Had to think quite a bit about today's gratitude post. I had a few choices rolling around in my head but for some reason most seemed somewhat connected in some way or another to my previous 5 days posts.
And the other thing I noticed I've been battling is my attempting to remove as much humor as possible from this 'Challenge' and keep things on more of a serious level. And for those that know me, they know that's a huge battle within itself. I like to laugh and I enjoy making (or attempting to anyway) others laugh as well. It's what I do.
So keeping things serious has been a job to say the least. And upon reading this you may think to yourself 'He can't be serious' but I can assure you, to a guy this IS a serious subject.
Hair. Yep.... HAIR! More specifically, haircuts. I don't know about other guys but for me, gettin' my hair did can be a hair raising experience. And not always in a good way. You pretty much take your life in your hands by putting your hair in someone elses hands.
Now, if you have an attractive female cut your hair, it's difficult because you can get all follicly funkified and wrapped up in the head massage and she can pretty much put a salad bowl on your head, get out the garden shears, quickly trim around the bottom of the bowl, then rub your head a bit more and you're in la la land. Even if the bowl was crooked when she cut your hair, you're still like double thumbs up in Dizzyville with gratitude.
And although, when she's finished fumblin', you can't help but see it's all wrong, you don't have the heart (or the footing stability) to say anything. You just empty your entire wallet on the counter and you and your dopey smile go on your own dizzy way.
But when you get your hair cut by a guy, to me that requires total trust. It can be a pretty uncomfortable situation as is, so you have to have complete confidence in the results before you even begin to sit in the chair. Once the trimmer starts a buzzin' and the scissors start a scissorin', there ain't no goin' back. Hopefully at that point you've done a good job of communicating your desired results because once your hair is gone, it's gone. Let the choppin' begin and forever hold your dustpan.
So you might have guessed by now that today I visited the Barber Shop. I will say this is anything but your typical Barber Shop, that's for sure. These guys' bread and butter are all those insane 'artwork on your head' type cuts and trims. Which, to be honest, aren't really my 'thing' but I've also never really been a generic Supercuts kinda guy either.
Nothing against them but I want what I want and what I want is modern, stand out from the crowd, make a bold statement of 'I GOT THIS'. And I'm willing to do the research and make the drive to get what I want. Luckily for me I've finally found a place and a particular Barber that knows what I want and delivers. Head and shoulders above anybody else I've been to, that's for sure.
Not that it's a super difficult cut that I'm after. Just that I don't have to use hand signals and stick figure drawings to get my point across. I want what I want and he knows what I want. 'Nuff said.
And no, the fact that he said I have a great head of hair has nothing to do with it. I already knew that. But knowing there won't be a combover of any type in my future is a huge plus. So all this to say that I'm grateful to have a decent head of hair to work with, found a Barber that knows his shizzle, and is truly a cut above.
Day 7 ~ Excuses.... Excuses
What is it they say again about excuses? Oh yeah, "An excuse is like dryer lint. We all have some but it's always fuzzy and never seems to hold water." Or somethin' like that. Anyway, you get my point. At the end of the day all excuses are is basically a trumped up pseudo reason of sorts to either prolong, postpone or outright bail on a task that needs completing.
And even as good as we 'think' we are, most people have used the same excuse so many times that they know darn well when you're using that same lame excuse. After all, how many Grandmas can one have. And for that matter, how many times can ones Grandma(s) pass away. Last time I checked only cats have nine lives. Not Grandmas.
The reason excuses come to mind for me today is that I could have easily defaulted to a pretty decent ready made excuse for not going on my Daily Desert 4.3 mile Jaunt. That being a relentlessly howling 15 to 20mph windfest, with gusts even higher than that. Wind strong enough to stop you in your tracks.
Add to that temps a bit cooler than they have been lately and I pretty much had a ready made recipe for 'Screw it, I ain't goin' out there in THAT!' waiting for me at the tip of my tongue. But I made a commitment to myself to stick to these daily walk/hikes, despite the not so pleasant weather. After all, people jog in the snow. For fun.
So if they can do that, then I can sure as heck walk in the wind. And I did. And yes, I lived to tell about it. And lemme tell ya, the feeling of accomplishment from doing something I didn't want to do (even though it benefits my overall health) easily trumps a well played excuse any day of the week.
