Of Recent Things

Of recent things Scott;

 

I live in my own home.

I started over with my heart.

Found the greatest friendship I’d had to this point in my life.

Found a roommate to make life easy.

Lost a roommate making life more difficult.

Lost the friend, possibly for good, for reasons I don’t understand.

Felt my heart tell me to stop for good.

Resumed life alone in my own home.

 

I wish I had the time and space to brag more; but lets be honest: most people read this blog to see how messed up my life gets.   In short order, of the past few months, the above list, in order, pretty much is it.  Its sad.  At some point I hooked up with someone I had known for years.  We bonded.  We shared alot.  And… we were pretty damn good together.  She knew it, and so did I.  And somehow it went to crap.  She moved in with me.  She moved out.  She’s gone.  All the while, its not what I wanted.  Am I going to lie and say I didn’t want her?  Absolutely not.  I never had the chance to tell her why I was willing to do this; knowing the odds were good of it getting screwed up.  I shouldn’t really share it here either.  But consider all the posts about my life, my heart, and where I’d been, and extrapolate.  I wanted one hope.  I wanted one image.  One person through all of it.  And by the time I’d cleaned out most of my life, she and I showed up together doing the same things at the same time.  I will love that about her.  Despite the decisions she’s made. Of course I disagree with them.  But she doesn’t know which ones.  In the end, it doesn’t matter.  She wasn’t willing to move forward and wasn’t ready in her heart to see it.  I did, and I do.  I love her for that.  I can’t hate her.  I can’t be angry.  I am upset.  But thats natual.  In the end, its me.  I don’t let her take the blame for anything else, except for the things she does.  I feel guilty.  I’m upset.  I’m the one that lost in all of this.   

 

Going forward.  Its time I really follow the words of people I trust.  From my friend out on the reservation, I received an email the day J moved out, even when I didn’t know she was moving [yes, she waited till I went to work, then cleaned out the house before I came home, and refused to answer me about it for two days].  He said the wind had turned sharply cold, the sky was suddenly dark and knew it was winter.  The wind, he said, blew that morning from the wrong direction and it carried with it the sand as he saw an eagle fly from my [east] direction.  For some reason, he knew it was about me he says.  He wrote to me to tell me the Great Spirit has blown strong and cold change.  That my path would be covered in dust and debris and uncertainty.  The eagle has flown from me.  But all these things he said might not have meant anything particular.  He told me he felt a great sorrow from the Spirit as he saw the eagle, and knew my heart was to be blown cold by this change.  He told me to be strong, to pray to Mother Earth, and know the Great Spirit of the circle will carry me along; it will shape the land, it will clear the skies again, and the winds will make me cold, so that the sun will warm me one day.  He said three great prayers and returned to the place he met me and burnt sage grass offering to the Great Spirit and to the Earth, and to my spirit to be strong.   I sat on the floor of my empty living room that night and re read what he said.  I was sad.  I was cold.  I was alone. Certainly everything about my journey and path was obscured and changed in one day.  So I wait for the Great Spirit, and I returned the blessing that night.  Thats all I can do these days. 

Wacignuni...

A quick out of context story....

As I sat out on the reservation, on the steps of some random trailer, in the middle of no where, South Dakota, deep in Pine Ridge; I thought about my life.   I thought about the things I was fortunate for.  I look around myself and realize the people I came to see, see me that way.  Fortunate.  Stupid.  Arrogant.  Gifted.  But teachable.  The wind kicked up sending dust and trash swirling about.  I felt more like I was in a trailer park, except that my Jeep was worth more than the trailer I was at.  My crappy income was more than the collective annual of the 4 people I'd come to see.  I felt fortunate.  But I felt like I worked for it.    I watched a trash bag flutter, while the garbage littered everything else around the fence line.   So close to its purpose, yet so far from being fulfilled.  That as probably me blowing around out here.  Trash on a fence line, so close to the bag, yet so far from being in it where I belong.

My friend, as I've come to think of him, was someone I met my first journey out the the "bush" as I call it.  He's a 50ish, average, long haired Sioux, who has lived his whole life on the reservation. His hair is still long and jet black, often braided.   I'll call him Eagle's Feather, to keep his identity vague.  To be clear, outsiders like me are not really welcome.  No one wants to associate with me.  My money is welcome, but I'm not.  But there isn't anything for me to spend it on.  There aren't any casinos on the res, no hotels really, not even a half ass placed to eat other than in Kyle.  Usually at the monuments near Porcupine, they still line up to sell me trinkets for 30 bucks off the highway.  That's about what I'm worth to these people.  

 Its  49 miles, on my odometer, to drive out to his trailer.  Its little more than a gravel road, with a gravel turn around in front.  His old mini van parked out side, with his daughter's Metro parked near it.  They have a small fenced section and a shed, that serves as protection for two old horses.   No one rides them.  They are too old.  There's no saddle or tack anyhow.   The one time I'd seen someone else ride out to their house was late at night, and the teenager used a rope bridal, without a saddle. It was an alarming sight in the dark.  Something I wish I could have photographed in a studio; the only way I could have captured it!! But,  hardly what you think of from the movies.  Eagle's Feather welcomed me, as he always had.  I hate to mention it, but I brought him a bottle of booze.  Its typical.  It a dry reservation.  No one asks much though; obviously I'm just a lost white man out here, who made a wrong turn... look any closer at him and hes a photographer that was looking for a new canyon to shoot.  Eagle's Feather always gives me an embrace somewhere between my elbow and my shoulder, and he always looks into my eyes asking me why I still come.   I laugh and tell him because the price is right!

Eagle's Feather is a low level member in the tribal council, who often led prayer and spiritual gatherings.  I had met him by accident as he was there to perform some funerary rites to an old grand mother that had died.  I, as I do, had wandered out onto the wrong road a few years before to take pictures, and they came upon me.  So that was the story of my first Sioux funeral.  He took interest in me that day because i was open to it all.  Because I didn't question anything and I asked to help and be a part, no just to observe.  I was told that the great spirits of the wind had carried me here to him, and the mother earth wished to keep me tied to the ground until I understood more.  His influence on my psyche was key at that point in time.  I did need some sort of grounding that I lacked.  I was exploring Buddhism.  It works for somethings, many of which were inside of me.  But it never gave me a place in the world at large.  Eagle's Feather saw me for that immediately.  So since then, I always stop by to see him.  Its my way of thanking him and renewing myself several years later.

