The email said if I want to do a better job of pulling in new readers and retaining old ones I ought to write stuff that doesn’t make me sound crazy or bore people.
It made me smile because I have been called crazy or worse for as long as I can remember and if you saw how long my beard has gotten you might say the same.
Or maybe not.
I don’t wear a sweater when someone else is cold or jump just to amuse others. It is not my thing.
Apparently it is not my son’s other either, go figure.
How Crazy People Bore Know-It-Alls
The purge I began last year continues and I am continuing to let go and shake loose the people and things that no longer have a place in my life.
When I made the decision to be like the sky diver in the shot above I knew it was time to push harder to start fresh in a lot of areas and to search for my wings or a parachute on the way down.
There have been some rough moments and I haven’t been certain I won’t just slam into the ground but even if I do I am confident I’ll survive.
That is not my preference, mostly because the bruises, aches and pains don’t fade as quickly as they did when I was 19, but they still go away.
Action with purpose is useful.
The flight back home to Texas from LA was uncomfortable but not for the obvious reason.
It was because I sat next to a woman who spilled over from her seat into mine.
I wanted to be kind and compassionate because it is the right thing to do and it is the kind of example I want to set for my kids but she made it really awkward.
Crop top, tattoos and spandex plus major attitude on her part didn’t make it any easier for me.
I almost always take an aisle seat and my the corner of my shoulder often extends beyond so that it sometimes gets bumped by carts and or people walking by.
She was constantly turning to talk to her boyfriend or shuffling in the carry-on at her feet I was constantly being banged into.
It wouldn’t have been hard to have say “excuse me” just one time instead of pretending that it was turbulence causing me to bounce around the cabin.
Although air travel has grown far more difficult than it was in pre-9-11 days I am forever amazed at how one day you can be in one place and the next another.
I woke Sunday morning in Los Angeles and went to sleep in a different place thousands of miles away.
That is pretty cool.
I had a good time watching a real fight between my kids.
Giant Rock’Em, Sock’Em robots and a ton of laughter and smiles on their part made for a lot of fun, not to mention the pleasure of watching them hang out together.
They get along far more than they don’t and I am glad for that because a good sibling relationship is invaluable.
Your relationship with your spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend is important and a good one is invaluable but your siblings understand some things that no one else can.
They were there when a lot of the crazy stuff from your childhood took place and sometimes what you really need is someone who understands the reason you respond to certain things is because of those moments long ago.
Speaking of Crazy
That 16-year-old son of mine is growing like a weed and though he isn’t my height, he is getting there.
It used to be I had to look down to make eye contact and now I just sort of tilt my head.
He still isn’t big enough to wear my shoes, gloves or shirts but he is close enough he could get by with some of them.
That is surreal.
Always knew it would happen and that one day it would be normal but one day used to be so far off I didn’t pay attention.
Now I know it is closer than ever and that the days of his living under my roof are growing shorter.
A decade ago it was hard to imagine that one day he would be living on his own and now when I look forward ten years it is possible to imagine a house with no kids.
How did that happen.