'Never Leave Your Ghost Somewhere'

My grandmother, Agnes, was an eccentric woman. Nice. Dutiful. Loved her family. And, very much into all things occult.

Professionally, she was a seamstress in Newark, New Jersey, and worked in one of those poorly ventilated sweat shops there for more than 20 years. It was always sketchy about what happened to her husband, my grandfather, but my mother said simply: "He died."

OK, well, 'Gram,' as we called her, saw a ghost behind every tree, around every corner and she was very adamant about it; utterly convinced of the truth of ghosts. So, one day, I guess I was 5, I asked Gram about why ghosts '...didn't go to heaven?'

She wasn't great with explanations, but she said it like this: "When you have something unresolved in this life that is big, then you leave your ghost behind until you finally resolve it."

I asked what happens if you never resolved it; Gram said, "I don't know."

Pretty grim stuff for a little kid to hear. But, there was a kernel of truth in what she said about needing to get things resolved in your life at some point. Years later, I was a chaplain for a time at Capital Health in Trenton, New Jersey after I finished seminary in New York. I worked with a lot of people who were end-of-life patients: It was something of my specialty.

So, my experience is that when there are big outstanding issues with people, they have a very hard time letting go of life, despite horrible, painful medical situations where it seems improbable anyone can live. And, I have seen those same people pass very serenely if their issues were resolved there in the hospital room with loved ones. It was really quite remarkable.

So, where am I getting at?

Recently, I dealt with a few things hanging around from the old days that really irked me; rented space in my head or whatever you want to call it. And, some things changed. I feel better. I still deal with my medical problems, and they are a burden but, when I got rid of my old business, it felt like 150 pounds was taken off my shoulders.

It felt and feels awesome.

You see, I pray and meditate now, and even do a little bit of the Tai Chi katas I used to take at Amato's Karate, in Hazlet. I gave up booze, caffeine, tobacco and dairy and it has been great. But, getting myself back in total (mind, body, spirit), for me, means clearing up the old business.

I like to think I am not superstitious but maybe that's not true. Because one of the reasons I have always felt weighed down by old issues was what my grandmother said about "leaving my ghost behind." Hey, I love life but I firmly believe in heaven and when I pass that is where I want to go, not rattling chains in some K-Mart or suburban McMansion.

Psychologically and emotionally, all of the occult theater aside, I also think it is very good to unburden myself to take part in the next great part of my life: Retirement. It is a return to childhood in some ways. The focus becomes me again, as well as those I love. This is my time to engage in the "Happily Ever After" I have always been looking for myself.  To travel lighter for this journey, I am working very hard on getting rid of the old, icky karma and allowing myself to experience joy and serenity again, in earnest, and for good.

I know, my approach is a little 'Zen,' but it makes me feel a hell of a lot better. I laugh now. I never get angry at anything. I don't need to feed bad habits anymore -- I don't have them. And, I spend a lot of my day thinking about calories I am eating and how many calories the carbohydrates in water enhancer there may be. I want to keep it pretty basic now. And, that is why leaving the complexities of the old life are a good idea, not only for me but for anyone looking to turn over a new leaf, so to speak.

I saw Michelle Obama got her AARP card recently. I get mine in another year and change. I look forward to it. It is a metaphorical ticket to the rest of my life. And, I look forward to it. So, congratulations to Michelle: Hip, Hip, Hooray!

I have droned on enough for one night. So, thanks for stopping by. Best of luck and health, so seeya later, alligator.

THE NEW NAMES: They Suck and That's Just the Start

Hear Ye, Hear Ye -- The Old Fart Is Bitching Again!

So, when I was growing up in the 1970s, every now and again by the light of a full moon, you might run into someone with a weird name: Dylan; Knute (I knew one); Benton, or something like that. It was rare. And, all it signaled was that a kid got stuck with a weird name because his or her parents were trying to be 'special.'

It was a fairly standard line-up in my days, mostly boys and girls were named after saints or there were traditional names running around. Let's see, pretty common were names like: James, Luke, John, Simon, Peter, Harvey, Stanley, Thomas, William, Patrick, Anthony, Francis, Richard, Harold or George, among others.

For girls, let's see: Mary, Mariam, Marilyn, Judy, Ruth, Melissa, Frances, Sandra, Kimberly, Patricia, Ann, Stacey, Michelle, Andrea, Victoria, Susan, Dawn, Marie...you get the idea.

Well, all things have to change, right?

So, through the years, things start changing. For boys, you start seeing a lot of Ryan, Dylan, Brody and that kind of thing. With the girls, you started seeing a lot of: Madison, Dakota, Cheyenne, etc. Alright, a little weird but -- whatever.

Then, somewhere in the early 2000s, it got stupid. Now, all of these names are people I have met or know, without exception. For boys: Decker, Reever, Boston, Lex, Striker, Stryker, Rock, Xander, Shamlin. Well, we've traveled pretty far from 'George' now.

For girls: Saber, Sabre, Philadelphia, Donatella, Crimson, Sunset, Meadow, Baltimore, Brooklyn, Morocco and Lattice.

And, let's not forget the interchangeable, for both sexes: Dale, Devon, Devin, Star and God knows what next.

OK, I get it. Stuff is different than the day. To my ears, the new stuff is goofy. And, here is why I think it is happening. So, if you have been reading some you'd know that some sociologists believe that parents, since the 1990s, have been doing this exaggerated "Child Worship" thing with their kids. Basically, parents wrap their kids in Saran Wrap now and give them a nudge when they're 30.

We have "helicopter moms," "tiger moms," "soccer dads" ... I can't keep up. So, to distinguish their child from every other child in the world, they give them a name so unique it is unlikely anyone will ever meet another one. Because every child is so utterly special that none of them need to get jobs cleaning anything, driving anything, busting their ass at anything. Basically, they're too good for the 'growing up' that everyone before has done.

And, where has it gotten us?

Fair Question. So, we have a young male population that is less competent, physically and academically, by and large, than any other generation before it. And, these boys are fatter than ever before. Hey, go team! Good one, parents -- quick -- blame the school board!