This time I sat out here, talking on the steps to him, about how disconnected I felt.  He looks plainly past me to the canyon and the hills beyond me, as I begin to talk about the past year.   I felt like I had started to understand things.  That I was beginning to become comfortable with life and who I was. I knew I was alone.  I knew the point of my life was never   I told him that I had met someone that changed my life, mentally, she made things fun and interesting again. She was pretty.  She was fun.   Then she turned on me a few months later and left me to hang there for no reason.  No explanations, just abruptly tossed me aside and left me to feel worthless.  I told him about how much difference it made to feel a part of it all, and to feel connected.  He asked me why I was here, now, knowing the answer.  Because I wasn't connected.  He turns to me, "Wacignuni..." he begins.   Its a term to mean wandering.  He uses that with me, and made me learn it from the dictionary I bought.  He tells me a story about a day when the rabbit goes hunting as he always has and finds a family of bear and is ultimately eaten by the bears. Rabbit is a term for young person, but it makes the stories easier to relate to children. The point of the story was that rabbits wander into things not knowing where they go, most times it doesn't matter, but sometimes great things happen. Grave or awesome, the rabbit will only wander until that day or moment comes.  I can't say much.   I laugh and told him about the day he first met me.   He smiles and laughs too.  He tells me he wishes a bear would have eaten me that day to spare him all this.   

Being out on the reservation is much simpler.  Even though I see how squalid life is, its simpler.  No one has money.  No one, by and large,is really educated beyond 5th or 6th grade levels.  Very few finish school, or end up at the Lakota tribe run college.  Even fewer escape life on the reservation all together.   Yet, here I am.  I leave a new house I own, drive a nice car, away from a job I have, leaving my things behind as well as the people I felt blessed to have.   I come out in the desert to sit on the steps of a mobile home, thinking about my place in the world.   I don't understand it.   I come here to find guidance.  Simple guidance.  There isn't much.   He leads a prayer for me, and burns some sage in a bowl.  He takes my hand and marks it with some of the ash, and makes the traditional medicine wheel.  Eagle's Feather asks me what I really need in this world, and I think about that.   He told me the answer shouldn't require any thought.  The answer is, all that I need is provided for me by the 4 great directions of the earth.  He tells me that if I really am to have a wife, the the great spirit will provide for me. A great spirit would bring her to me.  Just as if I was hungry, so would I find food and water.  If I needed shelter, trees and caves were already provided for me.  He looks at me to remind me, my desires are not to be provided for, and that I know better.   

As a friend, I think Eagle's Feather would rather see me happy and fulfilled; yet I think he still would like to see me out on the res each year to hear about my own growth.  He often talks that I am ignorant of the will of the spirits of the earth.  I am.   I truly am.  But he tells me there is no shame in wanting someone to share my journeys with.  He goes on tell me that he thinks I'd make a fine son to him, that I have many great things to share, and many ways to be thankful to people in my life that many people wouldnt understand.   But he tells me, the only way to see it, is to see if the spirits provide for me; that rain falls so crops would grow, and that the sun shines to warm the earth and to show us to show us the way around it.  He understands how I feel.  He told me to continue to walk, and wander.  

I dont know that it makes much sense.   Thats what I thought about sitting on the steps.   After all that had happened, I was getting ready to leave as Eagle's Feather was inside talking with his daughter.  I watched the trash billow.  I thought back to all the dead cattle I had seen on the drive across the state.  What purpose did they provide?  What purpose do people on the reservation serve that dump garbage out on their own heritage area?  What do I really offer sitting on the steps in the desert to anyone back home?  I looked at the faint ash on my hand, and the circle of the medicine wheel.  As it turns all is balanced, all is humble and sacred.  Everything has a direction and a purpose, all is blessed in its simple existence and all is necessary.  Even that time alone in the desert is necessary.  As hard as it was to leave some of my creature comforts for a week, or hard to leave situations unresolved with people you feel committed to; it was harder to come back to it all after that.   I spent the week camping in a canvas tent, hiking and backpacking in parks.  I tried to forget people, or my feelings.   I had no cell service, and even my short wave radio didn't catch anything.  I was out wandering.  I came back, because all was provided for.  I sat on the steps thinking about that.   That sometimes it doesn't make sense; what was provided for you.  

Drifting all alone just off the shore

If I were to make it a metaphor, I am awash, drifting endlessly in a small boat.

Everything keeps coming back to that. Even in my day dreams, I imagine myself being lost at see. I know its my own mind making sense of what I cant understand. Doesn't make it any more fair to me.

I should admit I did something stupid. I acted out on an urge. Thought, "hey Scott, why aren't you doing what you do right now?" So I did it. For years I'd wanted to get back to doing what I felt like. And when the mood would strike me; I act out in the most honest and endearing ways. I've wanted to be able to express that part of my life again for the past several years. I am a giver. Through and through. So, I turned around and sent a big playful order of flowers to the girl I met the other night. I called my florist, dreamt up a solution, and had the flowers arranged in a big toy pick up truck. Then it spent a few days without any answer. I kind of knew, deep down, if there wasn't an immediate good reaction, then lukewarm to bad was my best case scenario. So on the third day I get a nice, polite response. She was very surprised, enjoyed it, and was planning on moving away. Buzzkill.

I sit and realize though, that it isn't necessarily about this. The buzzkill is me carving off that piece of my pysche. Why do that shit? Everyone else would compliment me... telling me how bold it was... or how crazy it was that I could do that. It really never crossed my mind. Honestly, I've been looking for an outlet for that for a while. Get back to being me in some way. I held on to one girl for so many years, because I hated the idea of never having anyone to do that with... so I'd send her flowers, or do stupid shit. Here I am a few years later, realizing how frustrated I am, because there isnt anything I can do. So I try it again. Nothing. Like hooking up a jumper cable to a wrecked car.... it just doesnt go anywhere.

I have a hard time with that when i'm tired and should be sleeping. Im back on the shitty 15 hour day rotations, fresh off of 4 hours of sleep... and here my mind wanders about this kind of crap now. It probably isn't fair.

I sit and feel a slight twinge of guilt, thinking back about it. This is the kind of shit I've wanted to do for years. And, I should have been doing it. There was someone I should have done this sort of thing with, and I didn't do it because I felt like she and I werent ready for it. I should have done it. Here i am tossing away 100 bucks of dead flowers to a girl I'd known for 15 minutes; but I didn't send them to someone I'd known for years and cared about for too long to tell her. In a way I was right not to. She'd have been upset. I hate that feeling too. Knowing that whatever decisions I keep making, I can't ever seem to justify later on. But it never was that I didn't want to send them to the other girl. I did. I cancelled two orders at the last minute at different times. She doesn't know that. There are so many things I've wanted to do; but couldn't. I had to get to a place where I could do that again.

I say that, because I've been a giving person most of my life. I've been a very giving lover all of my life. The very first, fake, girlfriend I ever had... way back in kindergarten... started it. During the big Fun Night, I had a heart necklace engraved for her... I think it cost me 4 or 5 tickets... a lot of paper money for a kindergarten kid! Poor Debbie B! She never knew what hit her! That started 20 some years of madness I guess. But as a 30 something adult, I know the true value in what i do, when I give things. I give a piece of myself. it isn't just a toy, or flowers, or jewelry; it is a piece of me I give to them, to share. And as corny as that sounds, its hard to imagine some strange girl understanding me doing that. No wonder she didn't know what to say for 3 days. So why didn't I give to the girl that WAS deserving of it? I dunno. I wasn't ready to do that again. I wasn't ready to give up whatever was left of myself after what had happened, and what I had done to myself over the years.