Regret has a way of diminishing the returns on any excuse, so even though you might think your excuse was all that and a bag of Frito's, at the end of the day it actually wasn't. Not even close. You didn't buy it even as you were busy selling yourself on it. And neither did anyone else.
So next time you're thinkin' about playin' the "Grandmas Fifth Funeral This Month" card, perhaps you should think again. Excuses be damned, once and for all. Just git 'er done! You'll be glad you did.
Day 8 ~ Hope
That's right.... HOPE. Sounds simple, right? Well, you'd think so but that wasn't always the case. At least not for me anyway. Especially not this time of the year. Nope, the Holiday season is without a doubt the most brutal time of the year. I'm usually anxiously counting down the days until Jan. 2nd, hangin' on by my last cuticle, doing everything I can to make it through.
Perhaps it happens to many of us in the SNF (Single, No Family) Club, I'm not sure. But when you combine the lack of sunshine from the shorter days, the cold blustery temps, the feeling that everyone else is enjoying the holidays but you, blah, blah, blah and it turns out all you can think about is that big ball hitting the ground in Times Square so that you can hang your new calendar on the fridge and get your restart started.
And if you have someone special on your mind. Someone that you'd do anything to be spending your time with but can't, then multiply this hollowed out dark feeling by, like, a millionthousand percent. Or more.
But this year for some reason things don't seem as dark, dreary and downerish as usual. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jumping for joy when I see the sun drop behind the mountains at around 4:15 every night. No sirree, not gonna happen. I'll never be happy about that. But this year I have hope.
Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope for a better future in the future. Is it because I have hope that I'll be meeting a very special someone in the nearby future? That could be part of it. But that too relates to hope. The hope that I will indeed be able to meet that special someone. And very soon, I hope.
Could it be that there are some very special opportunities about to open up in the upcoming weeks and months ahead? Quite possible they could have something to do with it as well. But there again, that also relates to hope.
At the end of the day it appears that the main difference this year and the past too many years to count is this year I have hope. Hope for a better today. A better tomorrow. A better next week, next month, next year. Certainly seems like hope is the game changer this year. So I gotta be grateful for hope. Hope for a better future. Hope everybody has a great Thanksgiving.
Day 9 ~ Willpower
Yep, I'm grateful for the benefits of willpower. Some people say there's no such thing as willpower. It's more of a decision based situation. Which I guess is true to an extent. Either way you choose to look at it, it's still a mind based, self control kinda thing.
I always thought without a doubt that I didn't have any. Willpower, that is. I mean, if I had any I certainly would have changed my life long before I did. Correct? I sure as heck wanted to, that's for sure. Well, as I've come to learn, perhaps that's not always the case.
Maybe it wasn't willpower that was missing from the changing of my life equation after all. What if it was more along the lines of a lack of passion. Or motivation. Or desire. Or who knows, a myriad of other possibilities come to mind that could have kept me from sticking to my goals and changing my life. But apparently willpower wasn't to blame after all.
One particular episode comes to mind that helped prove me wrong. Wrong about me. It was at about month three of my Journey To Sobriety and I was without a doubt struggling with my sticktoitiveness on a daily (ok, hourly) basis. Struggling to hang in there and continue forward, doing my best to stay strong. And sober.
And I muttered "Damn, I suck at willpower." And a friend quickly pointed out that in fact, it was just the opposite. If I could make it 3 months, then I obviously had somewhat of a reasonable amount of willpower. Just how much, at that point I had no clue. But upon further inspection I had to agree that he was right. I must possess some degree of willpower to make it as far as I did.
Three months might not seem like all that long but for anybody that's ever attempted to take sobriety on, I'm sure they can relate to just how long 3 months is. But the longer I battled on, the more willpower that was required and sure enough, I surprised myself and delivered. And without a doubt I've been forced to rely on that very same willpower many times over the years since then.
In situations where I normally would have grabbed a beer (or twelve), planted my ass on the sand and watched the waves crashing on my life, I chose to take on those situations and tackle them head on.
Good or bad, rather than pretend they would just up and vanish if I closed my eyes hard enough, I dealt with them until their eventual outcome. And then if need be I'd get in the ring once again, doing battle until a resolution was met.