Now girls have totally changed roles with boys and that is fine. A lot of the girls I know want a career, definitely a child -- like one, and maybe a man or maybe not a permanent man. It's more than being equal now, women are (in my opinion) more academically inclined, job-oriented, mission oriented and more worked out than their male counterparts. Because 'men' have made themselves extra baggage in this generation. So much for building another temple to privileged youth.

Here's an old-fashioned question, old fart that I am: Who is going to like --- have babies now? So that we can replenish our job force; provided that the kids coming up aren't 'too good' to do anything and the country should just mail them $100,000 checks every month or so.


At what point are children going to have two parents again, if ever? With Gay Marriage on the rise, is Straight Marriage finally taking a header off the top of a cliff? I don't know, but things don't look good here, guys.

Hey, it's not our generation's business. I understand that argument; I espouse it. I have no dog in the race anymore. I'm done working and I have no plans of ever returning to working (unless I get a new body that works). The young people are inheriting the world. Youth is worshipped. After 50, everyone is supposed to disappear. Hey, I'm on target and on script. But, on the way out I would tell you this -- if you want to keep the industrial might of this country going -- the real power of this country -- you have to act.


Want to fix the economy? Let these young ladies have a go at it.

I would stop arguing about illegal immigration and swear-in every hard-working, honest illegal alien in this and get them paying taxes like now. Because the main culture has the worst, most confusing crop of young people I've ever heard of in U.S. history (minus the young women, who may take over the entire world: we should arm them).

If history has taught us nothing, though, it is this: Someone has to change tires, sweep the floor, do maintenance on the cars, fix the elevator, do masonry, electrical...etc. And, if you look at all those jobs right now, to their credit, you will see an awful lot of undocumented workers busting their ass to make a dollar in this country without a quarter of the bitching you'll hear from young people. They're hungry, like our grandparents used to be. They appreciate America -- like us and our parents did. And, they don't play video games on the couch all day. They work. Sounds good: Sign 'em up.

Right now, this country is re-arranging deck chairs on the Titanic when it comes to Social Security without the muscle, sinew and 'can-do' attitude of Americans not born in this country, or raised as a 'worshipped child,' who isn't in Saran Wrap and is ready to do a damn day's work.

The truth is there are some special things about all of us. Yes, there are. But, to think that any of us are all that unique -- so dissimilar from other people -- is a lie. Unless your kid is in the process of curing cancer, writing the next great opera or some amazing math prodigy -- how about feet on the ground again?

In my day, I got out of the Army and took a job scrubbing toilets in a flea market. Gross? You betcha. Well, I worked my ass off and then I got promoted to assistant maintenance supervisor. OK, little better. I kept working my ass off and became the maintenance supervisor. Not resting on my laurels, I worked even harder and became the assistant market manager for my facility. Ultimately, I was made a manger. I worked my way up. I didn't show up one day, put in an application for manager and try to haggle a company car in my resume.

You know, it's the young people's world right now. But, I don't think their way works. It lacks character and hard work in a lot of fields that demand it. And, it's a little too ridiculous to think everyone is going to be a CEO. But, whatever.

Of course, not everyone's son or daughter fits into the tidy stereotypes I have provided here. But, I think there may be a lot of glimmers of truth for some people they can recognize. Anyway, no offense meant to video games, couch potatoes, or unfit and unambitious young men.

With that said, I will stop writing so I can have my hot cocoa tonight, take my medications and get to bed early. Maybe I will listen to some Sinatra before I go to sleep or watch the news. That's my Friday night. All the best to everyone and have a nice day! Seeya later...gators.

Problem Fixed

So, I think I have the whole technology thing squared away with. So now, I can continue my march into egocentric mediocrity with some more columns that dole out the metaphorical wanderings of an old coot, whose main bucket list item has become to yell at a bunch of kids to '...get off my lawn!' lol

Computer Issue

So, I planned on writing this piece about politics. There is an issue with my computer that it just isn't formatting correctly. So, rather than put up some ugly looking column that makes me look like I didn't graduate fifth grade I'd rather not publish at all. So, I will resolve my computer issues and try to get back in the saddle here shortly. Thanks

Multi-Tasking: No One Is Really All That Great At It

Multi-tasking is a doorway to a heart attack

I heard a lot about "Superwoman" growing up in the 1970s, as Moms went to work more and more. Then, men starting working harder and harder; women started working harder and harder. Until there is a culture and ethos today that, be it a man or a woman, someone can "have it all."

"Have it all" means someone can have a 60-hour per week salary job, go to school at least part-time, be a good parent, a great spouse and an amazing lover...oh, and work-out regularly. This is all before commuting and/or ever getting sick. But, the conventional wisdom is, all anyone has to do is "effectively balance their time."

I don't care what sociologist, therapist or writer says all of this is possible: It isn't. Are they nuts!? I actually think so.

There isn't enough time in the day to do all that stuff. Someone could get a heart attack or a hernia trying to do all that. To make it seem like "multi-tasking" is a reality, the definitions of what a 'good' employee, a good employer, a good husband or wife, certainly a good parent or even a good person had to change. 'Good' had to be watered down to 'Just OK,' for the most part.

Anything that anyone concentrates upon acutely will get done better than anyone who is trying to 'multi-task.' Jonas Salk, the doc who found the cure for Polio in the 1950s wasn't a 'multi-tasker.' Amazing musicians, like your garden variety Arthur Fiedlers, don't get that good without concentrating upon one thing to the exclusion of everything else. And, college students who focus on their grades are going to beat the hell out of a multi-tasker's GPA, unless he or she is up against some "Beautiful Mind" kid who is naturally brilliant.

Let's call it the way it is; don't pour water down my leg and call it rain. People have to earn a living, both parents have to work in a family, and they have to do what they have to do. Sure, Mom and Dad try to keep up with stuff -- maybe they can hold it together for a while but let's talk about the divorce rate while we are at it.

Here is my thesis: People who have too much to do are not the best parents, employees, employers, students, board members, athletic coaches...you name it. People are working so much there are more heart attacks today than ever, because now women are dropping like flies just like men used to back in the day. The 'home' has been utterly destroyed and marriage is nothing more than a speed bump to the next relationship for most people and the only thing that works kind of OK are the bank accounts -- if someone is lucky.

