I Can't Complain But Sometimes I Still Do

For over 40 years now I have been reminding myself of something that is very easy to understand...the days after my Dad come home from 7 years in a POW camp in Hanoi. How could I ever complain about any inconvenience in life that would not pale in comparison that time?
This was not a prison where you get out when your time is up, this was a prison where they could kill you when they pleased. To them, you were a war criminal. There was no guarantee of release or even living to see the next day.
My coffee is not hot enough? My boss doesn't appreciate me enough? We laugh and call these "First World Problems" now days. The strange thing is that even my Dad succumbs to this sometimes, and then we smile and remember, no matter what we have now, it beats the hell out of what used to be...

The Future

Man, I have no idea. I can't even see 6 month's out right now. My plans are for the next weekend, and then the next vacation adventure. Thoughts are about a car trip up the east coast, flying up to the backwoods of Maine, cruising in Alaska, or even contemplating a 6 month stretch of 'whatever'. I don't know because my job is changing and I was told that whatever happens, next year will be different. The things I do now will no longer be relevant, so I'm busy learning the things that I think might be useful down the road. That is quite a change, because most of the time I am busy making things work and learning more about the tools I use every day. It's a challenge, and a bit exciting actually, because I don't really desire a life where nothing ever changes. I still cannot imagine a life where I am retired and have 7 days a week to do what I try to cram into a weekend now. I watch my wife settle down with a book for half of the day and just don't see me doing that. I see me looking at rivers to paddle, waves to surf and trails to ride. If I have one hope it is that I somehow manage to have the energy to do those things when I get the opportunity. One thought does come around recently, is that I'd better grab my pieces of retirement where I can get them.

Having It All

I did pretty much feel like I had it all the middle of this October. I was going on what I expected to be a bland week at the beach, wondering what toys I should take to stave off the boredom of rainy days spent in a small room at a beach that I spent almost every weekend at for most of my life. Instead, we got a really nice room on the 5th floor, the best weather anyone had seen for months and a swell that would not die. The kicker was that I had a gig on Friday and Saturday night, and we hadn't played for a while, so I found a routine that lasted the whole week: get up before dawn, eat, practice music while waiting for sunrise, and continuing to practice until I saw someone else out in the water. Then I would grab Pam's beach chair and umbrella, plant those things on the beach and head out into the water. It wasn't a perfect swell, long lines, glassy, and a little deep in the mornings to break well on the outside, but with my paddleboard, I was king. I have never ridden so many waves in such a short time in my life. It got to the point where I would take my camera out and have 10 waves recorded before I was even thinking about what I wanted to shoot. I decided to explore and spent two different days working my way down to the pier from our condo, which was about a 60 minute paddle each way. I know that there have been many moments in my life where I wondered if I could surf better if I had more opportunities to surf, and now I am sure of it. You get to the point of where you are sure of what is going to happen next. You don't have to visualize it, you don't have to think about it, you just do it, same as I get up and run 5 miles. I don't wonder if I can make it the whole way, I just go. Life was simple that week. I surfed until I could hardly drag my board back to the car, and then read on the beach with Pam, and would ponder what new place to try out for dinner that night. Every night was something fun, tasty and interesting. Who could ever believe that plain old ordinary Cocoa Beach could hold such thrills. One day, I surfed until lunchtime and finally said, let's go to Sebastian Inlet, as I knew Pam wanted a little change of scenery. We stopped along the way to some of my old surf spots from high school and beyond and finally ended up at the primo surf spot of Florida. Surprisingly, no one was surfing. The swell was coming out of the NE at exactly the wrong direction and the waves were breaking into the jetty. That didn't matter though, because the fishing was going off on the jetty. Only a few times in life have I seen that many people catching fish at the same time. Birds were all around, baitfish hitting the topwater and pole after pole was bent over double as people were getting Jack and Redfish. There were some happy fisherfolks out there and we had a blast just watching the action. You know, I love to travel and see new exciting places, but sometimes, it feels good enjoying what's right there in front of you.

Retirement Age and Slip Slidin' Away

You know, it doesn't really feel different, and yet somehow I do not always feel the wonder of being out in nature. It's possible that I have found enough of it in my everyday life that I'm just taking it for granted, but I sure do not want to think I'm losing the "wonder" of life. What I want right this minute, is that feeling of I can't wait to get wet, put my board in the water and ride some waves with my friends. I'm out on the lake most mornings before work, on the paddleboard, communing with nature and it seems to really make me feel at peace. I'm starting to think that what has happened is that my race towards a life of retirement has morphed into a life of enjoying the life I have right now. I'm starting to see that the future is not some glorious place of promise where all problems have been solved, but a place where it is too late to do anything about it.

59 years done

Music, surfing, exercise, photography, life, it all seems like there is so much to do and so much fun. Even working in the yard, trying to bring organization to the chaos, feels good. Sometimes, I just wish I could put a hand out and give that feeling to someone else that needs it. I've got a couple of things going on now that I'm excited about and feel like it's going to be a good summer.. About the only change I've noticed is the realization that I'm as old as their grandfather, some of my friends. I guess it's better to feel younger than you are than the other way around!

2013 so far

The year of the flu, it seems like. Lots of sick people around. Good things, bad things, we have a lot of all of it right now, but at the same time I'm feeling peaceful. My wife took her retirement and that has definitely improved my quality of life. She is mellowed out like she hasn't been for years, and now we have time, so much time, that I didn't truly understand what I was missing before. I hope this to be a year of music, surfing, and the time that some things get figured out in our lives. One thing I'm starting to get, is there is no fixing everything, there is a lot of doing the best you can, and hoping it helps. I can now see that for one person, this will be one of the best years in their life and another will have one of the worst. I'm looking out at a gloomy horizon, when just a couple of days ago, we had some of the most perfect weather you could imagine anywhere. Maybe our life is like the weather, instead of feeling robbed by a overcast, rainy day, I should remember that this is exactly what makes the sunny days so beautiful.

Finding the 5th Way Out

It's been a long time and many things have happened worth writing about, but I have found it almost easier to write short snippits for Facebook. That aside, it's about time I addressed this year's Adapt Or Die at work piece. We moved to a new building, built just for us, something cool, that young people would love, and old folks would get used to. Bottom line, the company saved a ton of money and we all get to work like we are in a boiler room for a time-share business. The first day, I didn't think I was going to make it, I mean I could BE there, but I could not seem to work. I was truly struck numb by the volume of noise and movement of people. At the time, my best comparison to friends was I felt as if I had parked my computer at an end-cap at Costco. I quickly invested in expensive noise-cancelling headphones, but found they did not address the constant visual distractions. We had almost 400 people packed into this place and it seemed like all of them went by my desk at least several times a day. There were good things, really good, free coffee, and soft drinks, even Red Bull. The building boasted the best WiFi I have ever used and it is entirely possible the WiFi saved my life and sanity. When I was a kid, I read this Science Fiction short story by Robert Heinlein and I can still remember the dramatic first sentence: As part of an experiment, a monkey was put in a box with only 4 ways out...the monkey found a 5th way out. As I sit here, at a picnic table, outdoors in 60 degree weather, enjoying the sunshine, the sound of the wind through the trees, sipping good coffee, working on my laptop, I realize that I too, found a way out that was not imagined by the builders. Who knew that happiness was less than 1000 feet from misery...