Road Rage

On the road of life, there are forks, pot holes, and speed bumps. In my years of driving this road, I have come to accept and prepare for these obstacles. I have had to drive down the wrong road to know the right one. At times my vehicle has been shaken, stalled, or sped sideways. Yet the road continues and I must journey on.

The sights around me change like an old movie I have seen before. I pass familiar faces and places. The speakers songs, serenade me back to days long past. I roll down the windows to unwind the wind that seems to continually beat upon my doors. Through the mirrors and signs, I'm reminded of where I have been and where I am going.

On this road there are no rest stops or hotels for which to retire. The wheels keep turning. I'm constantly moving forward. However in my lane of this journey, I've hit traffic.
I have glimpses ahead of my future destinations, but I can't reach them fast enough.

The seatbelt holds me to my path. My foot plays footsie between the brake and accelerator, without ever being satisfied. I start to doubt my progress. I worry about being late, missing my appointments, and never getting to where I want to be.

On the road of life I am currently caught in rush hour. The road continues and I journey on.

Change

My dollar becomes 4 quarters, 10 dimes, 20 nickels, and 100 pennies.

Yet it still adds up to a dollar. Why then do I need change?

Change is good. Change is difficult. Change is constant.

I change my clothes. I change my car oil. I change my hairstyle. I change my mind.

Some days I want the dollar bill, some days I want the quarters.

With each transaction and transfer I'm transformed.

Change creates options and opportunities.

My dollar becomes 4 quarters to pay for my laundry, 10 dimes to buy my candy, 20 nickels to play the arcade, and 100 pennies to make my wishes a reality.

I'll keep the change.

Texting While Driving Society Down the Toliet

The downfall of our society. We thought that with advanced communication devices we would all talk more. We thought cell phones would keep us connected and closer than ever before. Yet we have become even more distant.

We rarely talk. We don't even have close friends anymore. We have created an advanced network of people. They are still called friends. But these friends are rarely seen face to face. Instead we like a live studio audience or maybe a stalker peer into each others' lives. We don't want any other contact with them. If they were to call us, would we answer?

We enjoy having them distant from us. We don't have to commit to all the past friend responsibilities. Do we call them on their birthdays? No, we simply send a message. Not a message on a card we selectively purchased at the store then mailed. Rather a short statement along with all the other "friends." Do we visit each other? Do we share stories? Do we really talk?

Have you ever texted someone only to have them call you in response? Maybe you called someone after you got their text. What happened? Was a new social norm disrupted?

Technology even allows us to have video conversations. This technology was before only dreamed about from movies. Are these video convos helping us? Maybe if you really, really want to see and talk to someone. For the majority of us, it feels awkward. I know I've been in video convos, where I feel like I'm wasting my time. I suddenly get the urge to multitask and I start looking around for something to do.

Are we that insensitive? Have we lost all communication abilities? Is body language going to become extinct? We the text messaging generation are destroying communication. If you have any thoughts on this be sure and text me, email me, or comment, but please don't call, visit, or video me.

Post in the Clowns

As a clown collegiate, one is often ridiculed by society. They mock his colorful hair, poorly fit paints, and large yellow bow tie. But the joke is on them.

Not only does he get to make people laugh, but he gets paid for it. He also gets to be a complete idiot, partially on purpose. He doesn't get embarrassed or ashamed. His face and identity are always covered up. No one knows who he really is; to them he's just a happy red-nosed, big-shoe wearing, white- faced friend. What a life.

At times he even risks his life, and that's no bull. Unlike the great matadors he laughs in danger's face.

Everyone knows the famous clowns, Ronald and Bozo. They had successful careers. They brought joy and happiness to people. Today, they are still making money and still being talked and written about.

So laugh it up chuckles. He is laughing too, even more than his painted on smile portrays. You will see him throwing pies, juggling, and making balloon animals. However you will not really know him. But as he drives by, smashed into his tiny car, he will honk the horn, give a wink, and tip his pointed hat to you.

He's not clowning around, he will have the last laugh.

Honestly

On my honor the truth is what we want to hear.

Truth is trustworthy, loyal, and virtuous. It is incorruptible, unlike falsehood which is just corrupt.

Honestly I would not lye by dishonesty. I could hurt my fidelity with Truth by lying with Fib. Maybe I would then have to lay low and lie still.

Will I get ahead if I lie down on the job? No, I would take the consequences lying down. Truth would then lie by the wayside.

These lies lie upon my mind. Like some piece of food that lies through my teeth. Perhaps it's the grit from my integrity.

Don't be deceived by my disguise, I'm just being Frank. Is that brutal? It shouldn't be, I dressed in white.

Honestly I'm being honest. Why should we lie? Is it better to live trapped in a set or out in the open?

On my honor the truth will be heard.

Home

At the end of the day, after all is said, and all is done, you want to be home.

Enclosed by four walls, it's the place where you can be the most comfortable.

Every utensil, every book, every piece of furniture is mapped out in your brain. Temperature controllable, doors lockable, and lights adjustable, it's your space.
The world is now a guest, that you can invite in or keep out.

It's no wonder the slang word for a close friend is Homie. Although often surrounding, strangers summon loneliness. In dark cold streets, little safety or comfort can be found. Your heart may beat the rhythm as baseball fans, Homerun...Homerun...Homerun!

After the player has hit the ball, thrown down the bat, dodged getting out, he must then run home. Sometimes he may even have to slide, jump, or crawl. But once there, he is safe. No matter how dirty, torn, or scarred he is, his team rejoices.

Look up on your computer screen and you will see home is just a click away. You can always return to where it all begins.

Wherever you are you want it to feel homey, but you don't want to look homely.

Being home for long periods of time makes you crazy, yet being away for long periods of time makes you sick.

Ultimately after after all is done, you look homeward "...you realize that the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore...all of the sudden even though you have some place to put your stuff, that idea of home is gone...or maybe it's like this rite of passage...you will never have that feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, for your kids, for the family you start. It's like a cycle or something" (Garden State).

Homeless we may be even though we may be housed.

LIFE.

I live it daily.

The older I get the more I realize how little we all know. Everything we do is an act of faith.

We are constantly in the ring fighting our challenges. Some of these challenges are self imposed, most however come naturally without coxing. As we grow older and toughen up, the challenges do as well. They just change form.

Gratefully we have our coaches and our fans cheering us on. But ultimately, its us that throws and takes the punches, not them.

Family may at times tap in, but we are the main fighter in our ring.

We must practice, we must prepare, and we must pray. These actions come from our choices.

Choices are like friends. We meet them daily. We worry about them. We want lots of them, yet once we do, we find we only really want a close few.

How then do we win? What is winning? In the game of Life, the fastest person, with the most money and cards won. But, in boxing and in life, that's not always how it works.

The fighter who fights a good fight and overcomes his opponent wins.

A winner lives his life.

Daily pour yourself a big bowl of life, savory what you know, toughen up, and fight faithfully.