Listen up, living like that is no better than existing the way animals do. Cavemen ran from large predators and took refuge wherever they could. Being warm-blooded, man had the ability to move around anytime, especially during the day, and cold-blooded predators didn't; ergo man wins. But, is the way people are living today any better than scraping around trying to hide from other kinds of cold-blooded predators? People prey on other people these days. Financial institutions prey on people today. The world mankind has made is one that doesn't allow for any kind of quality of life for people trying to scrape by. Hey, if someone gets a bachelor's degree right after high school, now they are in debt like $50,000 before they've made their first dollar.

In the 1940s and 1950s, the Greatest Generation managed to save the world from Nazis, rebuild economies all over the world from World War II, build the great bridges, colleges, dams and structures of our world, establish most of the athletic benchmarks that still exist in many sports and...they made it home for dinner at 5 pm. And, no one can pull off 1/5 of what that generation did despite the fact they have so much technology they could choke a horse. Mom was able to be home and raise the kids during the day, but Dad was there a lot of the time too. Because he didn't have to work like a Coolie on a train track hammering in spikes like today.

The days of women at home? Gone good-bye

Meanwhile, marriage was something of worth. It had value. It was usually for life. The whole world was built upon the fact that American society and culture was wholesome, united and rowing their oars in the same direction. Hey, I am not saying any of us should dial back time or the tides. The world is what we have made of it and it can't go back. Trying to pretend there is some time machine back is ridiculous; besides, a lot of the 'Good Old Days' were pretty bad with racism, sexism and a lot more 'isms.' So, let's not candy coat it either.

But, this world we have all made is suicide, and filled with so little unity and meaning between people, communities and even in this nation that we should be proud of very little by way of the new Great American Society. But, here is an idea, a thought...a bit of what is on my mind: Get off the merry-go-round. Run for your metaphoric life.

Have a job but don't make it your life. Make your life your life. Have a family, and make it work: Be there for your spouse and your kids, and keep to your vows without balking. If you're a coach, it should be because you have the time and everything with your family is fine...actually fine. And school? Newsbreak: It's stressful. Take it easy on school if you have a lot on your plate. Something has to get off your plate before something else jumps on.

People automatically know what 'too much' is. We are born with the knowledge of how much is too much. But, thanks to Oprah, employers, work-out gurus and the movies everyone thinks they are great at multi-tasking. The truth couldn't be farther from the truth. Most people outright suck at multi-tasking and are just doing everything "half-assed," in the language of my late father.

Hey, what is important to you? What is the thing you want more than anything in this world? If it is a family, then have a family. Try to include a partner that isn't disposable. One-parent families produce a lot of incomplete people, whether they know it or not. That is not to say, of course, that someone should hang in there if a partner is abusive or addicted to anything you don't have time for. But, make the real effort, not some half-way attempt at something.

Do you want to be great at work? Great! Don't have kids if you plan on never seeing them or, worse yet, you can't afford them. Then, live at work, order Chinese like it is going out of style, and use those damn sports tickets the company gets too -- you deserve 'em! But, don't make it too complicated. Because when you make your life too complicated with other people, you are going to disappoint them, by and large. I'm not saying everyone will. I know this guy, Clark Kent, he works as a reporter. He can have it all because he was rocketed to earth as a baby from his exploding planet of Krypton. But you? Since you have no super-powers you better slow your damn roll and figure out what you actually can and cannot handle and still be the kind of person you want.

Sure, I drank too much, I worked too much, I worked all the damn time. I went to school while I was drinking too much and working too much. Oh yeah, I tried to have a family too. Meanwhile, I was on so many civic associations I could barely remember them all. The drinking alone didn't do me in. The lifestyle I chose to adopt and the people I chose to put around me were garbage. I was doing everything like my Dad said: "Half-assed." Half the time, I was working too much to even grab a shower every day. Meanwhile, sleep? What the hell was sleep?  Go to the doctor when I was sick? I can't. I was insane.

Of course, I fell down in a real big way. Then, after my houses, cars, wife and mistress were gone (yeah, I was horrible at being a husband), I had all the time in the world. I fell completely into my alcoholism and BANG! No more scheduling problems -- I had all the time in the world. My phone didn't ring anymore. I burned out, though in my case it was spectacularly public.

Nevertheless, the point is that I know how people that do too much feel. They are trying and trying to catch up, but their life is a damn hamster wheel! My suggestion, get the hell off while you can! Find a new sound. Restructure your life so you have quality in your life, with whatever you decide is 'quality.'

In my experience, you know what unhappy people do...for the most part? They become miserable bastards. They are miserable at work, to their neighbors, to their family, employees, friends, check-out clerks at stores -- and telemarketers really get unloaded on. When they 'retire,' they don't enjoy a damn thing either.

There is another way to live, though: Sanely. Pare down your life until it looks the way you want it to be, with the people you want with you on your life's journey while you're not commuting half the day to get to someplace you really don't want to be.

'How do I change my life, everything is too hard?' I can't answer that. You're the guy or gal who got yourself into whatever in the first place; you have to figure a way how to get out. But, if you can get out...if you can do it... it's pretty nice over here. I lost weight, no more bags under the eyes, sober as a judge and don't miss the sauce, closer to God and even my hair is better. Can you believe that? I can't. I sleep nine hours a night like a baby and wake up feeling like a million bucks, despite a whole lot of injuries and conditions I have. I think sleep rewards us with a lot of things...better health and a sense of calm two important benefits. Sure, I still hurt -- but not like when I was trying to kill myself at work.

I am arguing for life being worth living. I am saying you cannot have it all because we are human, so we are not strong enough, smart enough, healthy enough or able enough to do a thousand different things. There was only one perfect man ever made in this world, and we killed him for it. Get out of the prison you made for yourself and get back to basics. No one will ever regret enjoying their life again.

Here is a scene: A man is on his deathbed in the hospital. He looks up at his lovely wife in his last moments and says, "I know I could have made regional manager if I just got that quarterly report in quicker 25 years ago. Now I don't have that job and......" And, he dies. A nice life? Yeah...no. He died years before, buried in his work, but he kept breathing until finally his body caught up.

Be the guy or girl that looks back and smiles when they see their accomplishments, remember their friends, family and even their work. Balance. Balance is important in anything one does. There's no way around it.

Thanks for stopping by, seeya later...alligators.