In short, I have terrible luck with women. I alone, could give a new house and a car to a homeless woman, and still not get a date. I have always had that knack for being too much. People don't understand me. People don't want to. They always want whats simple, whats pretty, whats slightly less than accessible to them. I always stand there, waiting. I'm not pretty. In fact, I'm down right ugly. I'm extremely complex. And I'm always available. None of that seems good to anyone nowadays. But they always overlook, or wait too long to realize what i am good for. I care too much. I am loyal. I am a healer. I share. I give so much in experiences that its not a simple thing to approach. It scares people. It scares people because i don't go for the easy things either. I look inside people. I really try to put my effort into people that deserve it and me. When that rejection comes, its very difficult to take. Other peers thing its tough getting shut down by the blonde russian model at the bar... I laugh at her and dump the drink on her! Its the ones I stay up late with talking about things, sharing life with that I get attached to, that I really want to be with, that kill me in the end. Those are the ones that deserve the most from me, that is the hardest to give up on my end. If it were simple, it would be easier. Like flowers. Like those I'd send wrapped in a kids toy. Its a way to play with my heart and hers. Its all a metaphor I suppose.

No Fate

I spent part of my morning watching Terminator 2 on netflix, on my new tv. I'm too lazy to hook up the blu ray player, and I only own it on DVD any how... besides.... its a wifi enabled tv.... its kinda cool to have netflix built right into the fucker. Anyway. I realize parts of the this one havent aged all that well, but some of it is great to this day. I remember how attached I was to it as a kid when it came out. John Costello and I went to see it in the theater. I remember we felt so lucky to get in as "under agers" but it was worth it. Explosions, terminators, Arnold. Great memories to have. As an adult I try to find those same root motivations in new things. Each new terminator movie that rolls out, for example, rekindles my spirit in the mystique of killer robots from the future. But the underpinning of the story is always that there is no fate but what we make. Sarah Connor carves this into a table during one scene in T2. " NO FATE" I found myself pausing the movie this morning to think of it.

We get up each day in this world and do what we do. How often do we sit and think, what is it I really want out of this day, in this world? When does that coincide with what we end up doing by the end of our day? Total it up. By the end of all of our days, what have we made? Lots of things for other people; little for ourselves. The idea that the future can change based on our actions today is probably true. Fate, has its place in the grand scheme of order... but not to this extent. I'd like to think that fate, or the things we lie destined to be doomed to; are that outlier... that five-percent we cant ever explain at the end of our lives. I'd like to say that I survived a heart attack because I forced myself to do it... I willed my heart to keep beating. Because i did. Instead, I lose sight of the fate that dropped me on a steel table that night in the first place. How do you end up dying of a heart attack at thirty? That part you cant explain. But you make of it what you will. I lived. Now, I wander around asking why I lived through it.

If there is no fate, then there really isnt any purpose. Fate has to have some pointed stick in this game. Somewhere in our lives, we all feel it jab us and move us along.

Uncontrolled Thoughts

One of the morning crew at work came by to talk to me the other day. He said he had some genuine concerns about one of the younger kids who ended up losing his job this week, basically because he went to pieces over his girl friend breaking up with him. I didnt have the heart to tell Rick what the real story was. Thats not for me to talk about... but the story he told me did make me laugh.

Did you ever hear the one about the snake that tried to cross the railroad tracks?

Well one day this snake thought there might be something better on the other side. So he slithers on up, pokes his head around, and waits. Eventually he gets the courage up to wrangle it over the hot tracks and he picks his way around the rocks and ties. Just as he gets to the other side, a train comes by in a furry, and runs him down, and it chops off the last inch or so of his tail! The snake winces in pain. He flips around, darting back and forth in dismay. After a moment, he turns around, and starts over the track to look around for the tip, hoping he could put himself back together. Before he realizes it, a second train comes by and lops him off right below the jaw. The moral of the story is, you can only lose your head when it comes to chasing a piece of tail.

I smiled when he finished telling it. Quick, to the point, solid punch line... makes a great little metaphor for all of us at times.

//S

A Strange Event Under The Lights

Thursday night was a strange one. Even for me.

About 15 minutes before the store closed, a customer comes back with a rented truck to return... being favorable to the people upfront, I go out to check it in and take care of it, rather than pull them across the store while they are busy settling drawers. As I walk up to the doors, I'm met by an attractive brunette with long hair in a blue shirt. She smiles at me. I ask who had the truck, and she walks over to meet me.

She insists immediately, that she might have left a cell phone charger in our truck. I laugh. "Its ok," I have to go walk and look at it anyhow. She, curiously, comes with me. I start making small talk as we walk across the parking lot. She immediately cuts in, "I didn't even know you guys had trucks to rent, it was so cool!" I laugh. We have lots of moments like this in the new store. She continues, "I needed it to move my bed... like my mattress and everything. I pretty much moved everything I own today all by myself!" We stopped at the truck as she said that. I look at her, realize shes probably my age, and definitely pretty attractive. "High five lady!" I say. She smiles, and protests.... "No... no its not good. I ... I kind of walked out on my fiancé today and just decided I'm through with it and him... so I moved out." I didn't know what to say.

She started explaining some of the situation as I fumbled inside to find her cell phone charger. It was a weird situation for her. Her fiancé wasn't good to her, she felt like she had settled too long. They were living in a house he owned, but couldn't afford, that was sold to him by his mother as part of a divorce settlement with his father. The house was in need of lots of repair, and he had somehow convinced her to move in, pay the mortgage and help pay to fix the place up. Again, I didn't quite know what to say, as I handed the charger to her. She stopped long enough to smile at me. She looked worried. I radioed in the mileage of the truck and that it was damage free. She crossed her arms and stood there, looking at me or past me.

So I started talking. I told her about me. I told her not to feel bad for that guy. At one point that was me in a way. I'd been walked out on, and even if it took me along time to deal with it, I was better for it. She dropped her story and demanded to know more about me. We kept at it walking back to the store. She kept looking up at me in my eyes, asking me why that girl broke up with me, or why she couldn't love me. i gave her the honest answer, I don't know why. I really never will, and it didn't really matter much to me anymore after all these years. I held the door open as she walked in to sign paperwork.

My mind was kind of running in circles. No one had ever come out of nowhere and started talking to me like that... especially someone like her in her position. I thought she was making it up, but I believed her at the same time. I didn't make sense to meet someone like this, at 10 o'clock at night on a Thursday. I watched her as she filled out a form, with a blonde friend of hers at the counter. I felt itchy. I felt compelled to do something. My life has been about doing things different lately. Its been about getting away from my comfort zone, to find whats real and what matters in my life to me. I pulled out my business card, and shakily started writing my phone number on it. I knew how awful of an idea this was. But I found myself doing it.

Almost instinctively she turned around, swished her hair, and makes a bee-line for me again. She puts her hands on the back of her hips, with her elbows pointed out, as she stands in front of me. I kind of blurt it out. "I uh... I... this is not me.... I really don't do this kind of shit... but.... this is my number.... why don't you call me sometime, I'd really like to talk to you some more," and I handed her my card. She kind of rolls her eyes and smiles and takes it, and puts it in her pocket and gives me a nod to follow her back outside. I just follow, blindly after her.

