What Is This New World Forming?

I had an encounter this morning where someone had argued that Baby, It's Cold Outside was contained dangerous messages in it. I countered with my argument that the assertion was ridiculous and further counter-productive to the idea of feminism.

The person sharing his perspective was younger, and I would surmise that many of my younger friends would share a similar opinion to his. I don't want to point the finger at "the younger generation," but I do now appreciate things said to me that I dismissed when I was that "younger generation."

It's Just A TV Show

First of all ***SPOILERS*** in case you have this on DVR and have yet to watch it, but here are my thoughts on How I Met Your Mother.
 

How You Doing?

At the beginning of the year, I recreated my FaceBook profile and destroyed the old one. This post is not about why I did that but rather the connections I lost when doing so. Today, I worked through some old lists, my phone contacts, etc, to reconnect with many people who slipped through the cracks of my profile upgrade.

Moving At The Speed Of Life

I have so many thoughts, and so many blessings have occurred I’ve been unable to share. I want to write more blog posts, but life keeps getting in the way.
 

Perhaps I can use my own blog as a notepad of outlines for future things to discuss. Then maybe those who have remained loyal to reading my sparse and inconsistent statements could even vote on what I should detail when I find the time.
 

Top Thoughts:
 

• More details about our misadventures of elopement
• The adjustment to married life: the good and the out-of-practice
• My Wife: Incredible Blessing and Unfairly Outcast
• Rachel’s new boyfriend and how a seasoned dad handles this new hurdle
• Kara’s surgery and details about RETT and the trip to Houston
• A Visit from Russ (and the Price of Admission)
• Social Media and my new personal policies on FaceBook
• Home Improvements, New Purchases and how to keep it all in balance
• Reasons for Stability: A View of the Social Value of Money
• Secrets I’ve Kept Private (but am willing to announce)
• Wedding Photos, Slideshow…Better Presentation than a FB Album
• Summer Movies – and my plan to sneak away and watch them
• How Apolitical I’m Feeling Lately
• Next School Year: The Challenges
• Thoughts on lightening up, smelling roses and just laughing more
 

Okay, that’s my running list. Tell me what you think and what you'd like to have to discuss, explain or just plain rant about. I promise to set aside some time and post a little more often.
 

Project Post-Mortem

The room-makeover project was a wonderful experience in many ways. As I mentioned before, it was nice to see the results of my efforts in an obvious and tangible way. So much of what I do at work and in my relationships don’t have that sort of real evidence. It was a great reminder that a good effort made does yield a good outcome.

Secondly, this was a physical work effort, something I’ve been unable to do for several weeks. That measure may be shy too. Not only am I healed from my surgery, but I now realize how much I hurt prior to it and did not recognize it. To be physically normal again is an amazing blessing and is having a “runneth over” effect on my psyche as well.

Perhaps it’s Providence that I was in so much pain while I was recently engaged. I’m convinced we were not meant to be – or at least we were not joining together for the right reasons. That said; I can see where much of my physical pain created anger, frustration and reactions from me that probably would not have ordinarily been there. In truth, that uncomfortableness probably is the blame for our break-up, which is both sad and fortunate.

As I said, there were unspoken issues that would have made our coupling difficult, but at the same time, it is heartbreaking to think we called off a lifetime together over a hernia. But alas, I now look at this somewhat like a vacation. My three-month engagement was beautiful, exciting, thrilling and wonderful; it was a great place to visit, but living there isn't something I will do. Just because the vacation comes to an end, doesn’t mean I feel bad for not having moved there. I don't have to be angry that the vacation is over. I still think of the visit fondly and with beautiful memories. Vacations are often high points of life that are remembered always.

But now it is back to reality and living where I am, no longer on that vacation. There are many wonderful things about “living at home” too. It’s comfortable; it’s safe; it doesn’t have to be about the next big thrill. I am free to be “me” again – and now that I am no longer in pain, I really have returned home to the me I really am.

So, all of that from painting my bedroom. Not to mention, I have a great looking room too. I wonder what revelations my next home project will bring.

What Difference Does It Make

This week has been a strange one, but as Shakespeare said, "All's well that ends well." And this week did end well for me in the sense of personal and emotional comfort in many ways.

I had many issues flaring up this week, most of which I did not handle well early on. Stress was at one of the highest points it has been probably in the past five years. However, some specific moments of clarity befell me, and life in so many areas started to become far less burdensome. The problems or the pain still existed, but my perspective changed - and that made a huge difference.

So to better explain, I am going to share a specific struggle - one I've written a lot about this past month, my recent break-up. I contemplated whether or not to share this specific topic because in the past she had expressed discomfort with me blogging about her. However, after a moment of consideration, I realized what I'm about to state is ever-so-much not about her; it is about me.

I came to some very real honesty about me, how I felt, and the angry side I harbored over the break-up. For events involving my former fiancée this week, I had both poor and mannerly responses. Nonetheless, I did reach a point of healthy closure and took a therapeutic exercise to accept that closure. Doing so, freed my heart in an amazing way. My thoughts still go back to our time together; she lived in this house and we spent time together at many places I still frequent - so there is an unavoidable nostalgia that exists.