Bipolar: Picking Up The Pieces

I am not an expert in bipolar disorder and am certainly not a doctor. At no point did I receive training in the illness or even formal familiarization. However, in the mid-1990s, my then-wife was bipolar, and whatever I learned about bipolar, and it was a lot, was from 'living' with her.
To begin with, bipolar disorder is one characterized by extreme highs and lows where it involves emotions, moods and physical activity.

When someone "cycles," or shifts between extremely high activity and positive mood to extremely low activity and mood, there is even a change in personality. The change in personality can be so total it is amazing. However, as I understand it, some people who are bipolar cycle frequently while others do not.

Why know this? Most people are not impacted by bipolar disorder. Well, true enough. But I am speaking to those people who are and their families, friends and loved ones. Because bipolar disorder is no joke. I went through hell with my ex-wife for two years,  before I absolutely could not take it anymore and divorced her. No one wants a divorce, not ever, but it all went too far. And why? She wouldn't take her medication because she "liked the way her highs felt and wasn't going to give them up." She would explain, "I feel on top of the world when I am on an 'up-cycle,' " she said.

Maybe Mary (her name wasn't Mary, but why be vindictive?) was having a good time, but I sure as hell wasn't. And, I went to see her psychiatrist, and he explained this disorder as best he could to me to try and understand and help Mary. However, Mary was having none of it. Despite the fact she went to her psychiatrist and therapist loyally, she would not take medication for long stretches and then only take meds for a little while.

So, here's what I didn't sign up for when I married her: sexual promiscuity with other men, extreme use of drugs and alcohol, spending sprees on credit that we could not pay back, tirades and screaming, all-night 'processing feelings,' days of not leaving the couch or showering, unexplained absences for long periods and generalized insanity; every single day, no let-up. And, at that time, she exhibited no signs she wanted help or treatment at all despite the fact she openly lied to her clinicians as she received their treatment (which she would not implement at home). In Mary's case, she was deceptive to her doctors and caregivers.

Not all people afflicted with bipolar disorder are impacted as heavily by the disorder as Mary, nor are deceitful to doctors during care. But, Mary sure as hell was. And, none of that was necessary. Thank God for medical advances in the Modern Era, which possesses medication to arrest the disorder so people with it may have long and relatively normative lives. But, there is a common problem in some people effected by the disease in that they will not take their medications because they like the 'high' that comes along with it, from what I have seen in my experience.

Mary stood her ground: No meds! Well, no marriage can stand up to a partner flaunting out-of-relationship sexual liaisons in another partner's face, or spending every cent and more than they have, or coming home to find another partner 'coked up' or drunk, or sleeping for days and stinking from not showering, not working and when not constantly attacking me in one cycle, crying for forgiveness in the other.

Right out of college, where we met, Mary was a young teacher who immediately found a position in the Piscataway, New Jersey school district. She taught art. Meanwhile, I received a job as a small-town reporter out of college, but I was ambitious and eager to rise through the ranks.

Mary didn't take her medications, so she couldn't find time to work after that and quickly quit/lost her job (hard to tell which). Then, rather than support me, she turned our marriage into a sham and almost cost me my entire career. How we would have lived I do not know.

I remember one Christmas like it was yesterday. When she was 'up' on a cycle, she used our credit cards to buy gifts for not only her mother and sister but also for cousins she hadn't seen in years, as well as high-school and college friends she was out of contact with. And, she said she didn't care if we didn't have a dime, because she "was going to be happy this Christmas no matter what!" And, after Christmas? She said, "We can kill ourselves after Christmas and be done with everything!"

No joke, folks, I didn't think that sounded bad. No, I did not want to divorce my wife. I loved her. Despite the fact I had been married previously, I worked as hard as I could in my marriage to Mary because I do not really believe in divorce. But let me tell you, no one in the Bible ever had to deal with a woman like this. And, there is a point at which no one can take it anymore. I made it to that point and beyond.

Luckily, I didn't have to decide about going on, because after a string of affairs on me, Mary fell "in love" with a degenerate gambler and decided to take up with him. She made my decision for me. He wasn't just a gambler: He was the kind of gambler who had loan sharks and bookies looking for him. He had to sell television sets from his home, steal from his parents and run and hide to avoid beatings by people he owed money to because of gambling and/or drugs.

Well, I cannot say I wished her well at the time. My heart was broken, my wallet was bare, my ego was stomped upon and  I barely managed to hold on to my career, which I ended up more than salvaging and ended up doing quite well at for some time. I had to go through Chapter 7 Bankruptcy, though, because she buried me in debt.

The last time I saw her face-to-face was after I received a job as an editor for a large weekly newspaper in Middletown, New Jersey. Mary came to my office demanding something or other after our divorce was final. I informed her we were no longer married, business between us was settled and anything between us had been addressed in a Monmouth County, New Jersey courtroom. Still, she persisted. It ended with me threatening to call the police to have her removed from the building. And then, despite all of the mess, there was finally silence -- blessed silence.

Why was all this needed? Not because Mary was a bad person. Mary was and is a very good person, who is now remarried and has a kid. I believe she takes her medication now, and probably doesn't miss a dose. She doesn't want her life falling apart around her again.

From talking to Mary's doctor and doing independent research in the library about bipolar disorder, I learned it is not uncommon for people with the disorder to go on spending sprees with money they don't have, be so hyper sexual with random people they become promiscuous despite serious relationship obligations, lose jobs from not showing up or not clean themselves and sleep for days.

If you are in a relationship with a bipolar person, you better understand what you are getting into with a person so afflicted by talking to a doctor or other credible medical person for advice. Like I said, not everyone is as heavily impacted by the disorder as Mary. And, Mary would have been, could have been fine if she had just have taken her medication: It was that important.

Mary never told me she had bipolar disorder before we got married. We had only known each other a few months and got married spontaneously in, no joke,  Las Vegas, Nevada. Nevertheless, I took this marriage very seriously. I paid for being haphazard and spontaneous for a long time.

This is why I urge people to understand the disorder by talking to professionals. They can decide what they want to do from there. But, bipolar disorder is serious business that deserves serious attention and support by everyone involved. Bipolar disorder may make people with the disorder spontaneous, but there is nothing spontaneous about addressing it -- and people should know that in order to help whomever they know with it.