We lean against the bollards outside and keep talking about everything. She tells me that shes lived around here her whole life and know doesn't know what to do, I laugh and tell her the same thing, that except for college, I've been here too. She seems excited that I was an Iowa alum. She smiles, wrinkles up her nose, and says "oh my god, a Hawkeye, how cool!" I didn't want to tell her its practically a diploma mill any more. She says school was tough for her... nursing school. She tells me shes a nurse in Davenport, at East Rusholme. I know thats a hospital. I ask her what unit, but I was never prepared for her answer. She says the cardiac unit. Shes a nurse in the cardio ICU, where I had my heart attack two years ago. I tell her that, without thinking. She immediately seems worried or taken back. That I was too young for that. I worry if I crossed a line with my honesty. She wants more information... we talk. Its amazing. She knows my doctors... she knows how I was treated... she understands so many things about my heart that i don't. Amazing is the only word I could use.

Somehow we change the subject and keep talking about other things. She tells me her ex fiancé would tell her she has too lofty of goals and dreams for herself. I want her to tell me. "Well, I want to go to India..." I cut her off, "I want to go to Everest... on the Tibet side." We just stare at each other. After a moment, I tell her its a spiritual thing, that I wear my beads every day to remind myself of it.... She asks if I'm Catholic, and I take them off my wrist and hand them to her. Once she sees the seated Buddha on the beads, and the sanskrit characters, she smiles at me like shes going to cry. I don't know what else to say to her. I tell her the truth. Goals are so important to me. She nods, and crosses her arms, having moved closer to me, she looks up at me. I feel compelled to share it. I reach in my back pocket and pull out my notecard. "I even write down little goals for myself and carry them around," as i show it to her. After that, she never broke eye contact with me, and stands maybe 8 inches from me.

Before anything else could happen, someone kicks open the door, and stomps outside. I had been watched for a few minutes I suppose. She walks past me, never looking at me, and demands the mileage and information on the truck, while facing the girl, whom I still dont know. I stop and tell my coworker the mileage from memory, that the truck is fine, and dangle the key over her head [shes rather short]. I get a glare at me indirectly, as she forces paper work over to the girl to sign. My coworker then hurriedly snatches it up, stares at me, and huffs rapidly walking into the store, where she locks the door. The brunette gives me a wry smile, "shes... pleasant!," and laughs. I smile and laugh too, trying to make a half assed defense up, to which the brunette looks at me and says, "is there something with you and her.. I can see that" I shake my head no. Of course there is a story there. I feel like I need to lie though.

Her blonde friend then walks out the automatic door suddenly before we could talk. "Ok! Were all done for today!" The brunette turns and says, "hey this is like my new friend here.." To which I'm smiled at and given a thoughtful "thats cool!" remark. No one questions it. So the three of us start walking back out to the parking lot. I remind myself, I still have to drive the truck back in the locked yard, its not to keep hounding her. They make small talk about having moved everything, and how its been a long day. Her friend says, "well its not over, I still have a whole car full of shit to deal with!" Everyone kind of smiles. I realize, we are at their car. I stop. I don't want this to end. It has to.

As they unlock the car, the brunette smiles at me pulling her hair out of her face from the wind. She looks at me, straight in the eyes from the other side of the car and says, "Maybe I'll see you India.." I feel dejected. It is ending. I reply to her, "You know? I'd like that.... call me, we can see if we can get the same flight together." She nods, smiles, and laughs. She looks at me one more time, before she shuts the car door, and they drive away. And I am left standing in the parking lot at the store truck by myself.

------------

I think to myself, in the past few days I fucked it up. I think, at other times, I did the exact right thing. I'll never know. Maybe not.

I never got her name. I never got her number. And somehow, I let her walk out of my life, just as quickly as she walked into it. I felt like I knew her more than I did, and that there was something more to her than just passing in the night. I feel like I should have gotten a text message seconds after the drove away. I kept looking at my phone for an hour. Nothing. Three days later... nothing. I'm sad.

But I remind myself, this poor girl just up and dumped out her life that night. She walked out on a fiancé, a place to live, and someone she [at one time] cared about. And I sit, jealous, that a stranger, whom never told me her name, isn't calling me immediately to get started with me.... all because i felt a connection. Who knows what she feels now. I swore I saw all the signs. Yet, my phone wont ring. I can't make it. I can't call her. I can't see her. I don't even know her name. Thats why i think I fucked it up.

Then I realize she has her own things to deal with, likely none of that is a fat guy, with a heart attack, working at a lumber yard, hitting on her the night she dumps her fiancé. Which, this is really all she knows right now. I can't blame her. I can't blame me either. Shes intelligent, shes got goals, shes a dreamer, she works hard, shes interested in me, and she understands my heart on several levels. I can't blame me for trying that. So thats why I think I did the right thing. I gave her my card. If she wants me; between my iphone and the store line / email, there is no other place I'd ever be reached at in my life. Thats up to her.

For all I know, that card went through the washer... ended up in the trash... or in the bottom of a box. I'll never know for sure. Maybe I will. Just maybe. It sure would make a great story, for a guy that has alot of them. It sure was a memorable way to start off with a girl who I can't name.


S

What do we do with our dreams?

Things of our dreams.  An Image I made some years ago. 