However, my thoughts are no longer weepie or angry. I am able to look at these memories with a strange and wonderful fondness. Whether a fool or not, I loved this woman very much. How she felt in return cannot diminish what I gave and cannot lessen what I felt. And I am no longer making myself be responsible for whatever it was she felt, didn't feel, what she did or didn't do. What difference does that make? I know what I had (and still have) and what I felt (and still feel) and I can enjoy and cherish those intangibles that live within me. Those don't have to be affected by anyone or any event outside of me.

Yes, through therapy this week, through gaining new insight about trust and relationships, through personal conversations with others, my outlook (regardless of my circumstance) is strong in many areas of my life where I struggled only a few days ago. Yes, it has been a strange but good week.

Gratitude

It's gritty; it's vulgar; it's sexist - but it's honest. It doesn't discuss how things should be; it presents things how they really are. As I strive to improve my character and my world, it is important not to forget the actuality of this imperfect place.

I've just finished the book, Things My Daughters Need to Know, by Rodney L. Demery, a homicide detective from Shreveport and a man not many would consider gentlemanly when it comes to his personal history with women. However, there is still a strange sense of honor to the author, as he reveals secrets of the darker sides of men's thoughts and motives towards the other gender.

Also he advises women how to avoid the lies and tricks that men themselves often aren't aware they do. He also explains how to seek out men of higher character and how to experience happiness, debunking much of the popular thinking about modern women finding male companionship...and sometimes it isn't delivered with a sugar-coating.

I particularly liked how he admits to his mistakes, holding himself accountable for them. At the same time he expresses that everyone is responsible for his or her own happiness as well. The idea of not stewing in the past because it will prevent one from enjoying the present and the future struck me in particular today.

...a woman must know herself. I want my daughters to know their happiness is their responsibility. Don't hold grudges or carry bitterness. It doesn't help you. It just weighs you down. If he cheats on you, don't sit around blaming him. Don't let someone else hold your emotions hostage. Lick your wounds and go on. Whatever love you are blessed to find, enjoy it. Enjoy it that day, without worrying about tomorrow. Submit to that love. I'm not saying abandon all common sense, but let your emotional guard down and take it all in. Whether the love lasts a minute or ten years, enjoy it.

This selection from Demery's book has true wisdom in it. It acknowledges pain and recovery, Most of all it focuses on the appreciation for the blessings in life without measuring or comparing them to other things. Although we often forget to do this, an experience can be and should be enjoyed by its own accord.

I like this - and needed it. Today I stopped to remember some of the great moments in my life...and I have become just a little more grateful for them.

The Weepies

I’m sure those who read my blog are beginning to tire of my lachrymose attitude over my recent break-up. I’ve written numerous posts lately about my struggle and introspection. “Get over it already” some would say. Others may even be hoping I’ll make an opposing political post, just to have a different topic.

In truth, I’m moving on fairly well; however, there are unexpected moments where a memory floods back – often happy, but some are deeply sad. Songs are especially memorializing. When “Gotta Have You” by The Weepies or “Fall For You” by Secondhand Serenade plays from my random list, they evoke a powerful emotional response in me still. Oddly, I even found myself tearing up at a baby commercial the other day.

The truth is I am a very passionate person. Sometimes that’s a beautiful thing; sometimes I’m down-right ugly with it. And it was with ugly passion that this relationship ended. I realize that I had some guilt and regret over the episode, wishing I had handled it more maturely. But I am also reminded of the phrase my ex-wife used to say, “If things didn’t end poorly, they probably wouldn’t end.”

Nonetheless, I have a few therapy sessions left. So, I will probably have a few thoughts left to express here over the next few weeks, but my life is returning much more to its normalcy. And I’m finding my way once again, and soon I will walk even taller than I did before we got together.

One important event that has happened, which I am even hesitant to mention, is I have had some subtle contact with her. It has been for a very legitimate reason, but it did permit some clearing of the air and closure to happen. In earnest, it also stirred some confusion in me as well.

However, perhaps the most important thing that happened during this exchange is I was able to let loose of the resentment I held against her – to forgive her so to speak. It wasn’t anything I confessed or items I listed for her to know, but simply a quiet letting go. I also apologized for the ugliness of my passion at the end. Because of that, I was able to forgive myself, and hopefully she can forgive me as well.

Where we two go now is still a mystery. There was clearly a common interest we shared to hope to build a life together, but the truth is we are different people on different paths. Being casual friends with a beautiful memory of our time together is the most likely result. However, I am pleased to have a more melodious decrescendo to the current song in the soundtrack of my life.

Wax Off

Today in church, the etymology of the word “sincere” was discussed. Let me disclaim that the story cannot truly be corroborated, but that’s not really the point. Consider this a Liberty-Valance moment and permit me to print the legend.

The word derives from the Romans’ love for marble statues. These were very difficult to sculpt without breakage. So the typical sculptor would re-attach broken parts (limbs and so on) with wax (cera) and cover it up so the wax would not be seen. However, the best stores would only sell the best statues, the ones which were whole and unbroken. They had a sign above the store saying: “Sine Cera,” without wax.