Again, thanks for stopping by and I'll be talking to you later...alligator.

DANCING: More than Just a Tradition

Why don't people dance anymore? People have been dancing, alone or in pairs, since the first caveman threw the first-ever rock at the second-ever caveman. It has been the traditional way boys meet girls, or even one of the ways men meet women in a social situation.

When I was a kid, I liked Metal and Disco. Metal had a great sound and, where it involved Disco, it was  awesome because I liked to dance with girls. And, when girls went out to dance...well...they usually looked OK. So, I'm on the record: Disco is fine by me.

And, for a while there, the Disco phenomenon of the mid- to late-1970s was literally all over the place. No matter what television channel you turned to there were the Solid Gold Dancers (not hard on the eyes for a teen), some Disco music show or other, or some promotion for any one of a hundred different dance instructors pushing a record and booklet (yeah, remember that?).

I didn't mind...I liked to dance because I wanted to spend as much 'face time' with girls as I could possibly get, really to figure out how I could date them. My mother had made me be her dance partner (when my father and older brother wouldn't do it) since I was like 7 years old, so I learned how to dance some; it paid off. At the time, though, the last thing I wanted to do was spend an hour or so three or four times a week dancing with my Mom.

Nevertheless, I owed Mom for that one, for out of the toils of labor sprang forth the fruit of hope -- I could dance and not fall over myself and that was appealing to girls who liked to dance. I was a polite kid, too, and that helped. So, I threw myself headlong into Disco, bought the clothes and all, and went to every school and church dance there was that I could get into for an event. I even went to church dances at places I didn't go to church at whatsoever.

Why? Girls.

Then, one day, something terrible happened: A radio station, during the late 1970s (I think), in New York was sponsoring a "Metal Rally," wherein event-goers would bring their vinyl Disco records to Shea Stadium and the records would be ceremonially burned to loudly announce the "Death of Disco."

What? What the hell were they talking about? What does anyone have against getting dressed-up and dancing?

Surveying the likes of the 'Metal Horde,' I couldn't help but notice that, in many instances, hygiene was an outstanding issue and there was a decided lack of girls in their ranks. There certainly wasn't any dancing and all 'Metal Heads' did was listen to music and bob their heads up-and-down. When there was a girl Metal Head...well ...she was usually dressed down, to say the least.

Later on that changed as Metal got more sophisticated, in the 1980s. But, up front, in the beginning, the whole concept kind of sucked for me. I couldn't see the use for music I sat down for three or four hours to listen to and didn't get up once from my seat to do anything. And, why? To sit in an auditorium with thousands of other people and bob my head up-and-down? Are you kidding me? I could buy the record and save the ticket price.

So Metal won. During the '80s there was a big revival of dancing for a while, but it was nothing like Disco. Nevertheless, as a young man I would find any nearby Disco and close the joint out if I didn't have to work the next day.

During my father's day, even the most uncoordinated wallflower, if someone with a gun pointed to his head told him to do so, could pull off a box-step if they had to do it. But then again, someone brandishing a firearm to make someone dance isn't likely to happen outside a Mexican cantina in a Spaghetti Western. Nevertheless, there is cinematic precedent for that, if not a precedent rooted in non-movie history.

As I got older, I still danced but not as often. I wasn't a "dancing with myself" kind of guy. From what I remembered when I danced with Mom, even though dancing was intended to be fun, couples usually practiced so they looked good on the dance floor.

Hey, look at that! A relationship-building event! And, it's one where both people are interacting with each other, working toward common goals, three or four times a week. It's these kinds of things that help to make marriages and relationships stronger between men and women, or even same-sex partners (God bless them).

Americans worship going to work, though, and they work more than any European country and have less to show for it in the bank. When people do their best to work 24 hours per day and they are paid a salary, as white-collar people usually are, then they sometimes throw themselves into the work and 'to hell' with anything else.

You know, I'm just chirping in here...but that idea absolutely bites in my book. Why do people work? So, our choices for an answer are: A. To afford a full life, which includes friends, family and maybe even a significant other; or B. To work one's self into an early grave with just a few close family members and one or two friends, the significant other can either wait or be patient with their time 'constraints.'

Actually, I stole a few girls from other fellas who subscribed to 'Option B,' I don't mind saying.

I love dancing, but getting involved with any hobby or pastime with a significant other is really important to building relationships and staying in close contact with your other half. You know, relationships commonly break-up due to many reasons. Often cited as common reasons couples go their separate ways are: 1. Money, 2. Sex, 3. Jealousy, 4. Started leading separate lives, and 5. Arguing too much.

Well, dancing can't help out the 'money' category. So, at some point, people have to work to live (it's a time-honored tradition). However, in my experience, sex and dancing have a correlation. It's hard to be jealous about a significant other if you're dancing partners -- because you're spending a lot of time with each other. Also, it is not possible to lead a 'separate life' when you are dancing with each other regularly. You can't dance with anyone from another room. You cannot buy an app for your phone to dance with your wife, husband, boyfriend or girlfriend. Finally, if two people can cooperate on a dance floor then the chances are they can cooperate with each other more than adequately in their real lives.

I am not saying that dancing is the Holy Grail of relationships. I am promoting it as good exercise, a nice relationship builder and enjoyable pastime. Of course, anyone should check with their doctor before starting any exercise/dance program. You wouldn't want your partner to fall over from a coronary or break a hip.

As for me, though, I plan on using my retirement to become an elderly Arthur Murray after I get my own orthopedic issues ironed out with my doctors.

Anyway, thanks for stopping by and all the best!

READY...SET...GET OLD!

Good health at any age is important

Aging is a son of a gun, folks, I'm here to tell you. Well, I'm not exactly an actual senior citizen yet; I am a disabled veteran who is right on the half-century mark but effectively deals with most of the things seniors do insofar as mobility and diminished mental facilities (e.g. recall). And, it's not getting better so I have to live with it, and it is what it is at this point.
Someone got mad at me not so long ago for using 'it is what it is.' I don't know why, but if anyone reading this gets upset, let me tell you what that means: it's not going to get any better and it's as good as it's going to get and it isn't horrible. Yep, that's a good, tight definition there.

