The Great Hunt

It seems that I am the only one in this café not on the typical lunch hour. Their stiff suits, pleated skirts, hair-sprayed hair and Franklin Covey calendars give them away as business professionals. I however, hide out here in the corner behind my laptop wearing my faded jeans, sand suede shoes and worn out polo under my track-jacket. Its situations like this reminding me I am a road warrior. I am not your vacation road warrior, but your business road warrior. The warrior, who lives out of a car, works odd hours, sits in daily traffic scanning for a decent radio station, changes clothes in a public restroom and eavesdrops on random conversations in places like these….a quaint café on the side road offering free wireless.

No matter how out of place I am I sit here curious to know what these people do with their lives. Each conversation I hear is drastically different. Some are louder than others while some are just plain pointless, at least to me. However I am the stranger in the room craving to join them in conversation just to feel at home and possibly blend in.

A few nights ago I was a guest at a dinner party in a friend’s family member’s home. I have met some of her family members before, but this particular evening I met a few new ones over a hot meal of brisket and fresh vegetables. Over the course of dinner the conversation jumped from topic to topic including one about hunting. Having never hunted anything in my life (except for a good find on a sale rack) I remained quite unless asked a specific question about hunting. At one point I jokingly said that in Oregon we care more about recycling, wearing flannel and hugging our trees than killing animals which was received with good laughter at the sarcasm I threw out. Various animals were mentioned and stories were told as I listened intently to a life style I was not familiar with. Eventually I was asked if I had ever been snipe hunting before in which I replied, “No, but I went fishing once!” I’m sure I shocked the family that I had only been fishing once, but the conversation stayed on snipe hunting as one family member went into detail about the event involving a duck, pillow case, flashlight, patience and the fun that is had by all in attendance. Another family member spoke up mentioning that we could go snipe hunting down the street as I wrinkled my brow and questioned aloud, “you can literally walk down the street, kill the animal before coming home and cooking it for the dinner table?” “This is Texas!” my friend sitting to my right said, which honestly made sense of it all. Only in Texas would you find such an event.

Later on the drive back to my friend’s house she openly admitted that snipe hunting was in fact not a real thing. With my shoulders drooping I was slightly disappointed that I had fallen for a gimmick. She went on to explain that snipe hunting is a common joke for the foolish in which they take someone (me) to a field and eventually leave them out there stranded and laughing at their own misfortune. I couldn’t help but laugh as I sat there in the backseat thinking back to my reactions and facial expressions earlier at the dinner table. They knew they had me at the beginning of the conversation and held me there until my friend caved in and told me the truth, nearly three hours later. She quickly followed up that she would have stopped the event if such a thing was carried out, but since no one in her family was taking the initiative she sat there egging on the conversation. What I believed was the truth, was in deed far from it.

As I sit here in the cafe corner eavesdropping on the various conversations surrounding me I wonder what the truth is. Is it me sitting here trying to blend in, or the locals trying to catch up over a plate of sandwiches and chips. It’s something about the stiffness of the corporate lunch hour….the deals settled, the cordial handshake, the signatures signed on the last page. It’s all invaded this café. It’s the snipe hunt these business men and women are after. They’re looking to earn the paycheck, move up the corporate ladder and retire in abundance. Quite possibly we’re all after the snipe hunt. We’ve all been fooled thinking if we can just earn a bit more money, get a better title, the corner office, etc. then life will be better.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll put on the suit, shine up my shoes and join the rest of the corporate lunch hour world hoping to make few more bucks. That is after I spend a few bucks on the lunch meal. If I fail, then I’ll ask some fool at the table next to me if they want to go snipe hunting. If nothing else it will provide a good laugh as I sit lonely in a strange town making more money for the big boss back in the office.

The Alien Among Us

From the backseat where I sat I watched the rain fall outside the car window. It was the first rain I had seen since mid October. The night before I was lying in my hotel bed when the rain first started. It was a welcome sound as it hit my window that shook with the accompanying thunder. I was so pleased with the rain that I got up and watched it for a few minutes before climbing back under the thin covers leaving the floral window curtains open for optimum viewing. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest where rain is as plentiful as brick is here in Oklahoma.