Myth or not, this had a profound effect on me today. There are two reasons. First is because of a particular phrase that my former fiancé said to me just a few days prior to our finality. She expressed how I wasn’t quite the knight in shining armor she had believed me to be and now she saw there were cracks in my armor. I don’t fault her for this and it would be improper to reveal the full context, but it was said in an honest and respectable way.

The second reason complements the first. The lesson in church was about parenting children and this specific point was about demonstrating a sincere faith – because children learn from what they observe, not what they hear. If parents wax-coat their behavior and try to fool their children, it is insincere and the folly will be revealed. To truly be sincere with your children, you must allow the flaws, the cracks, the imperfections be revealed.

This concept is true for anyone with whom I connect. For there to be any honest sincerity with my children, with my friends, with my peers or with my lover – I must be unafraid to admit to my imperfections. If I try to hide them, conceal them, deny them, then I probably am only exposing them and fooling myself. I must accept myself, flaws and all, before I can trust someone else with those secrets…or what I think I’m keeping secret.

At the same time, this doesn’t mean I have to like my flaws or be complacent about them. To say, “I have anger issues and that’s just how I am, so the world will have to adapt to my tantrums!” is not reasonable, but it is the dangerous other end of the spectrum in this view. I am not a marble statue. I can have personal growth, heal and seal the cracks…or at least lessen their depth.

All in all, the point is about me being honest. I’ve long said I know my strengths and weaknesses – and I do. While I don’t want to advertise my flaws, I do recognize that my ego makes me insecure and insincere about them. Today’s dose of humility hasn’t been easy to swallow, but its restorative powers are precisely what I need to be a better human being.

What Stands Behind Me

When recently sharing with close friends a dispute I had with my ex-wife, I came to think on who I am when I am single and unattached compared with the person I am when I am in a relationship. Clearly, we function somewhat differently by the very nature of the role and interdependency. However, I am now considering my decisions, thought-process and successful life-navigation in each scenario.

This contemplation stemmed from a ridiculous accusation that I am unable to take care of myself and since the divorce others must resolve problems trailing behind me. This claim was near-immediately dismissed because of the evidence to the contrary that came to mind. Without listing everything, let me summarize. Over the past five year post-divorce, I am now more accomplished and more effective in my career, spend more meaningful time with my daughters, manage my finances far more effectively, and I purchased a new home.

There is a certain ironic vindication best exemplified by the house because the only woman who assisted in any way was my realtor (and she was completely professional). However, there were some women who after visiting my new house seemed impressed and perplexed I was able to select so well without their help. Now, I’m not a mind-reader, so I can’t be sure…but I believe egos may have been bruised and suspicions laid that I didn’t act on my own.

There’s a play on the famous proverb which states “Behind every successful man is a very surprised mother-in-law.” However, in my case, I believe it would be better phrased to say “an ex in denial.”

All joking aside, this has led me to consider if I make better decisions when I am flying solo. Do I lose my good judgment when I’m romantically involved? Perhaps my teamwork skills are just poor. Perhaps I fear disappointing my partner. Or perhaps the women I select are…what word should I choose…stronger than I can handle. I suppose it’s possible I’m just not built to be married – I’ve never considered that before.

At any rate, my journey of self-discovery and life renovation continues.

Weird Science

I’m not sure of the average age of the readers of my blog, but those who are around mine will remember the classic 80s movie, Weird Science. It starred the master-geek of the decade, Anthony Michael Hall, as a kid who creates a sexy woman, played by Kelly LeBrock, by hacking into the internet (before we called it that) and downloading vast knowledge and power into a sentient being.

Yes, it was one of those highly believable plots from the 80s with testosterone-filled geeks trying to figure out what to do with it. Plus, the second “jerk role” for a young Bill Paxton, after being stabbed by the Terminator. Also there was some other antagonist in the film who grew up to be Iron-Man…but I digress.

At a latter part of the film, four boys wearing bras on their heads are trying to recreate the process as a bartered deal to trade another sexy-fembot-like woman for the geeks’ popularity. Of course, this fails because they missed a step, which results in a nuclear missile appearing. This really makes sense if you’ve seen the film.

At this moment, the sexy but matronly original creation appears to summarize the basic idea behind the film. Lisa asks the boys, “When are you gonna learn that people will like you for who you are, not for what you can give them?” Of course, this is when she lures the Road-Warrior mutants to the party to prove the boys’ true honorable character. Again, it really makes sense.

Nonetheless, in my honest inventory of who I am, who I attract, who I want to be with (both friends and lovers) – this concept has become an important topic of my psyche. This also feeds into the fear of success concept from my previous post. I forget that I have intrinsic value just by my own character. I forget that I don’t have to purchase the affections of other people. I forget that when someone loves me, unconditionally and just for being me, then I don’t have to fear a repression in the economy of my gifts or deeds.

Now – this doesn’t mean I can be a do-nothing, bring-nada-to-the-table jerk and demand others to respect me. But what it does mean is that I don’t have to impress anyone in exchange for friendliness or offer a favor to receive fondness. While living over four decades now, I still struggle with this junior-high insecurity; and it lives larger in my heart than I realized.

