you don’t fall into a pumpkin spice morning breakfast coma. The dairy aisle has pumpkin spice yogurt and cottage cheese, the snack aisle has popcorn, chips and pretzels, the cookie aisle has a wide variety of offerings……..hello pumpkin spice Oreo’s, do you come here often ?

I must admit I had absolutely no interest or even the faintest curiosity in any pumpkin spice product. I figured most of them would taste overly artificial and I would regret buying an entire package and end up throwing away most of it after it sat in my cupboard for far too long. But recently on a blustery, fall day with a bright sun shining and leaves blowing about I ventured into my local coffee shop with the express purpose of ordering a pumpkin spice latte. I figured if I enjoyed the product that launched an entire industry then perhaps I might branch out my interest and sample other products.

Admittedly my local coffee shop is not a Starbucks but it is a regional chain so I figured it must be very similar if not exactly like the Starbucks offering. The first few sips were warm and delightful, my taste buds were awakened. My curiosity was piqued…..it was then I started researching the beginnings of pumpkin spice and it all seems to lead back to Starbucks and their original latte.

I found so many stories about pumpkin spice and people trying to sample different products that as I sat there my latte soon grew cold and each sip became less satisfying until the end felt forced and artificial. Hmm, forced and artificial…..although I decided not to title this blog post forced and artificial it did seem appropriate that my first experience with a cultural phenomenon was exactly that. Perhaps there was a reason a spice that has been around seemingly forever never made a breakthrough until a giant corporation created a demand for it.

I headed out back into a glorious autumn day and I noticed a poster on the door I hadn’t seen when I entered. It was for a peppermint mocha latte that was soon to be available for the holiday season. Mmm, peppermint mocha latte….now that sounds like something I might just have to try.

Peace and Love,

John

A Face in the Yard

I awoke to the constant patter of a rain on the roof and windows. Better than any alarm clock, a gentle rain reminds you that nature is continuously at work. Is there anything better than falling asleep or awakening to rain. Although depending on your plans for the day, the rain may be greeted with dread, any outdoor activities might have to be rescheduled or completed in wet and miserable conditions. Who amongst us really likes being out in a cold rain ?

The rain didn’t last long and by sunrise it had been replaced by a cool, cloudless blue sky. The wind rustled the trees and the red and gold leaves that fell carpeted parts of the yard. But a morning rain, much like an unexpected guest, also presents an opportunity. Leaves become too wet to rake, wood too difficult to cut and split. Outdoor activities would be delayed. A comfy chair beckons, a book to be read or a show to be watched with no guilty feelings.

As I glanced outside again I noticed the scarecrow in the front yard. Pumpkins and cornstalks surrounded him keeping in company in a postcard setting of autumn. But the scarecrow was not facing the road for all to see, the wind had turned him around so he faced the house. In fact he seemed to be looking directly into the front window. He was soaking wet and his hat was askew, some of the straw filling had become so wet that it fell out of him and lay on the ground underneath him. He still had the same goofy smile plastered across his face, perhaps he was beckoning to me with his smile that it wasn’t so bad out in the rain and wind, or perhaps his smile and the fact that he was looking in the window meant he’d had enough, enough of the rain, the wind, the leaves blowing around him, perhaps he was tired of having a pole stuck through him, tired of wet coveralls and straw that itched him constantly. Perhaps the scarecrow was looking for a warm dry place to settle down for the day. Maybe he could see my comfy chair and big TV from the yard and he needed a break from his job as fall decoration.

I must admit, it was rather unnerving staring out the window with him staring back at me. His button eyes seemed to follow my every move. I went to another window and looked out, his eyes seemed to follow me knowing where I was. I hoped for a strong wind to spin him back around but he seemed riveted to this new position, and so I knew what I must do. Outside I went to straighten him out both metaphorically and physically. I turned him around to face the road, once again he assumed his proper position, a centerpiece among the pumpkins and cornstalks, a postcard picture of autumn.

I thought about somehow securing him so the wind couldn’t spin him any longer, so he couldn’t be facing the house looking in the front window contemplating my cozy environs. But I assured myself it had been a windy night and that as a scarecrow he was his happiest outside in the wind and rain fulfilling his destiny with a pole stuck up his back….who wouldn’t be ? As I walked away I glanced back and as I did so a gust of wind blew him back to face me, his goofy smile taunted me and then another gust blew him back to face the road. It was as if he was reminding me…. “go ahead, go inside, sit in your chair with your book and hot coffee…. I’ll be here in my wet coveralls with my straw filling and pole up my back but remember I’m just not here to scare away the birds and I just might be looking in the window when you awaken tomorrow.”