It hit me on the car ride road home how addicted I am to the sun. I slept in a bit that morning, had my usual caffeine and even a full breakfast. Yet there I was at ten-something in the morning still feeling like I woke up two minutes ago. I started feeling scared that I have distanced myself from the rain….something I thought I would never do.

To brighten the mood I popped in season one of ALF into my DVD player and invited my fellow passengers to join me in reliving old childhood memories. The memories of watching a little alien living with a family of four as if every family on the neighborhood street had a hairy long-nosed alien living with them. It didn’t seem odd to me growing up, but if that type of show was on TV today I would never give it two minutes. ALF was one of my favorite shows growing up. My fellow passengers laughed at my invitation and told me how odd it was that I Netflixed both season one and two. Asking what I liked about the show I replied that it was ALF’s sarcasm. It was there in that moment that I realized where my sarcasm came from. I am blessed with two incredible parents but they lack the sarcasm that overflows from my being. I’ve wondered before where I picked up this trait while my parents have prayed that I quickly lose it. So I’m here today to proclaim that ALF was a bad influence on me growing up. Mom and Dad, blame it on the oversized static-filled black box that sat on the table across the living room. It was the hairy long-nosed alien we allowed into our house once a week that taught me to be quick on my toes and make everyone around me laugh. It was ALF who taught me sarcasm.

On the drive home the rain stopped shortly after crossing the Oklahoma border. I was blessed with a short rain experience in Dallas this past weekend but came home to the bright sun. My mood perked up with the sun but here I am tonight hoping for a rainy day to come soon. I’m ready to start season two of ALF.

A can of coke for caffeine intake........75-cents

A root canal today at 11am..................................$168

Skipping work the rest of the day............PRICELESS

A request.

Please pray for my 'cousin' Wendy. The doctors noticed a few complications in her pregnancy and induced her labor this week....6-weeks earlier than planned. A few days later while in surgery, the doctors noticed an aggressive cancer on her ovaries and intestines. This news came out to the family this morning, which is devastating. The baby will remain in the hospital for a few more weeks while Wendy stays put for another week or so. She is only 28....too young to experience this pain. Chemo will be starting soon, once word comes back on the specific type of cancer the doctors found. Thanks for your prayers.

something new...

I was bored with the former template. I like change and I like it often.

Everything Changes

With her elbows resting on the table and chin propped up in her hands she admitted she was scared out of her mind. She hasn’t admitted that to anyone yet but somehow it slipped out the other night as we waited for our pizza to carry home. With her half eaten salad sitting in front of her I thought I’d dig for some info before she packs up and starts a new life out east.

Having grown up only two hours from here she hasn’t left her comfort zone and experienced something new. Though she can’t pinpoint it exactly there’s something out there saying she needs to make a change in her life. She has no job lined up, yet she's taking a large leap to move far from home and see what happens from there. From this viewpoint the grass is greener on the other side to her. I’ll ask her again in a few months, once she’s settled in, if the grass is still green or not.

It hit me that night how everything changes. With those few extra minutes on our hands while waiting for the pizza, we were able to dwell on the fact that life is changing quicker than expected and yet it’s all okay and a bit crazy.

Lately I’ve been wishing for an “Ah Ha” moment….the moment described by some as realizing something for the first time. Perhaps solving a personal problem or finding the answer to something troubling all the sudden…I need that moment pretty soon. Maybe it’s the rut I feel like I’m in, but I curious to know if the “Ah Ha” moment is a real thing, a real experience. For my friend sitting across the table she said it was real. Though it was scary to accept the idea of moving at first, it hit her like an “Ah Ha” moment and suddenly she was at peace.

Yesterday afternoon while reading the Sunday paper I took a quick glance at my horoscope. I don’t religiously follow horoscopes but it’s a habit of mine to look at it every Sunday just to see what kind of good laugh it can give me. However, there I sat yesterday in shock as I read, “Fight off moods of laziness and inertia. Take an active approach to organizing the affairs of your life and mapping out your path to success.”