Lastly, I’m not saying that any of my friends reciprocate their affinity towards me because I feel this way or do these things. I’m not saying my ex-wife or my former fiancé only loved me because of how I performed or items I bought. I believe those in my life, past and present, are not so shallow for this to be the only factor. However, I did practice this art, whether I knew it or not – and in doing so, it sent a message to others that it was okay to use me…and probably at times, people did – and I allowed it, and allowed it guilt-free.

Something new to work on. But this is good. As I said previously, I’m building my character anew from the wreckage of my life-ship which went off course. My goal, as always, is to be honest about my brokenness, fess up to it and take the responsibility. Then mend myself with the help of friends, family and the Father. Perhaps not everyone believes I do that, but I don’t have to prove it to them; I need only be true to myself.

By the way, what ever happened to the grandparents? Are they still in ageless stasis in the kitchen pantry?

Caterpillar Confessions

Remember the scene in “Ghost” when Molly is grieving Sam’s loss, and Carl is helping her clean out some of his personal belongings? Patrick Swayze’s character as the apparition is looking on as they uncover the Dave Brubeck concert tickets. Carl asks if he should toss the ticket stubs, and Molly says, “No.” She then has a silent moment of nostalgia over Rolaids. Meanwhile, Sam is watching in dismay because they hated that concert and has no clue what she’s remembering about the antacids.

I had a bizarre moment like that tonight. I re-read all 6,188 text messages shared between my ex and me, but I blame my geek-factor for enabling this Molly-Jensen moment. To defend the obsessive-sounding behavior, let me explain that I store everything I have electronic. If there were a “Digital Hoarders” show on the A&E Network, I would be the pilot episode. So, now I’ve deflected one neurotic moment with psychological disorder.

Of course, I discovered several strange things beyond the nostalgia. For example, there is superstitious evidence the Def-Leppard curse was real. I bought the tickets eleven days from our first date, and we broke up eleven days after the concert. Yes, my “beautiful” mind works in strange and statistical ways.

The good thing about this exercise is that I examined the courting-phase, the dance prior to actually coupling. I was able to examine my approach, technique…the “bait” so to speak. Now, let me be very careful how I phrase this. My former fiancé is a wonderful person with many admirable qualities; however, like all of us, those better qualities left certain other aspects of her persona without mastery. Thus, there were key characteristics which were simply less than my minimum requirement.

This is not an insult. All of us fit this same model of being a double-edged sword. A quiet, calm, level-headed person rarely becomes passionate enough for some partners. Perhaps a hyper-compassionate person is not a good match if his or her partner’s threshold for stray cats is low. Strange examples, I know – but it illustrates that some personalities just don’t work well together. Further, sometimes it takes a while to figure that out.

But I’m examining whether I am attracting women who will not fit my needs by the way I sell myself. While my ex-wife and most recent girlfriend are very different people, they do share some similarities in the areas that fell below my threshold. And if I keep finding partners with these personality traits, then I’m doomed to a cyclic pattern. Either that – or I have to accept that this is a price for the trade-off with the other characteristics to which I’m drawn, and therefore I have to change my standard. However, changing one’s standard is pretty hard to do when it’s not a preference.

What I have concluded is that I don’t recognize this “imperfection” in the women I chase until there is a critical incident, when my need is screaming. Suddenly, I have an expectation these women have never known from me, and almost unfair to them I hope they can deliver. But the truth is – they didn’t stand a chance; they were never equipped for the job. And these women from my past cannot be blamed for that. They are who they are – and it’s unfair to become angry at water because it’s wet.

However, I am very nostalgic and also quite sentimental, although those traits of mine are not often broadcast publicly. Because I have such a passion for closeness and familiarity, I cherish the memories I relived tonight. I don’t think most who know me platonically realize the level of intimacy I crave and feel when coupled with a serious partner. This attribute of mine makes me vulnerable to these memories. Without the proper safe-guards, I am drawn back to a ruined relationship like a moth to the flame.

So – in closing this post, I publicly confess my secret plan. In addition to my counseling therapy, I am going to create a secret group of good friends to keep me accountable. All the love and adoration I had for my ex-fiancé didn’t go away when we broke up. When I remember our moments over cheesecake or pancakes, I yearn for those moments again. However, to act on that desire is unsafe for me and unfair for her; thus, I can’t. But I may not be strong enough on my own; so I’m enlisting my friends, who I have called one of my most valued treasures more than once this week.

Finally, I realize this post is highly personal and mostly written for no one else’ benefit but my own. However, it is only through this level of transparency that I can achieve the honesty I need to do the right thing. My wounds need the open air to heal. Despite the vulnerability, for me to grow I must reveal these thoughts and confess my mistakes. The group I establish will aid me to make my thoughts become habits and eventually character and to modify those mistakes into my new mission.

Pressure-Cooker Recipes

There have been a few people I’ve known who base their morality on happiness and convenience. We’ve all seen the long lines at the checkout and commented, “That’s just wrong!” However, we all likely know one or two rare birds who really find this unjust in their minds and believe something should be done to correct it or compensate them because of it. For them it’s not just venting in jape.