So, my head got beat around pretty good when I was a soldier and I received multiple concussions. At first it was no big deal, the years went on and the effects of the concussions weren't too much at first. I had some tremors and a few seizures, which I didn't know were seizures at the time, and I just went on. Then, as I neared my mid-40s, the wheels fell off of the memory, tremor and seizure thing pretty good.

Today, I cannot take my memory for granted. I have to carry a notebook with me at all times or use my smartphone to record things as they happen: write down addresses, important phone numbers, key instructions, appointments. Because though my pride wants to say I can remember things, my brain is laying it all right out there and saying it can't. And, you know what they say about pride going before the fall; that stuff is as true a .45 caliber pistol at 15 feet. It's also as deadly.

Pride and vanity amounts to foolishness (said the fool who was so proud and vain in his life). Still, the Lord dealt with me by sending me out into the wastelands of the United States as what amounted to a wandering beggar for my sins. I just hope I've done enough to not have to go back to that ever again. One way not to is to cut it out with the pride nonsense.

Then there are my bad knees, which are pretty bad and they both have to be replaced. I'm lucky to be walking and am grateful to the Lord for having the mobility I do. But, I have to make use of those knees for now. So, how do I do that? Right off the bat, I plan my life accordingly.

I live less than a mile from where I work and there are paved roads with wide, nice sidewalks between where I live and there. My second-floor apartment has an elevator that goes down to the floor. I schedule my transportation needs around the facility shuttle that goes here and there for residents. I do not exceed the limits of my body's ability for any reason other than a legitimate emergency, and I stay in regular contact with my health care providers, among them my general practitioner and physical medicine doctors.

There's a laundry list of other junk that's wrong with me, but let's keep it to the concussions and the knees (I wish). Because there are a number of seniors who have recollection problems and mobility issues. The other stuff is kind of specific to me and most seniors don't have those issues.

However, I do not any longer say, 'Oh, but I used to be able to do this or that.' Those days are just yellowed pages of a history book that neither I nor anyone else cares about anymore. It is so much more refreshing and gratifying living in the world as it presents itself now. Everyone wants to be young again. No one likes being older than younger. But, here is the stone cold fact: Younger people are more athletic than older people, by and large and with some exceptions. Nevertheless, if you play baseball and bat against Sandy Koufax when he was 22 you're probably not going to get a hit. Take the same situation and you're batting against Sandy Koufax when he's 55 -- well, your odds have gone up immeasurably.

Is it time to rethink eating habits?

Remember how you used to be able to get upset? Rant and rave, scream and shout? Throw balled up napkins at the television when your football team gave up a touchdown? Well, today, that could significantly contribute to your blood pressure rising and that behavior isn't a great idea from a health perspective.

Old age or infirmity makes us become better people or, if we don't, we die. It is a strange kind of natural selection. If someone is dumb enough not to take care of themselves after a certain age -- well -- they get very sick, or injured, or die. I don't want any part of any one of those things.

Let's talk about eating unhealthy (e.g. junk food), smoking and drinking alcohol...yeah, it's so obvious I don't even need to say the words. Go to the damn doctor and let the man or woman do their job and make the necessary recommendations and referrals to qualified nutritionists and other professionals.

As an older person, life has to change. You have to have a plan for staying vital, because a "...failure to prepare is preparing to fail," in the words of the immortal UCLA Coach John Wooden. There is no reason why older Americans cannot be healthy and vital into their 80s, but it will not happen by accident or good genes. It will happen because someone is living a predictable lifestyle, planned just for them by their medical team. And, that might mean exercise, vitamins, physical therapy, naps, rest, medications, increased hydration...whatever.

Of course, there is always what is sure, as an option. What is sure is that, if someone does not drop their bad habits at a certain point in their lives, those bad habits might just claim their lives. And, for anyone who thinks that is a good idea there are therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists that could probably help you find a better solution for yourself than letting yourself fall into a pile of spare parts.

No one is in the workplace at a certain point. OK, that is a whole other part of the world. The work world exists on a whole other planet than we are on. The battle of the fittest is certainly strong and going on there. And, those people go through a whole other set of priorities than older people who are out of the workforce.

So, if you're comparing yourself to these people: Stop! There is a battle of the fittest going on with seniors too. He who retires longest, with the greatest health, comfort and quality of life wins! OK, now that retirement has been made appropriately competitive for some, let's get the idea across that the foundation of a healthy mind, body and soul begins with your body.

Just because we get older doesn't mean that we can't enjoy the same things, albeit in a different way, than before. And, frankly, some of the bad habits from our youth or even middle age were heading for the scrap-heap anyway -- so now is as good a time as any to get rid of them.

I'm not giving you more of the same 'blah, blah, blah,' I'm saying it straight -- there is nothing magical about restoring yourself to the best health you can enjoy. Go to your darn doctor, listen to what they say, do what they say and, of course, if you want a second opinion then by all means. But, these people go to school for quite a while to know what they're talking about and I plan on making mine bust a sweat because I'm asking so many questions.

Any of us only has one life. One body. One spirit. One mind. It's time to be positive and stop self-pity if there is any of that going on about getting older. You can take hold of your aging process somewhat (God has an awful lot to say about it too, after all) and get positive about helping yourself. Of course, by helping yourself you help everyone around you also.

As I come to this part of the road, I look down the path some -- as much as I can see. And, if I do not get myself together for this part of the journey, it's not going to be much fun...let's just say it like that. Yet, after busting my ass for more than 30 years pushing myself to the absolute limit physically and psychologically there has to be a payoff before I go to the dirt -- besides from being pushed around by a lot of kids in senior facilities that could care less about me than how much they can get for me from my Social Security before I die.

I worked in places like that, not too long ago, so no one needs to argue against that point to me. You'd be more successfully arguing with a wall. In retirement, as in the rest of life, the only one who is going to make sure that you are taken care of, for sure, is yourself and maybe your spouse. If you are very lucky, members of your family (and God bless the good ones).

I wish the best to everyone as usual, and hope that someone gets something out of these little rants of mine. Of course, if not, I really couldn't care less. You see, I'm too old to be aggravated about anything; that asks for energy I would rather spend elsewhere. But, all the best!

THE DEVIL! The Untold Story

It's just another day at the office for the Devil in this depiction.