I had two very vivid dreams last night...  That is not out of the ordinary for me... but they were different than usual...   I woke up after the first one about 4 am...   it was about me making one of my goals, the second one was about making something mine.
I was on the mountain, standing there looking at all the flags going up and down the cliffs, in bright reds, whites and blues. Its an unfamiliar, foreboding place.  I was surrounded by strange people, speaking languages I can’t recognize. I could see how dark the edges of the rocks were all around me, and i could see it go on up above me, past the clouds.  I felt like I was nowhere. I was at Everest, at base camp on the Tibet / China side.  I can recognize it from pictures and documentaries, but in all the earth, this is its peak...  this is the hardest thing...  while I felt that I have come farther than I ever expected, I felt that l will never climb that mountain.  I stood at its foot and stared deeply into it.   Nothing I've ever felt in my waking life, felt like that... to stare into the abyss, to look upon it with favor, not disdain.  To be there with strangers and yet all alone before the summit of the highest point of the world.  The wind whipped so hard around me I couldn't hear anything but it and the banners snapping up the hills.  It was so surreal.  Even the smell of it was distinct.  I felt cold.  I felt weak.  I felt like my heart was giving out.  But I was there.  I remember that I walked to the edge of some bluff and looked out over nothing almost as far as I could see, and practically fell down on both knees before it.  Lost in thought, watching the flags and banners... the prayer cloths in the wind... the smoke going sideways from small fires... small little makeshift houses and buildings among the rocks and grass.  It was just open, nothing.  It was beautiful. It was beautiful because there was nothing, but there before me was the most majestic crag on this earth.  There was nothing stopping me from it except myself.   Somewhere a few minutes into being kneeled before it, is when I woke up.
A little miffed about waking up from that, I slowly drifted back to sleep.  I stopped to look at my phone, and noted it was 3:50am.
It became a little less typical of me to have a dream about everyday life.  I've definitely suffered from deja vu throughout my life.  I see small little pictures of things that I’ve come to realize weeks or months later are unfolding right before me.   As I grow older, I am experiencing longer bouts of it, but with less frequency.  As a kid, I saw a silver door knob, at a crooked angle: a month later in gym glass I fell, ramming my head into the wall, and sitting up I looked up to see that door knob. Other times I have seen road signs with sunsets behind them, or people walking and talking around me; all to find it all come true.  This time, it was a normal feeling.
I'm laying lengthwise on a brown leather couch [that I don't own], in a place that I don’t recognize [ie I don't own], but its clearly mine. My art is on the wall facing me. The walls are painted in colors I’d choose. Everything about this place feels comfortable to me. Its warm there. There is some sun light coming from behind me. And I feel that I belong. I hear a voice, softly, but don’t understand the words. I look down to realize I have someone laying in my lap covered in a blanket and she's staring up at me into my eyes.  I look at her and see she's biting her bottom lip.  She looks timid, but happy, and like she just woke up suddenly and was surprised to see me.  About as surprised as I was to see her like that.  The only thing I remember was reaching down, grabbing her with my left hand and squeezing her right where her but meets the back of her leg, as she rolls over. I begin brushing her hair out of her face with my right hand as she keeps looking at me with her big eyes. I keep my hand on the right side of her face, as I feel her rush in to kiss me.  I see her eyes close as our noses and foreheads touch and I kiss her.  It feels like the most romantic thing I have ever done in my life, and I feel her tears with my right hand, even though I know she is completely happy. That's when I wake up.   I don't have romantic dreams.  I just don't.  And so much of what was in this makes me wonder why I had it.  I wonder if that's a dream, or that's something that's going to come true.
Today, as I'm talking to my lawyer, I get an email with pictures of the inside of this condo I'm looking at buying sent from my realtor.  When I saw the layout, I realized where I've seen it.  Change the couch, change the pictures, change the paint... its that place.  After I left the office, I sat at lunch, looking through my email today, finding myself staring at the pictures. I wanted to cry.  Because there is so much in that dream I want to make real.
What do we do with our dreams?
Can you recycle dreams?  Can you save them? How do we even remember them… most times they fade so fast from us as we wake, we never can hold on to them.    When we are taken places we’ve never been and end up there in our dreams, how do remember that later in life if we get there?  How do we ever convince someone else what our dreams are, and how you know things from dreams? How do we transform our dreams into our memories?  That’s the secret to life.  How do you make that real, when you see it, when you feel it, when you know it, and its right there and you can do it… even when you cant, you dreams take you there. 

Conrad said,

"There were moments when one's past came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a moment to spare to yourself; but it came in the shape of an unrestful and noisy dream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silence. And this stillness of life did not in the least resemble a peace. It was the stillness of an implacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention. It looked at you with a vengeful aspect. I got used to it afterwards; I did not see it any more; I had no time. "

/// S

Ripples in the reflecion

its  probably for the best that i get in the habbit of doing more regular efforst at reflection on myself.   i think the danger always is, to look at the ripples in my own self reflection, rather than the image i see at large.  thats the danger for all of us, in the end.

i look back at the past few weeks and think to where i was.  mentally and physically i was fresh.  i was open.  i was beaten to putty.  i think, the in past few, im the lump thats started to spin on the potters wheel.  im not much of anything yet.  i dont have a defined form.  im taller... im smoothed.... but im not anything anyone wants on a shelf quite yet.   

analogies aside, i was lost.  i suppose i could have died, dumping my car in a ditch headfirst like that. i know, mentally, i was close to breaking up.  everything kept building and without any relent, i knew the dam was going to break.   but ever so slowly, some of the water receeded, and i put holes in it where i had to.  mentally, i couldnt deal with my own health issues, my leadership roles, my own expectations, my relationships with others, and my relationship with one special person.  its hard to admit that.   its hard to say, i cant do it all, and i cant do it anymore.   i tell people, that the physical part of my life is the simplest to deal with now.  i know what has to get done.  i know what work i can do, and i can see my bodies response.  in my mind, i cant see that.  in my heart, i dunno if anyone else ever will.  and that makes is so much harder.  

i set off with some goals in a spiral notebook.  ill be damned if i cant do something, when i cant do anything / everything in my ilfe.  i joined the gym.  i sat and faced the doctors.   i accepted the fact that one day i am going to die.  i dont know when, but i want to put that farther down the road than i could ever hope to remember.  that meant doing the un-scott thing.  so now im hitting the gym, up to two hours at a time, now 4 times a week.   am i going to get burnt out? hell yeah.  am i doing everything right in the gym? ofcourse not.  am i making a committment to myself, and making progress? yes i am.  i know in a month now, and only a couple weeks at the gym, ive lost weight.  im eating completely differently too.  its a big difference in my health.  i hate it.  but i have to do it.  because i promised myself, to be around for a while.  

i took a few other goals down this past week.   i bought a tv yesterday.   people that know me, know ive never had a tv.  there was one in the house growing up, but since ive been an adult, since ive had my own bedroom, since ive moved out in to the world; i dont have one.  i thought i should change that.   i drove to chicago, went to my favorite electronics store, and dropped a grand on a tv.   i brought it home and found out its damaged... the screen is broken.  what kind of shit filled message is that?  the kind i expected really.  maybe im not supposed to have a tv.  thats karma.  keeping me in check.  i wanted one.  i wanted to make good on some changes in my life, but maybe its not for me.   so now, i have a very expensive table lamp until i get this resolved.   but i wasnt angry.  i punched my leg in frustration when i powered it on and saw it... but i let the anger pass me over.   i spent 25 minutes opening the box, unpacking parts, removing wrappers, reading the manual... before i even took the tv out.   an hour into it, i had it up and done and ready to go.   and i sat on the floor looking at it in disbelief.  i own a pretty bitchin, 55" tv.  i smiled.  i was happy for myself.  then i turned it on, and saw the giant crack and the jittery colors.   but i let the anger wash over me like the surf.  i didnt fight it, i just went under it, and came back up out of it.  its ok.  its a tv.  whats another few weeks, that 16 years didn't already do to me?  

goals are like that.   i realize some of my goals are incredible.  some are pretty mundane.  some just seem stupid or scathingly out of touch for most people.  but its about me.  its about the changes i needed to make all along.  its about knowing where i was at and seeing where i want to go in the next five years.  maybe a tv was getting greedy by a bit too much.

i spent part of the night seeing friends in chicago land.  real friends.  even they remarked on how different i feel now.  that felt good to hear.  its hard for some people to deal with me and understand it.  people that have known me for decades get it.  everybody knows parts of my story, but no one except me, really knows it all anymore.  i wish i could forget alot of it some nights.  i know, that nights like this are what changes that.  looking at where i am to see where im going.  something are big milestones... like making that strong effort to be at the gym at four am some days. its about making promises and keeping them. there are so many other goals i want to look at and work on.