Sometimes I even use these few personal examples I know to treat myself to some Jerry Springer therapy. That’s when we look at someone worse off and feel better about ourselves. The irony of the treatment is it allows us to laugh at the person trying to clear the 20-foot chasm because they only jumped five feet before plummeting – all the while, we too fell, only having made it six.

But I’ve recently reminded myself that dark humor and irony is funny – even when it’s about me…perhaps even more so when it’s about me. So this morning’s confession is that I’ve been on both sides of the coin recently. I’ve looked down upon another because I’ve measured my failure less destructive than someone else’ failure…only to discover I’m Charlie Sheen yelling “Winning” in hopes that everyone will believe me.

On the flip side, I’ve found myself angry over petty items from the break-up. At times I have twisted my thinking so these trifling issues somehow become about right-and-wrong or damaged character. But the truth is these things are just the MacGuffin in this script, although in my case it’s not an item to possess rather a point to justify.

The thing about MacGuffins is the whole story gets wrapped around it but yet the fixation itself becomes otherwise completely inconsequential to the plot. And that’s what I’m discovering about my silly mania. When I calm myself, truly consider what it is, I’m just mad because of nuisance – but there is no right or wrong, no morality, no universal flaw about these replayed events in my head.

What would be a universal flaw is allow myself to continue in this thinking. Time will make a difference of course, but time only simmers an attitude. If I persist with my personal justification of blame, then time will allow this bile to fester within me. It is important that I fill myself with serenity over these events. Then the slow-cooking of time allows me to blossom and grow from experience.

Taxes in the State of Crazy

Because of what I said in my Fair Warning post, I’m reluctant to share any details about why things didn’t work out for me and my almost-future-spouse. However, when confirming personality traits that one knows will be seriously problematic, the stories which script the evidence can be wonderful material for an HBO stand-up comedy special. And I suppose I’ve always been a fan of dark humor.

However, it is probably inappropriate to expose those details through this portal into my private life. And I truly have no reason to cast a dark shadow on my former partner. There’s a quote which fits my point, but I cannot recall who said it. Allow me to paraphrase: Never speak evil of another without knowing whether it is true, and even if you know that it is true, ask yourself why you are speaking it.

As wonderful of a person that she really is, like all of us, she had her flaws. Those flaws fell in areas which were simply not manageable, tolerable, satisfactory (whatever the word) for what I needed in a wife. And as I stated earlier, the anecdotes that revealed the truth became amazing bar tales, which is where you’ll have to hear them from me after paying the price of a beer for admission. I’m sure stories about my behavior are being sold for a price elsewhere as well.

But they are funny. And they’re sad too. That’s the secret of dark humor. As I recounted some of the recent events and explained that I was deeply sad over how things had gone, a co-worker noted, “You are the happiest sad person I know.”

The truth is I am happy. I avoided making a huge mistake which likely would have drained me in ways which would have been devastating. But I am also immensely sad. I invested a startling amount of hope and emotion for something that will never come to fruition.

Another important truth though is that I harbor no ill will. I’ve stated it several times how important I believe it is to forgive and truly let go. Forgiveness is not condoning the harm, but more dismissing oneself as judge and jury. Perhaps even denying oneself the spectator seat as well. I know so often we won’t take the vindictive action ourselves, but we wait and watch, hoping for karma to pay vengeance on our behalf. This is not healthy either, and probably not what lives in the heart of the true forgiver.

However, along with “not condoning the harm” goes “still having to suffer the consequences.” Those may be from the other person, from me or from the combination of just being together. But they don’t just disappear when the other person goes away. And this is where the dark humor has its value – because the coins are already spilled.

The coins are a parable of personal experience I tell my daughters. When I was 20ish, I owned a 67 Mustang, 3-on-the-floor, V8-302 engine with a 9-inch posi in the rear. It had some serious power and could run the quarter somewhere around 13 seconds. One day I gathered all my loose change to cash in at the bank, placed all those coins in this large beer stein and balanced it on the floorboard of the car. I drove so carefully from the house, as to not spill those coins. However, at the first intersection to get on the highway, I turned the corner too fast and the coins scattered everywhere.

I laughed hysterically. See – it was funny; irony is a great source of humor. The consequence remained regardless of my response. Whether I laughed or I cried, I was still going to have to pick up those coins. It was just easier to take on that task while recognizing the comedy of it. It was about my attitude not the task – as so much of life truly is.

As I got older, I forgot about the coins and became distressed and depressed over a great many things. However, I’ve had many reminders lately, my recent break-up being one of them. My response could be anger, writhing in the injustice. My response could be depression, pitying myself for how things never work out for me. My response could even be spite, hoping and praying that she experiences the same pain and disappointment. But those are all taxes in the State of Crazy.

No, my response will be to laugh, remember the greatness, beauty and wonder of what we two shared. I will smile and be grateful for the opportunity of so many happy moments. I will bask in my reminiscence of the sensual intimacy we once shared. But I won’t pay those taxes.

And just for the record, I am the resident in the State of Crazy.