So maybe it’s not an “Ah Ha” moment I need. Maybe I’m in the right spot at the right time. Maybe it’s just me thinking the grass is greener on the other side. However, I guess I’ll stay put and work at keeping the grass on my side green.

Quick, I need a two cans of green spray paint!

Old-Fashion Traditions

I sit here in the solitude of my office satisfying my craving for a lunch break. I’m not a sandwich fan, but my options were small today as this was the only thing hanging around my kitchen this morning. Somehow I forgot the best part of my lunch, which solemnly sits on the top shelf in my refrigerator at home. An oversized slice of chocolate cake with a sweet white sauce drizzled over sits there untouched. I spoiled myself and took home a dessert after dinner out with a friend two nights ago. How could I have forgotten that this morning? If I had brought that in and left my sandwich at home I would have cared less about the bread and meat sitting solemnly on the counter. I guess its okay though. It gives me something to look forward to when I step into my back door this evening after work. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with eating dessert before dinner.

Last night I enjoyed a dinner invitation from a neighbor across the street. She and her husband cooked dinner for me and my other neighbor next door. I quickly accepted the dinner invitation not for the free home cooked meal, but for the satisfaction of sitting around a dinner table conversing over great food and drinks. I slightly think I’m a bit old fashioned in this manner.

Gypsy runs in the family blood, but somewhere in there I believe there’s a bit of Italian. Great memories for me involve the dinner table encircled with friends and family from all walks of life. It seems this tradition has been let go by so many people in today’s society. Little leagues sports, PTA meetings, hard copy news on the flat screen…it’s all out there distracting us from the sturdy wood table that sits empty in our dining rooms collecting last weeks mail. What does it take to bring us back to the table? The dining room is my favorite room in any house. The table brings us together to share stories, heartaches, laughter and tears. I encourage you to set out the dishes, fill up the glasses and invite someone over to share it with. Forgo the nearest diner that’s filled with strangers and interruptions. Instead share your home and open your heart. Lastly, don’t forget to invite me.

My lousy no good day

I lay here under four blankets hiding from today ready for a new tomorrow.

I barely slept last night due to some excruciating pain in my upper jaw that I’d been experiencing for three days. I finally crashed around 8am this morning only to wake up at noon and realize I missed church. My house sat silent all day while I sat still wondering what the day had in store for me.

Though the world seemed perfect outside with temperatures hanging in the seventies I felt my world was missing something. My life puzzle felt like it was missing a vital piece to complete the over all picture. I thought at first it was due to a lack of caffeine so I drove to my nearest convenience store and bought my usual Sunday papers and a large Coke. I scoured both newspapers today looking for something to spark my interest…any story or public notice that could take my mind off the silence I was experiencing. I read four different classified sections (two online) looking for a new job hoping that one would pop right out and give me a dream to think about for at least the next hour. I watched half of one movie and cleaned my whole house hoping something would give me motivation. Yet nothing made me feel like the one piece was put into place. As I felt realized nothing was going to fill my void today I stepped outside and walked a few miles basking in the warm sun only to come home and feel empty again. This day was turning into a no good day.

My pain never subsided until around dinner when I ventured out to get some Chinese take-out…..a staple in any single man’s diet. On my way to grab some sweet and sour chicken I was lost in thought when I realized that I had turned down the wrong intersection and would need to cut thru the neighborhood to order at my usual spot. Without a second thought I cut thru a side street before coming to a stop sign and turning right. After turning onto the main street a bright spot light came thru my back window followed by flashing red and blue lights causing me to signal and pull over on another side street on my right. Frustrated and curious, I rolled down my window, lowered my music level and located my license in my wallet as the cop approached. “License and insurance please,” the officer said. “Yes, sir. Here you go,” I replied. “If you’re going to fail to stop at a stop sign don’t do it in front of a police car next time,” the officer said with a look of disapproval on his face. “I’m sorry sir, but I thought I did stop correctly,” I stated before he cut me off and said, “Oh now you’re lying to me!” He shook his head and walked back to his car mumbling “idiot” under his breath as I sat in silence staring at the constant blur of red and blue lights in my rear view mirror. This day was only getting worse.