there are so many things i have left to do in my life, and a short time to do any of it. it has been about my heart though. its the most troublesome thing for me to fix. doctors deal with it. my rinpoche tinkers at it. i dont know know what im even doing with it. But we all agree ill die from it. I will dies from it because i dont listen to my heart. thats a physical health thing. thats a gut check thing about living the right way. That's about about love too. its about me needing to get past so many of the things ive written about over the years, or eluded to at least. i cant be alone anymore in this world. now that i know what im heading to, i need someone more than ever in my life. the next five years are going to be the most challenging and change riddled of my life. that much is clear; i need some stability. i need someone to tell me when im right and when im wrong. and its not too much to ask to have someone to kiss or cry with, is it? It comes down to so many experiences that will happen, I'm selfish to not want someone to share this with. Especially the one person that stepped up and said she loved me. Even if i didn't believe it then, I need to now.

just as much as the tv was a overshoot... maybe thats what im looking at with this too. maybe it was a bridge too far. i always said, i knew id die alone because there probably wasn't ever anyone out there to love me. i love people. I've deeply loved several women. not a one has ever said she loved me. 30 years on this earth and it hadn't happened. I've handed out rings. Ive bought gifts. ive been there to give away some of them to other men. Nothing. Then someone said it. And I was confused and not ready for it. Here I am now asking myself why I wasn't ready then. its a big step to get what i want. that tv was a big step. i could have just picked up a junky 20" tube tv from craigslist for 20 bucks. i wanted something for me. it cracked and fell apart before it was mine. i guess thats a metaphor for something else in my life related to love, right now. maybe it had cracks in it before i could find a way to make it mine, and maybe the cracks were mine showing through.

it makes me sad to think that some of my goals, that I'm so happily crossing off... have to get whited out and put back on the page. i want to see a list of things getting done. i want to see change and progress in my life that tells me all the struggle is making a difference. in the end, its pushing people away from me i wanted to keep. people struggle seeing eye to eye with me. and even i don't understand myself some days anymore. in that respect, i have to go back and put a lot of me back on the page, on a layer of white out. its hard seeing the lines in the ripples of our own self reflection. but its necessary. and its the only way out of all this for me.


S

Something Else I Had To Change

Life is full of change.   Lately, I’ve done nothing but second guess myself at every turn.   Seemingly, I can’t do anything right.   I can’t make my boss understand that, I can’t let myself relax, I can’t seem to tell people how I care about them, and even my doctors are telling me I can’t seem to get it together.  Its so exhausting to seem like a failure at every level, all at the same time.

Today I took a quick step off to the side to fix one problem.  All while I’m listening to Ziggy Stardust bemoaning “five years, its all we’ve got,” I realize I have to make changes.   As much as I want to talk about and fix the other things first… especially my relationship with Someone else, I know this is probably the most important thing I need to do.   The cardiologist was quite unhappy with my “progress.”  It has to change.

I took my most recent stress test in mid December, following a nasty run of shit at work… way too much overtime and stress… during an already stressful holiday time of year, where I’m not eating right, I’m exhausted, and I had a huge personal falling out with Someone very important to me.  No kidding Doc, I look like shit!  I feel like shit.   But I don’t feel like I’m going to have another heart attack.  He isn’t so certain about the future.  We talked about the heredity, my awful genetics, my age, my previous condition, my arrhythmia, my stress, my exhaustion, and my diet.   There wasn’t a lot of positives in that conversation for me to hear.

In a way, I needed to hear it all of it.  I heard it all before.  But I was never really ready to listen to it.  Here I am, absorbing it like a sponge today.   So much changed in so little time, within myself, I needed to hear it again.  On one hand, I needed to hear how lucky I’ve been so far.  But I needed to hear what I need to put work into going forward.  My body isn’t going to keep up with what I do to it for the next thirty-years, If its like the last thirty.  That’s the message.  That’s the inside, high and tight pitch at my helmet. 

So, we talked about who to see, and what to do.  So today, I walked in, prepaid a year of gym membership, and called in a consult with a recommended trainer from my cardiologist.  Larry and I sat down and talked briefly, while he got some of my medical charts faxed in.  He thinks its doable.   He said, that once he heard me talk about what I need in my life, he said he’s convinced I could do about anything.  That’s excellent news.  That’s something that takes a few wrinkles out of your soul, after feeling like its been crumpled up and stomped on the last few months.

Larry wants to get me in and run me through a bunch of shit to see what I’m really like.  He told me the medical stress test results aren’t what he reads for progress or improvement.  I got to start somewhere.  He agrees it shouldn’t take much refresher for me.  Having worked out extensively for baseball, rehabbing leg injuries, and the whole ROTC time frame, he thinks its going to come back to me pretty quick.   He told me that the long term motivation is what most people lose. I told him my three motivating things for my life right now.  He didn’t know what to say!

I have to look at making myself stronger and better from the inside out.  I told him that I have to understand me and live with me the rest of my life.  The longer I live, the better I will get at that.

I told him I’m scared of dying thinking I left too much behind that I could have accomplished.  I worry that I’m wasting time in my life, instead of valuing it.  The things I want I need to start working for, to see all the effort will tell me I worked hard enough to earn  what I get in the end.

Lastly, I told him I’m motivated by one other person.  She means enough to me that I have to make some changes in my life.  Even if its hard, or it scares us, we need to realize that we really effect and mean that much to each other.  Its important for me to let that happen, and be there for that change for both of us.

Larry thinks I’ve got solid motivation.  Now he wants to see my sweat.  

So I joined the gym.  I prepaid the year and for Larry.  But it’s a commitment to all of those things and myself.   Its time that something else had to change for me.

 

S

Down In A Hole

I just had the most religious experience of my life, in a ditch for the last hour and a half….

And I mean that.

 

Many of you know that I’m in a bit of a crisis of my life lately.   I’ve probably talked too much at length about it.  But its a lot of things coming to me at once.  Today, I just thought I’d roll past a farm house for sale on the way home.   Its Iowa, its winter, it isn’t out of the ordinary.  So I didn’t think much of snow and blowing conditions.

As I went down a back sand/gravel road, the wind swept up; it game me an instant white out of everything, and I was tobogganing down into a ditch cut about 3 feet below the road surface.  It was that quick.   Somehow, I didn’t roll.   I was upright.  And that was miracle.  Without the snow plowed into the ditch, I should have rolled over my front right corner and flipped it.  But I was fine.   But I had snow packed up to the windshield.  What do I do?   I get angry.   I punched the steering wheel.   I shut the engine off, and tried to open the door.   No good.   There is so much snow drifting and blowing, I cant open it.  I start climbing across the passenger seat to get out and look at it.  