Tri-Bonds: Concerts, Comics and Karma

I know; I guessed things that start with the letter ‘K’ at first as well. However, surprise; that’s not the answer. There is a common bond between these things, nonetheless, but to find out we have to take a hot-tub time-machine ride back to the 80’s.

Marvel Comics produced a super-hero role-playing game around 1985. This would be around the time of Bruce Springsteen, Madonna…way before Nirvana; there was U2 and Blondie and music still on mTV. So, the setting is understood – good.

For those not familiar with role-playing games (outside your own kinky thoughts), they are a story-based form of entertainment where players act out or write their own actions as the script is generally plotted by a game-master or arbiter. It is much like impromptu acting, playing pretend with rules or being in “Who’s Line Is It Anyway” where the points actually matter.

Marvel’s theme in the game was to play out comic book hero stories similar to those sold on the comic book rack at the grocery store. In addition to the marketing ploy to capitalize on the popularity of Dungeons & Dragons at the time, it did have its aspect of imaginative fun. However, one of the rules in the game was called a “karma pool.” Each character would gain points of karma for heroic acts; these points could be spent to receive a bonus to the dice roll (increase the chance of success) if ever the mutant hero character needed to perform a feat of unimaginable proportion…as often done in comic book tales.

However, the “karma pool” was an advanced rule, used only by serious and organized gamers. To apply it, one had to be a member of a superhero team and be in the good graces of all team members. If everyone consented in advance of the die roll and a single member needed a positive boost to accomplish the uncanny act, then he could pool the points from all the other members of his team into a “karma pool” to be used as a one-time bonus for his action. Okay, let’s stop here before I start designing and explaining a character sheet.

Another event from 1985 was the car accident involving Rick Allen, drummer of Def Leppard, who lost his arm in the street-race-turned-bad. Technically the accident happened on New Year’s Eve, but none of us heard about it until 1985. Even so, the lead singer of the group, Joe Elliott, authorized the use of a “karma pool” to allow Rick to retrain himself to play the drums with only one-arm, using his left foot and a specialized drum kit to compensate for the missing one. And the “die roll” was a successful with his post-accident drumming debut at the Monsters of Rock festival in 1986 and the release of the Hysteria album the following year. (This is a rather amazing and inspirational story and truly an heroic feat of unimaginable proportion.)

Now, let’s fast-forward to 2009, when I attended the Def Leppard concert in Tulsa. It was not my first rock concert, but it was my first one dressed-up as an 80s rocker. It was unbelievably fun...and yes, more pictures are on my Facebook for those who must see. Anyway, what I didn’t realize is that by doing this, I became a member of the “karma pool” from which my points had been taken.

Of course, I don’t really believe this, but sometimes happenstance takes on funny patterns. Mine manifested around the 2011 Def Leppard concert, which my former fiancé and I jokingly referred to as the “Def Leppard curse.” I purchased the tickets in bulk for the same group I went with in 2009 and fronted the roughly one-grand personally with the promise to be reimbursed later.

Although we had only started dating for a few weeks, my girlfriend and I decided to go to the concert together. However, a few weeks after, the “leader” of the costumed-cavalcade told me she would be leaving the country for a business opportunity, which pretty much made the proud owner of several unclaimed concern tickets. Almost immediately after that, my girlfriend decided to stop going out with me, meaning I gained one more unclaimed prize.

Most everyone knows that I bought a new house about a month later. The tickets became lost in the shuffle, and I even convinced myself that I had inadvertently thrown them out while separately trash from important documents. Of course, within a week or two after this, the girlfriend and I started dating again in secret. Magically, I found the tickets and was able to sell the extras on eBay.

By July, we announce our engagement to be married, but more Def-Leppard tragedy occurred when Joe Elliot’s father unexpectedly passed away and the concert was delayed for two months. This nearly cost me my hotel reservation, but I was able to salvage that; however, it was a very stressful transaction.

A few weeks later, during a couple of days of confusion, where we had a disagreement about the direction of our future together, my then-fiancé and I both joked how we might never make it to see Def Leppard together and farcically blamed them our troubles. We did work it through and re-engaged our path towards marriage. This disagreement was not really a break-up, but we often referred to it as a “speed bump.”

So, with this whole dissertation behind me, I come to the point. When she and I finally did go to the concert and spend the night in Tulsa, it was on this day that noticed the handwriting on the wall which foretold the doom of our relationship. Without revealing details, let me say her behavior, her indifference, her stoic obligation signaled the obvious to me; ironically it was during the Def Leppard trip.

I’m glad I pressed the point and we could determine that she wasn’t really ready for the commitment. Had I not, we might have continued lying to ourselves and each other – and where would we be then?

Yes, I jovially blame Def Leppard for my break-up and claim they stole my good karma. However, the truth is the concert was a very important revelation. So, it was not a curse, but rather a painful blessing.

Fair Warning

My engagement to be married is now over - complete with closure and all possessions returned to the proper parties.

I state this clearly because my former fiance would often be upset when I would broadcast my feelings in my blog, specifically if they could be reverse-engineered back to her by anyone who knew us personally. Despite that I take great care not to reveal names or give specific details whenever it would be inappropriate, she still despised that someone might misconstrue something I said and blame her for my condition.