Is there a Devil? Emphatically 'Yes' and I've seen him.

Lucifer is, of course, the Devil. Lucifer is reported to be a fallen angel, who rebelled against God and was cast down to Hell with his followers, who became demons in the Pit (as Hell is also known). The Archangel, Saint Michael, is reputed to have bested the Devil/Fallen One in personal combat, sending him reeling in defeat. So now, Lucifer's 'job,' if you will, is luring and tricking humanity into straying from the righteous path of God. At this, he has much practice and many instances of success.

It is said that, in Hell, his domain, Satan/the Devil tortures the souls of the damned for all time, as they pay for their sins in his fiery realm. Satan has been depicted as having a ram's horns growing from his head, possessing a tail, with his feet being replaced by cloven hooves as he carries a pitchfork to reap the souls of the wayward.

I have not seen that Devil. I have seen the Devil in me, as I ruined my life with pride, lust, addiction, avarice, greed, envy and sloth. Yes, I have seen that Devil, and he has been a fearsome foe my whole life long. I have battled him and fought him and I have won some and lost a lot. Hopefully, though, my story is finished with a final victory after being in retreat after a score of humiliating defeats. It sounds a little like the American Revolution there, doesn't it?

How many times I was passive as the Devil attacked my psyche and my life I cannot recall. How many times he stole love, my home, integrity, faith and loved ones right out in front of me just when I thought I might find my way back. Make no mistake, the Devil I am talking about is far more dangerous than a distorted vision of humanity. The Devil that I believe is there dwells not within a fiery realm, but within our own hearts, our own minds. He is the worst parts of ourselves, which has been turned into a character in religion.

Oh, it doesn't matter what form the Devil may take. He lives and breathes and is there, on the job, every single day our eyes awake to this better-than-all-other-worlds planet. And, Lucifer will claim your soul, if you let him. The greatest victory ever won by Satan was that he got people to believe he doesn't exist. Well, he does. The Devil is in my heart and yours. No one of the flesh is without sin, and as we battle our personal demons -- we fight the Devil in earnest. When any of us fights against the Devil, they fight an awful challenger but one that can be defeated.


Faith is a real part of our own salvation. How can it not be?

I'm not going to say that running to a Church is the way to go, or running into a therapist's office, though those are good ideas for a balanced life, no doubt, I think. The greatest gift and curse mankind ever got was free will. Each of us determines what is right or wrong for themselves, and God gave that to us. In history, there have been evil men who thought they should regulate people's freedom and they are the worst sort, whom I hope reaped their rewards for such a heinous atrocity.

Nevertheless, freedom belongs to every soul born on this earth. But, behind every decision we make stands the Devil, trying hard to influence what path we take. So, I believe if someone is doing what they can, within a reasonable understanding, to be healthy (regardless of how well or not well they pursued this before), and they are seeking or pursuing actual medical treatment for their ills, they are on the road to salvation.  If someone is making a legitimate effort to reconnect with their higher power, regardless in what form that effort takes, then I think that person is on the road to salvation. Because someone fighting to come back from hard times through faith and trust in their higher power is a moving target that is going to escape the grasp of evil more times than not. It's faith that saves them, and why not call that response by God 'Amazing Grace' while we're at it.

In my experience, it is hunger, anger, loneliness and being tired that sparks bad decisions in the moment. However, poverty, illness, injury, addiction, unemployment, homelessness, hunger, fear, loss and hard times can be the setting that will fan the flames of poor decision making. By addressing the real needs each of us have in this world, then we make ourselves stronger against the tide of evil and not weaker.

For myself, I never believed any person, be it pastor, pope, pontiff or Presbyterian, has any more of a connection to God than I do when I wake up and greet Him good morning. When I pray to God, I do not need to be in a Church with incense burning (though that is a lovely environment). God hears me just fine, and that comes with Him being omniscient.



Heading back to sanity is our choice.

All I have to do is try. But, I have to try to make my own life better using that free will that so often got my ass in trouble in the first place. Irony, isn't it?

Rather than using my free will to find a liquor store or talk shit, start a fight or stagger down a street, I have to use that free will to eat healthy, listen to my doctors and do my best in all things. And, that is work. Recovery is not always fun, but it has phenomenal rewards. It is living responsibly and living in such a way makes me a harder target for the Devil to hit. The target becomes even harder to hit when I reach my hands out to come home to the Lord, in my case. I've reconciled with God and my soul is calmer -- and I did it without sending even one well-dressed minister lunch money. Yeah, God doesn't need money.

I would be missing the point of this whole journey if I ever forgot that I was as bad a sinner as there has been. No, not the greatest sinner, but a sinner no less. I don't think being is a sinner is like taking karate, where you get belts to show ranks. I am no better than an alcoholic in the throes of his or her illness because I do not drink for today. It is the brokenness that engulfed me that has given me the want to reach out to people and help in the little ways one person can to another. Yes, I lead a better life today, a sane one, a rational one and one rooted in faith for the God that slept beside me when I was homeless, living in a snow-bound hobo camp in Nebraska during the winter of 2011. Yes, He was there.

So, in my life, I have seen God and the Devil. Both of them are as real to me as my next-door neighbor. Both of them have business with me, but it is up to me whether I listen to my better angels or fall prey to my darker ones. In the end, though, it's all my choice.

RETIREMENT: A revolution for me

I started my retirement not so long ago. No, I am not rich, but I am holding my own and I do not think things will get worse, I think they will only get better. But, I am incredibly done with the world and its mayhem and nonsense.

If I retire and change nothing about myself or the world around me, why the hell do I need to retire? I've already dug myself into an early grave in my working life. I'm already disabled from doing my best out there, and I am lucky enough to get out of the working world in one piece, alive and not so disabled I am not yet in a wheelchair full-time. So, I have run on this hamster wheel for 30 years and that has to be done now.

Retirement for me means I have made a commitment to change myself and everything around me. I am going to rediscover health, healthy eating, positivity and positive relationships and do so in environments I feel comfortable in, around people I feel comfortable with. My current 'big project' is me. And, that includes balancing my finances and how I get along in the world.

I am my career now. Note the use of 'I.' There is no 'I' in team, but there is an 'I' in retirement.