As I’m standing there, knee deep in the drifts, I see several problems.  First.  The road falls off to nothing in about 3 inches.  I will have to climb maybe 20” height straight up with no running start to get on the road.  The fenders didn’t even line up with the level of the road.  That’s a problem.   Second.  There is so much snow, I could see the shape of the undercarriage of the jeep like a long snow fort where I had plowed through it.  As I climbed to the front, I had snow packed into the grill, so far under the differential I was high spotted, and just wet grassy mud under that.   Third.  There isn’t anything out here.  

Of course I start swearing.   I go with anger.   That didn’t move any snow.   So I go to the tailgate and dig out the e tool, and toss the rubber floor matts out the windows, and start digging.   I spent 10 minutes to clean the drivers side front axle out.  I noticed there is so much snow and grass packed together, that’s what kept my wheels straight going down in the ditch.   Another 10 minutes to clean the passenger side and I realize Ill have a lot more digging to do to clear it if I intend on driving forward…. Ill end up trying to plow 3 feet of packed drift who knows how far.  I keep digging to the back and decide to try it.

At first when I get it, I cant start the jeep.   I panic a bit.  I realize I left it in gear.  I start it back up, and start to work.   After 10 minutes, I was able to get the Grey Ghost to gain some traction and move about 15 feet forward, and angle to the road when I stopped.   I got out to realize I’m plowing snow, and I’m shredding mud and grass everywhere.   I take a few minutes to air down the tires… I let the pressure drop 20 pounds of pressure out of each wheel.   I know my odds are going up of breaking a bead and losing a tire at that point if I catch something hard.  But I’m getting desperate.   I’d driven Big Red out of worse.   I should be able to get out.  

So I go back to work digging.   I stopped to call my Mom, and let her know where I am at.  Then I called the first 5 tow truck places on Google.   No ones coming for me.  I look around, after I put my phone down, and realize how lost I am.   I’m stuck.   I have my ruck, I’ve got food and water.   I’ve got my sleeping bag that I never took out from Chicago in January, and I even have my pistol.  Its amazing to think how prepared I actually was to be there.   Yet, I still wouldn’t get calm to do the right things.    If the jeep blew up.  I would have been in better shape, than just driving it back on to the road.

I jumped out in the ditch and blowing snow and dug some more.  I kept going until my legs were too cold to take it.  I started it up, and rocked away.   She wasn’t going anywhere this time.  I kept sliding laterally, and I couldn’t get going forward or backwards at all… I knew I was right against the edge of the roadway that sat about even with the hood.  I got out to look around… without any trees or brush, I couldn’t make a ladder for it either. I burnt a hole in a floor mat, when I walked around again to look at options.   This time I was stuck.   Its too deep.  Its too much to get it up without any recovery point, and I’m only 2 feet from the road. 

That’s when the metaphor hit me.  Right there in the blowing snow.  I am so fucking close to being on the road.  I’m so close to staying on it, that I can get blown off without me keeping to the path.  Everything in my life is that way right now.  Its me.  Its work.  Its living.  Its dealing with death.  Its telling someone I love her, for the first time in years.  But that’s where I’m at.  Just at the edge of the road, and its so hard to climb up and out.

I sat down and shut the door.   In an hour and change, no one had some by.  No cars.  Back behind me is a barn about 500 yards out.   I started thinking about packing out and hiking it.  I was frustrated.  Just like my life, I’m looking for answers or hints.  I stopped and reached up to my dash and took my beads and thought it through for a minute. 

My beads are not rosary.  They are not Muslim cleric.  They aren’t even my Lakota prayer set.   They were sent to me by my Rinpoche.  Lately, I carry them with me a lot.  They sit right on top of my dash as I drive.  But as soon as I took them, and I thought about it.  I calmed down.  I was open to it.  I let go of my anger.   Then I saw headlights in the mirror. 

I want to say that car was coming anyhow.  I want to say, I had hours to work and find a way out.   Or I could have just given up and walked.  I was prepared for it all.   But I am not prepared to sit and wonder.  All the things I’ve done wrong, happen then.  When I dropped my anger, when I accepted my place at that moment, I realized how close I was to being on the path.   I realize that if I was open to it, love will be there.   I have denied that too long.   If I was open to it, I could find my way out, but if I fought it and kept digging I will sink farther.   If I was prepared I would be safe regardless, If I failed to follow my plans I would still be stuck.  It was only when I stopped to accept it, would I get the true answer. 

In a matter of moments, someone about my age in a pick up truck drove up, and with out asking jumped down to the ditch asking me how I intended to get out.  I told him to give me tug.  He laughed and started digging for some tow straps.  How does all this work out?   When I trust I to.  When I let go of it and trust, it will be made so.    We went to work digging and fastening the strap to the passenger side front axle.   And I just put it in gear.   When the slack was pulled, it took a slight pull and I was rolling forward and up… I started to get excited, and it hung up.   I felt my jeep pulling to the left; turning perpendicular to the road, and I just knew to take the chance to downshift, throw it right and hammer on.  I could have rolled it again.  I should have.  The whole damn thing should have been upside down at this point.   But she rolled right up over the edge and onto the road.  It took the man by complete surprise as he jumped out waving.  I got out calmly to look at things.  Nothings broke.  Nothings damaged.   The trim is scraped up a bit.   I have grass and snow packed mud on everything.  But she’s all right on the road. 

As we pulled apart the two strap and unshackled it from his hitch, I asked him frantically for his name or his number.  I handed him 80ish dollars from my wallet… its all I had.  He wouldn’t take it.  He wouldn’t take my business card.   He wouldn’t even tell me his name.   Then he looked at me, shook my hand, and said, “just pay it forward in your life to someone else some day.”   That’s how I realized how close I am to being on the path.  With that he waived at me, and said “try to keep it on the road,” and he drove off. 

I sat there in the road stunned for a few minutes.  Its so important to have these moments.   I stopped and took my beads and thought about all of that again in the middle of the road, and drove the way home with them on my hand.   I still don’t know any more answers to my questions, but I have a lot more faith in getting onto the road and staying on it, after today.

More Things

If you haven't noticed, you must be new here....

So I did some rudimentary updates to the blog format.   It has been long overdue.  I don't care to look when I last modified this [but Google does keep track of that crap, I've noticed!] but we can agree its been quite some time.   I had to cut half the links out; most of these people never really consented to it in the first place, and the rest are dead ends.   Its definitely time to move on and do some cleaning.