I'd like to believe and still hold fast that this is a silly notion of hers. After all, anyone who knew us that well would probably already know the details more intimately than described in my writings. However, even stating this is pushing the boundaries of what I think is proper etiquette, but it's a necessary evil to make my point. This blog is where I vent and share my experiences and try to garner a grander perspective to find the life-lesson by my exposure. I hope that my memoirs will provide enlightenment to others but also to my future self.

While I promise to always tell my tale with respect to others' privacy, I will not deny my right to share who I am with whomever chooses to read my words. Yes, I will be polite and further acknowledge that my view is only one of many ways to understand whatever events I describe. However, whenever a significant turn of my life happens, the most effective form of self-improvement I have is to take inventory, retell the tale, meditate, share, consider my missteps and reflect upon the larger point in the universal scheme of things. It is what I do...with the proper decorum, of course. Understand this is not a cheap shot to bad mouth someone but rather my method of self-analysis.

So, for any who hold unwavering loyalty to my former partner, you may wish to drop my blog or unsubscribe the RSS feed for the next few weeks, as it is highly likely a few future posts will contain respectfully-told stories about my emotional state and response to the break-up and the events surrounding it. Don't consider yourself an outcast or voted off the island. But I ask you recognize in yourself the level of restraint and dignity you possess as you read and comment - because this event cannot be summarized as something less than significant and I will have reactions to post. Hopefully, I will learn some lessons along the way as well. I might even explain the Def Leppard reference in my comment on the previous post while simultaneously connecting a Hindu principle with comic books.

Recursion

So today marks the passing of Hour-72 since my break-up. And I'm not even sure I'm allowed to call it that since we never defined or labeled our relationship - at least beyond “Fashion Coach.” But there was an affinity, whether it was designated or not; so there is a coping process I have to navigate.

However, this is not a tear-in-my-beer piteous post about my wounded berries. Nor will it be an explanation of what happened or a venting of any sort. That would be tacky, and I've been uncivil enough to date.

But enough with the disclaimer and on to my point...I was discussing this with a friend when I mentioned I wasn't really that upset but it was curious how quickly habits form. What I meant was in only a month's time, certain patterns had already occurred. Now that I won't call or visit, there is a void where those behaviors happened.

This is where my epiphany occurred. And it's nothing new; people have acknowledged it for centuries, but somehow the idiosyncrasy of this change revealed the ancient wisdom to me. I was far less bothered by the “break-up” and more so for having to fill that above-mentioned void.

Further, the not knowing what to do and standing on unfamiliar ground created apprehension. Humans fear the unknown and the uncertain. Taking it even one more step, we don't like to have fear as an emotional state for long. We are biologically designed for a fight-or-flight response. Thus, often this apprehension turns to anger - and it did in my case as well.

Counselors will tell us that battered women will stay in abusive relationships because the fear of leaving the familiarity is worse for them than the physical and psychological abuse they endure. Often when they do leave, there is a scornful wrath associated with the exodus - perhaps a vindictive justice for the wrongs done to them, but also much anger comes from this fear of going into the unknown.

My mind then drifted to the animated scene in The Wall where Pink Floyd sings the lyrics, “What shall we use to fill the empty spaces where we used to talk?” And while this scene also refers to a break-up, it really is about coping with change. The change could be as painful as a death or as a simple as a change in the economy; it all promotes anxiety, fear and potentially anger. I wonder how often we blame our anger on occurrences when it is more likely our own poor coping method to something changing.

The ironic part of this free-associated writing is I called this an epiphany earlier, but it was only a week ago I explained this very concept to my daughter, just using different words. I told Rachel that stress is caused not by events but rather the unexpectedness of the events. Expected difficulties make us far less angry than when we don't get what we anticipate.

So in closing, I claim only that I have rediscovered the same truth spoken by the Father of Taoism a long time ago. Lao Tzu said, “Act without expectation.” How much happier I would be if I would follow that advice.

Licensing Religion

The other day I had a discussion with a fellow who proposed an interesting idea. Now, I don’t think it would ever be accepted, and I am certainly not going to try to push any new public policy. Moreover, it suffers from the “genie is out of the bottle” problem, but nonetheless, I thought it was interesting enough to share.

He said that no government, not Federal nor State, should issue marriage licenses or make laws that address or recognize marital status. His argument is that marriage is a religious ceremony and the State governing it is as ludicrous as administering secular baptisms.

Wow – this is a pretty radical thought. Well, let’s slow down. Is it really that crazy?

After 3000 years of marital tradition, the first real secular ruling about marriage came from a King in England who defied the authority of the Pope. He justified his decision on fairly selfish reasoning, not because he wanted to improve the institution of marriage. That established, despite some pretty upsetting changes in Church organization, it didn’t really impact the practice of marriages being sanctioned religious covenants. However, it did set a precedent, but one that would not be acted upon for nearly another 350 years.

There were virtually no legal statutes addressing marriage in Europe and early America. There were no tax breaks, no secular registers, no blood tests. Marriage was a religious function, something to be kept separate from the State …until the Civil War. After the Fourteenth Amendment, the secular, governmental, legal processing of marriage came to be in full force. Why? Mainly to prevent blacks from marrying whites now that the former slaves were legal citizens.