As it turns out I never really knew I had any willpower until I truly needed it. So today I'm grateful for willpower and however much I actually do possess.
Day 10 ~ Transportation
Yes, basic transportation. Something most, if not all of us, take for granted. From the time we're little kids we pretty much know that eventually we'll be driving our own car. It's guaranteed that at some point we'll be rollin' along in wheels of our own. Our 'ride'. Our 'whip' (Ok, I never called any of my cars my 'whip'. Just sayin'...). Our 'baby'. Our whatever.
Some of us look more forward to that right of passage than others but at the end of the day, it's the key to the worldly independence that we all seek. And things start to really heat up as we enter our teens, knowing that we're gaining on our drive to DMV and attaining our Drivers License.
At that point in our lives, at least as far as guys are concerned, the only other thing that comes to mind as being anywhere near as important would be getting to second or perhaps even third base. But I'll save that 'attitude adjustment' for another day.
Anyway, back to being grateful for transportation. Without a doubt I grew up in an Auto Enthusiast household. My Dad was always involved in something to do with cars. From the early days of Drag Racing, Hot Rods, Street Rods, Antiques, Classics, pretty much the entire scope of the auto world. I'm not sure if I was born Car Crazy or if it was something I was submersed in as a kid and it grew from there. Either way, I was bitten by the car bug as well.
Matter of fact, my first real car was a VW Bug. But for me, my four wheel fever started quite a bit earlier. More so when I received my first two wheel (Ok, four wheels if you count the training wheels) Ironhorse (Ok, Plastichorse if you really wanna split hairs) for Christmas. From that day forward, it was on!
As I grew older, my Dad would spend more Sundays racing his 'Vette at the Drag Strip. And the highlight of my week was, upon arrival at the Strip, helping to swap the rear street tires for the 'slicks' so he could race. And then swapping back to the street tires so we could tow the 'Vette home. Not to brag but at eight years old I obviously played a huge part in his being a tire spinnin' Class Award winner.
As he began to get more involved in Street Rods and Show Cars, winning awards there as well, I guess a bit more of the transportation 'thing' got a hold of me as well. By the time I was ready to get my Learners Permit, I already knew how to drive.
I rode and raced motorcycles for much of my childhood and the trips to the desert and other areas allowed me to hone my driving skills. Once we left the pavement, heading for the riding areas, my Dad would let me take the wheel, driving the truck the rest of the way to our destination.
I pretty much couldn't hit anything (made out of concrete) so what harm could it do. And it sure helped me eventually pass my driving test quite easily. I've had many cars throughout the years. Some slow, some fast and some in between. Some for fun, some for usability. Some even made out of wood.
Loved Woodies, still do. But my most fave car of all was my lifetime dream coming true when I bought my brand new Bavarian Built Badass BMW M5 which was capable of 200+mph (Well, in the US they are "electronically limited" to 155mph). Which as it turns out is kind of a good thing because I've come to learn that 'things' happen quite a bit quicker at the 'limit of speed' than they do at the 'speed limit'. And that's all I have to say about that.
Anyway, back to being grateful for transportation. Lately I've noticed quite a few cars broken down and out here in the desert, many just plain stuck and needing a tow job. I've lived on both sides of the road. I've hauled ass and had my ass hauled around as well. And lemme tell ya, haulin' ass is the funnerer of the two.
Being car-less, meaning without transportation altogether, totally sucks. When I lost everything in the Real Estate market crash, it eventually consumed EVERYTHING I owned which included not only my cars but my vintage skateboards as well. And that brings on an entirely new meaning to majorsucky.
Of course, when you're actually experiencing this majorsuckiness while living in a rural town where the nearest Mini Market is half a mile away and it snows 5 months a year, that only compounds the majorsucky factor. By about a trillionmillion. So when I say I'm grateful for having my own transportation, I feel I'm qualified, if not overqualified, to say so.
And while my semi notallthat faithful truck that I'm currently driving is by no means anything to write home about, at the same time it does get me back home on a regular basis. And gets me to the store and other various areas around town with a reasonable amount of dependability. And that's something to say when the nearest Mini Market is now over a mile away.
So today I'm grateful for transportation. Never again will I take it for granted.