Recent Going’s On’s

Among other things, I’ve been placing several irons back in the fire.   Several of my longtime projects are getting kicked back up the priority chain…   Obviously, reviving my blog here has been part of that.  
Secondly, my second [pun] blog,  BuyMeABurrito.blogspot.com , has been getting some key time as well.   This is all about eating.  Foodies better come rolling in!   It was out of necessity of trying to find a descent burrito in all my travels.   Sure, I can name several in Texas, Mexico and California… even some I frequent in the Quad City area that local for me, but this blog is purely about answering the question; Where can I Buy Me A Burrito?!?!  Expect about a half dozen entries by mid summer.  My goal is to start ripping off an entry a month [if I can travel that much!], always love feedback.  Besides, its about food that’s fucking amazing.
Third, I was a special attraction [read: circus clown] on a semi active podcast about World of Warcraft, the Grand Old Podcast.   I had been the featured artist from which the show had been pulling artwork for their web notes of the episodes.  I was drug on to be me for a little while, tell some stories [most of which ended up being edited out, thankfully] and talk about my art.   Turns out some people on the internet find me interesting… like a car wreck.   So I can announce we are formulating a semi regular sit down.  We are aiming for once a month, maybe more.  Pretty much me getting turned loose on hot microphones for a few hours.  It’s a good experience, and I’m excited to be a part of it! 
Fourth, I am going through all of my noted technology upgrades so I can really put more focus into my art.  Photography is something I really enjoy and would love to set my life and livelihood around.  Those of you that know me, know I’m not interested in doing weddings and newborns; but expose on life and landscape is just fine.  My hard art [read fuzzy images] have gotten some listening and murmurings from some art directors and museum directors, so I need to listen to that.  At some point I have to jump if its anything near me to grasp… hoping the next few months that can happen. 
/S

More Windows 8 Fun

Well my grocery list of problems is quickly shortened after a full day of research in Windows 8. 

At the moment my concerns are:

• transferring iTunes library and iphone/ipad backups
• transferring photo catalog and Lightroom databases
• review of missing plug ins for Lightroom and Mozilla
• last sweep of old XP installation for programs to reaquire

The good news is; I would say I’ve already met about 80% of my computing needs as is.  I could always start over with my Lightroom catalog [although I’d rather not!], and the photos are backed up and can be sucked backwards from the NAS unit as well… but iTunes is my biggest hurdle.  

From what I’ve read, iTunes is a pain in the ass to move if you have manually edited your music library and save data.  That means me.  Its also a royal pain in the ass because it’s a closed vault system, with everything encrypted in one large cluster-fuck file format [save data].  So if there are any expert migrators with iTunes success, I’m all ears.  

So far though; I'm pleased with the progress.   The power consumption of the new hardware is incredibly low for the features I have. It reboots from the suspend state in seconds… which is jaw dropping compared to XP or even Vista.  And the cold boot process is probably around 30 seconds—of which about 8 seconds sits and waits for the bios to load and pass before rolling into Windows.

My core I5 at 3.4ghz is humming along, 16gb of ram doesn’t seem taxed in the least [although I am going to double it shortly!] and I have a second 2tb disk waiting to get dropped in the bays.   Once I decide what the fate of the old beige box will be, there are two more 2tb drives to migrate into blackie black box.  At this point, I’m considering keeping the XP install as it is, and adding a Linux install on the beige box.  If I go that route, I will be adding in a kvm to the mix to alternate.  At this stage the worst piece of hardware in there is the on-board graphics. I hadn’t planned on doing a lot of gaming anymore, and I know nothing about the changes in GPUs' and slots for that… Plus, it seems to render all the environment without issue, and crunches photo data without complaint.   Cross my fingers; this is working out well.

A lot of my initial frustration with the OS has to do with the complete redesign.  But the widgets are really growing on me.  If the availability was a bit wider; or if I learned how to code what I wanted; it would be great!  The biggest disappointment has been Google of all people… they still deny the existence of Windows 8 widgets so it seems.   Actually per a short interview, http://news.cnet.com/8301-1023_3-57558839-93/google-no-immediate-plans-for-google-apps-on-windows-8/ The G unit feels there isn’t demand for any of their services that aren’t satisfied by cloud computing needs.  I disagree.  I really feel this would benefit from a quick, light weight Chrome window to run at the start screen, as well as a Google Drive process start screen.  Lets be honest, both of their major competitors in the cloud drive market are here with apps of their own [Dropbox and Microsoft's SkyDrive], and with Microsoft populating the experience in email and calendar, two more key area’s I prefer Google services, I really feel this is an oversight on Google’s part.  From the horse’s mouth:

"Our goal is to be able to offer our users a seamless app experience across all platforms and want to make our products available to as many people as possible," the representative said. "We're always evaluating different platforms, but have no detailed plans to share at this time."

Google Apps include Drive, Docs, Sheets, and Slides, as well as Gmail and Calendar.   [-- From Cnet article by Casey Newton.]

Not knowing what the licensing has to be for using the apps/widget process in Win8, I would still expect that the cloud sourced options of Google Docs would buy up a shitload of market share… as Microsoft still charges for Office 365 product line, and even it doesn’t have a descent app/widget.  Google could be king, steamrolling Microsoft at their own game, on their own platform. 

New and {Less?} Improved on Windows 8

Its been a while since ive posted anything…    so it should stand to merit, that while im here, there better be a good damn reason.

 

Ive migrated to windows 8.  

 

 

Let that simmer.  

 

This is the first new OS install Ive done since 2004ish.   Yikes.   While I have refreshed that install of Windows XP several times, and my laptop runs Vista [still, for now…], I haven’t even updated my linux format in years…. this has been a big jump.   After stupidly deciding to build my own machine, I also erred again by opting for Windows 8.   It’s a complete mistake to think you can acquire, assemble, and out price any PC manufacturer in the modern age.   With comparable parts, and without a copy of Windows, I was sitting just over 200 bucks over the off the shelf edition by Asus.  By the time I add a license, I’m approaching 300 dollars.  Again, I like doing things…  I like assembling… I like tinkering…. but I hate wasting money.   So by the time Windows 8 rolls around….   eessh…     I feel at a big loss.

 

I decided on it, rather than Windows 7; simply because of the age of the product.   Think about it: in its own environment, I could probably make Windows 98 work for what I do.  But when you start coupling services, protocols, and software demands on it; you move several steps forward.   I had been running Windows XP for years….  YEARS.  It was time to move on.  If I was going to bite the bullet, why spend as much on technology that’s already 3 years behind the curve… so I went Win8.  Thinking that future proofing myself was the best case scenario; and recalling that when I first installed Project: Whistler, in college [what became NT, what begot Win XP], I was on bleeding edge then as well.   If 8 serves me half as well, I’ve done my job with it.   Cross fingers..

 

Its been an upside down experience to say the least for the last 24 hours.   But im writing from a native blogging app; which should help me get back on the road to posting… stay tuned.  

 

Nothing about Windows 8, on face value, has much of anything to do with previous versions of the platform.   I'm finding that the root functionality does exist, but its been buried.  The new slick operation of widgets, [they call Apps], to run from the Start [button] screen, are a clusterfuck of confusion for the newcomer.   But a day later, I’m genuinely beginning to appreciate them. 

 

also follow my twitter stream…     tagged #win8 for my exploits!

http://twitter.com/alvarado_scott

 

 

**UPDATE***

 

 

I finally dropped some music into the stock player….  and seriously… who forgot the volume control????

 

I like my Black Sabbath loud, and I love it Dio… But a loud Ozzy, with no means other than rip out my line jack… not so good.   Oversight?   I think so.   Put in a fucking volume slider in the app.   Don’t make me flip through 18 metro tiles to change it in software!