Governmental authority over marriage continued into a fight between State and Federal control. A hundred years later, Civil Rights and the supremacy clause would overtake these Jim Crow laws. However, all this did was to give more control over marriage to the State and basically strip away the church tradition, making it meaningless and unnecessary. Marriage is now a legal status and function – and no longer a religious one.

My friend’s argument stated the removal of the Jim Crow laws about marriage was correct but methodically flawed. Rather than over-ruling them with more secular law, they should have been struck down under separation of Church and State. The justification for their removal should not have been based on Civil Rights, but rather marriage was a religious area where government has virtually no authority.

He further explained that this approach of letting religious groups control and sanction marriage would solve most of the social issues surrounding it today. If gays wanted to marry and found a religious group to sanction it, then so be it. If atheists wanted to “live in sin” without marrying, then fine; they don’t believe in sin anyway. The church leaders would be accountable to God, their tenants or whatever, but not to the State.

This is quite different than how we currently think. I further admit that this would radically change how divorce, child support, alimony and inheritance would be handled; however, without knowing what solutions would manifest for these issues in a governmentless marriage scenario, I can’t say whether that would be better or worse. I would imagine they would be more private and personally-tailored, though.

So as I close down this post, I want to remind everyone this is merely a hypothetical proposal of how it should be, not a political push to change the system. I don’t believe this model will happen, but it is an interesting and unusual way of looking at our modern issues of marriage. While I doubt it could solve every social problem revolving around marriage, I must consider that this seemingly radical idea is not only reasonable but it also preserves the original meaning and tradition of marriage.

Karaoke Lessons

The other day I sang a duet with someone. It was Picture by Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock. Of course, we did a fabulous job; thank you for asking.

However, as I sang the line, “I wish I had a good girl to miss me,” I was reminded of a past conversation. An acquaintance of mine once tried to convince me that if he could just find a good woman, then he’d have a reason to change his ways and straighten his life around.

I remember thinking about his argument and even debating with him that he should do these things for himself, not rely on the existence of another person to make them manifest. I held the position that if he wouldn’t do this for himself, then his effort would be good at first but eventually, after the novelty and chivalry had worn off, he would revert back to who he wanted to be for himself – and if that wasn’t “the straightened out person” then he would go back to his old bad habits.

I thought about myself after singing the song – clearly with the memory of the above-stated conversation fresh on my mind. How often do I hope for another person or a particular event to occur to excuse fixing things I know I should? And while using an excuse to start isn’t necessarily bad, the action and desire must be for me to improve who I am – not to provide an appearance nor to be for a temporary duration.

As most nutritionist tell us: It is not a diet but rather a life-style change. If we diet, then we shed the unwanted weight for a while, but it comes back. If we change how we eat routinely, then the weight is more likely to stay off.

So it must be the same in our personal lives, work habits, moral practice and emotional decisions; otherwise, the weight and burdens return. We must satisfy that one person we are guaranteed to live with for our entire lives: our own self. Any other reason is denial.

Ironically, the next song for me to sing was I Can't Get No Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones.

A Tear In My Beer

Perhaps a bit intoxified, but these words must be written now before I forget the impression that was made upon me tonight.

Yes, I went to a bar on a Tuesday night. Yes, I had a few beers. I met a small group of interesting people and had a very fine time. However, two heart-breaking stories sat before me tonight and for very different reasons.

One woman was there drinking her sorrows because she had suspected her fiancé of over a year to be cheating on her. Tonight she confirmed that. She was a mature and beautiful woman, who had much going for her. It was unbelievable that any man could not find this amazing graceful splendor enough to satisfy him. She dealt with the situation with unbelievable grace despite masking the serious pain she felt deep within her soul.

The other story was an angst-ridden young woman who thought her world was horrid. She too was quite striking in appearance, and on the surface she was to be desired by many in the establishment. However, within just seconds of conversation, the scene from Shallow Hal where the nurse comes to berate the helpers came to mind. She was so angry and ugly, and with little cause. Obviously there was much hidden to her story, but what she revealed for the purpose of gaining sympathy did not merit any excuses for her retched behavior.

At one point, I violated the trust of the first woman – because everyone who had been paying attention knew. I told the younger that the woman next to her was suffering worse than she. What I witnessed next was both pathetic and appalling. The younger started to lecture the graceful woman about how “he” wasn’t worth it, blah, blah, blah – but instantly, it turned to her own examples and her own pain – and without any compassion, the consoling became a personal pity party for the younger woman. It was both sickening and difficult to watch.

I watched the mature woman handle the conversation with dignity and never retaliated. I saw the annoyance and sorrow paint itself across her face. The younger woman’s help was causing much damage, and youth didn’t even know it.

Then, an epiphany struck me. I questioned – how often am I that younger woman, pretending to console another person when really I am just expressing my own pain. I act like I can draw on some great well of wisdom from my personal experiences, while in reality I am simply turning the conference into what matters to me!

I hope to never forget this. I hope to remember it when I am called to be the listening ear to someone in pain. I hope to recall that I am there to listen – not preach, teach or leech.