Minutes passed in slow motion as I soon realized that I was definitely getting a ticket. No officer would take this much time if I were only getting a warning. After coming to this realization my heart started beating faster than normal and my jaw started hurting again as anger formed inside of me. “Sign here” the officer said as he lowered his ticket pad thru my window and into my hands. Signing my signature in the sloppiest form possible he continued in a hateful voice, “Next time don’t lie to an officer because he might just let you off with a warning.” This was followed by him ripping the carbon copy ticket from his pad and tossing it into my lap. The officer started walking back to his car as I leaned out and said, “Sir I apologize.” In that moment I wanted to share a few of my thoughts with him and how I realized he was having a bad day but he shouldn’t take it out on me. After all it’s my tax dollars paying his salary, but I came to my senses after picturing myself in a jail cell with some freaks overnight. Waiting for response I realized that he had kept walking and was ignoring me when I apologized. So again, I leaned out farther and yelled “SIR…..I SAID I WAS SORRY!” This time he stopped, shrugged his shoulders and walked on…all without looking at me in the eyes. After looking over the handy little brochure that my ticket came with I realized he didn’t want to look at me in the eyes because he was charging me $172 for his idea of a lousy stop.

I’m not quite sure why in that moment I felt like apologizing, but I was mad that he accused me of lying. I handled the situation in a polite manner and felt the need to discuss the situation but realized I was not going to be afforded that luxury. I eventually picked up my Chinese and headed home to collapse on my couch. It didn’t take long for me to realize that today wasn’t meant for me. Today was my lousy no good day.

New Year. New Sizes.

I was standing there in the poorly lit dressing room analyzing why they couldn’t fit. For once I wasn’t concentrating on my fear of stepping painfully on straight pins that some person haphazardly threw on the carpet when trying an item on. Instead I was standing there wondering what’s happened to my body this past year. One leg after another I slipped the trendy jeans on seeing if I needed to fork over too much money for something I would possibly wear too much. One can never go wrong with a good pair of jeans no matter how much they are used. They can be dressed up or down, picked up from the dirty clothes pile without anyone knowing, or even thrown in my luggage. And they still somehow never wrinkle by the time I unpack them. Yet there I stood with good posture, sucking my stomach in, over-analyzing my current state of being.

This time last year I succeeded in losing 10-pounds. For some I’m sure it’s hard to imagine me needing to lose that much, but it was a personal goal and I won. For years I couldn’t gain a pound no matter how much I ate. I had high a metabolism rate to which I would give anything to be back at right now. After college I finally began to gain a pound or two. It was in October of ‘03 when I had outgrown my dairy allergies and really began to gain some weight (or really gain one pound). My weight gain is nothing significant…just that it hangs around 25-pounds more than I weighed when I graduated high school eight years ago. I’m still skinny to most people’s opinions, but it’s my waist size that has me disappointed.

To my dismay shortly after the holiday season last year I put those 10-pounds back on. My goal to lose that weight before Christmas was achieved. However, I naively thought I could maintain my weight.

Here I am one year later and I’ve done nothing to keep the weight off. Nor have I put any extra on. Only when standing there in the dressing room did I realize that with the New Year starting shortly did I need to set another weight goal. I was standing there with my usual-size jeans wrapped around my legs and they just didn’t feel right. I started getting nervous in the dressing room as I accepted the disappointment yet I couldn’t bring myself to try on another size. Maybe it was a fluke this time, the one pair I tried on was a faulty pair I thought. However, I didn’t want to chance it and prove myself wrong. So without a second thought I proudly returned the jeans to the shelf and walked out of the store.

The next time I find myself in a poorly lit dressing room…..well nevermind. It’s a new year and this means it’s a new year for new sizes. Meaning, new sizes of the meals I eat and the amount of water I drink. I hope you all can follow your New Year resolutions as I start mine this week.

Happy New Year!