I did sit in my big chair with my coffee, but then as I looked outside I realized perhaps it wasn’t so bad out and wet leaves aren’t so bad to rake. An afternoon spent outside in the fall is a blessing and an opportunity. I also checked the calendar….only 10 more days till Halloween and then I can take that scarecrow down and decorate for Thanksgiving….turkeys love being outside right ?

Peace and Love,

John

Not What I Thought I’d Be Doing

I looked out the window of the sunroom and noticed the gutters were full of leaves and the yard was covered with so many leaves it was hard to see the grass underneath. At that moment I knew it was the perfect time to go on a bike ride.

What I also noticed was that the trees still had more than half their leaves still clinging to them. Much like the old adage of not shoveling the sidewalk while it’s still snowing, there’s not much point to raking leaves when their still falling. Today’s accomplishment will be drowned out by the steady cascade of falling leaves by the morning. The same principle applies to the gutters. Drag out the ladder, climb, scoop and clean out the gutters only gives an invitation for the remaining leaves to settle in there before hitting the ground.

As I was preparing to embark on my ride my wife mentioned her faucet in the bathroom was dripping.

“Mmmm”, I replied trying desperately to think of an escape……. “is it a drip……drip……or more like a drip, drip, drip?”

She sighed knowing my less than handy skills with plumbing, electrical or with anything that involves a tool…… “its a drip, then a little while later a drip.”

“Mmmm”…… I pondered knowing I would have to investigate. Just then my son jumped up off the couch and in a moment of leadership said he would look up how to fix it on YouTube. While he scrolled YouTube I eyed the offending faucet and slow drip on my knees in the bathroom. An ole worn out washer I thought might be the culprit…..a simple fix I hoped, knowing there is no such thing as a simple fix. I looked out the window, the leaves were falling like snow, an even better moment to get out side and not rake them.

“It’s quite simple”……my son declared ( he obviously hasn’t realized yet about the fallacy of the simple solution )

“There’s a cartridge inside the handle we just need to pop off and replace.” I had never heard of said cartridge and I was quite sure it wouldn’t be easy to “just pop it off”….but he seemed determined and I certainly admired his take charge attitude so I watched as he unscrewed the handle revealing the plastic cartridge.

A few minutes later he went for the toolbox and I knew the chance of a simple solution were dwindling as fast as the leaves on the trees. Crescent wrench, pliers, vise grips were all applied in the ensuing minutes, all with no success of removing the cartridge. Perhaps because the faucet was almost 20 years old and worn out, but removal was proving more difficult than what appeared on YouTube.

I could go off on a side tangent about how every fix it project on YouTube appears easy until your elbows deep into it or I could say that perhaps why we lament the lack of focus and commitment in our youth is because life isn’t as simple as YouTube and life gets messy and staying with a project or work assignment that involves way more commitment than anticipated has it’s own rewards……but I won’t. The easy fix is never easy, the work project will be difficult and it will involve working with others and getting along and working together. Life really doesn’t happen on YouTube or Reels or SnapChat….it happens with each other at work or at home with family.

That was a bit of a tangent I didn’t plan on…..the time it took to write that was about the same time my son, having exhausted all the pliers and gripping tools, pried off the cartridge with a screwdriver. He triumphantly handed it to me…. “see told you it was easy”…….it was my turn to sigh and exclaim that it wasn’t exactly fixed and being only half done meant we were only half done.

A trip to the hardware store where surprisingly we were able to find the cartridge with no help from any salesclerk, not that there were any around and soon the new cartridge was installed. I once again got down on my knees and turned the faucet to see if the drip was lessened. My wife peered behind me…..there was a drip but only one….success I claimed. My wife ever the realist said….. “you should have gotten two because the cartridge in the other handle probably should be replaced and while your there pickup a new door handle because that’s loose too.”

By this time my son had skeedaddled to work seemingly having already learned the most valuable lesson…….that one fix is never simple and one project just leads to another one.

As I drove yet again to the hardware store I noticed what a beautiful fall day it was. The leaves continued to fall nestling comfortably in the yard and gutters….a project for another day.

Peace and Love,

John