"OK, let's go the extra mile! When you're body is screaming, power past it! Go!" said my baseball and boxing coach, known eternally as "Coach Mac." He was a badass and he taught me a lot of what I learned about being a man. But, while coach was right about sports preparing his guys for life, his philosophy doesn't cut it in retirement.

Now is not the time to power past the pain. Now is the time to reconcile with our bodies, minds and spirits. Now is not the time for ambition or climbing to the next rung or working all that hard on anything except returning one's self to factory and showroom condition.

If not now...when? When is 'some day' going to happen if not in retirement?

If someone wants to work until they die or work themselves to death, then by all means do so. Then, we don't see eye to eye and that's OK, this is America and people are allowed to disagree.

I proposed a revolution to myself when I contemplated retirement: I no longer live for others, their needs, wants, desires, dramas, careers, health and welfare. I live for my needs, wants, desires, health and welfare. Alright, with that said, what do I want? OK...no one really asked me that before...I guess I want to be healthy again, have good relationships with people, feel well adjusted all the time again and fix my injuries (physical, psychological and spiritual). I want to get closer to God but that doesn't mean going to church.

Then, with that said, there were now tougher choices to make. There were things I had to buy into so that my revolution can work. I have to leave my petty hatreds, jealousies, anger, unhealthy relationships, dramas and most of the old people in my life (not everyone has to do this but I do). I have to remake who I am and live for that new person and transform my world into the positive place I want it to be. And, dragging along old problems and dramas isn't going to let that happen.

I can reconcile all of the leaving behind arguments and dramas in therapy, which I go to loyally.

There are too many children getting raised my grandparents, too many 30-year-old children still depending on parents (even living at their houses), parents who are delaying their exit into retirement because children cannot effectively enter the workforce and start taking care of themselves. And, if that is how people want to live their life...I am not one to get in the way. Then, that is the destiny they made for themselves and their choice. I hope such a course of action allows them whatever they are looking to do.

I choose to not rely on anyone else but me. When my time comes, then I will rely on my health care proxy. But, I will not depend on young people. This generation is horrible with responsibility anyway. I have never seen a worse crop of males, for that matter, and the 'power women' of this generation are more interested in running the world than they caring for anything except...yes...themselves.

I know what I am talking about here. And, I am not being harsh; I am being truthful. And the macro-picture of the world does, to some degree, resemble the micro-picture of my life. No one is going to care for me the way I want except myself. And, I choose not to retire like my Dad (staring at a TV screen until I die a few years later). I choose to use this part of my life to live the greatest journey I ever have: I am going to make things right with my body. I am going to restore myself to the peaceful, positive person I naturally was -- but lost along the way because of all that facing adversity stuff. While I am doing all that, I want to learn to pray like I did when I was eight years old. I want my relationship to God to be as easy as hanging out with a buddy after grade school.

I am seeking to be selfish. There are no two ways about it.

I would love my children to visit. I would love to exchange cards with old colleagues or friends at the holidays. But, that's probably it. I don't want to go back into the trenches that was my life. Nope.

Being there for people emotionally is also a wonderful thing. But, it brings me down and really messes up my day, and I don't need that either. I have to be honest here. When I need to talk about my problems, I go to my psychologist, whom I see regularly, or my pastor, whom I see less regularly. But, I don't put my stuff into my relationships with other people in my personal life. It's going to stay that way too.

Retirement can be the reward each of us has been looking for in our lives. It can be the chance to do all those things you wanted to do in your life. Of course, there isn't the money there that was when I was working: OK. I don't need stress-reliever trips to Puerto Rico or the Amish country anymore. I have been to Virginia and Washington DC dozens of times by now and seen whatever I was actually curious about in my life. Maybe I will move one more time in my life, but that is it basically. Yeah, I look for a warmer climate. Something like Tampa will suit me fine, but no rush.

No hurry.

'Hurry' is over.

I loved some of the things I accomplished in the world. I was really disappointed by some things that happened in the world. But, that was then and this is now.

I want to ballroom dance again with a happy partner. I think I have that one covered, though. I want to either take up Tai Chi again (NOT Yang style) or maybe Yoga (for seniors). I want to have my shoulder repaired and my knees fixed so I can play golf again. And, I want to learn to sew and maybe embroider. If I can walk for fitness, once I have my new knees, that would be swell. If not, I'm going to have to be OK with decreased function...so we'll see. But, no matter what, I am keeping my sense of humor and love of life.

Oh, and in retirement -- there will be romance. Not just masticating pulverized chow in a senior center -- actual romance again: candlelight, low-lit dance floors, warm breezes and nice suits. Sure, it can't be full-court press, but there is room for romance too (albeit on a budget).

Retirement may be my last act, in many ways, but it will be my best one yet. I don't think I really grew up all the way until now, so let the games begin!

WIRED: Facebook is dead?

New Study: Teen are marching to a new beat on social media.

According to WIRED Staff Writer Ryan Tate, "Facebook Is 'Dead and Buried' to Teens, and That's Just Fine For Facebook." Ryan cites anthropologist Daniel Miller, who has been studying Britain's teens, ages 16- to 18-years old. Miller reportedly conducted a 15-month-long ethnographic study of social media in eight countries.

What Miller allegedly discovered was that Facebook has become "uncool" to teens because it has become so widely accepted by parents and older Americans, as a means of keeping in touch with relatives and the like.

Of course, any company that is publicly traded ceases being considered "rogue" or "inside" by anyone. And, young people enjoy many things, prominently social media among them, that are their own; less a part of the cultural mainstream as they are part of the teen-age 'scene,' if you will.

On Social Media Bulldog, Staff Writer Ben Baggett is quick to come to Facebook's defense, saying that even though teen usage of Facebook is on the decline by teens, the number of them using Facebook still amounts to "total penetration" by that demographic. Baggett is asking the question: "Facebook is no longer the fashionable network for teens, yet they are still using the service. Why?"

Why, indeed.

Other social media outlets have been noted by Baggett as realizing increases in usage as Facebook slowly slips from the mantle of top 'teen destination.' Those outlets include: Pinterest, which has increased 6 percent; Twitter, which is 2 percent more popular; Instagram, which is 4 percent more popular; and LinkedIn, which is also 2 percent more popular.

While the teeny bopper bunch may be snubbing their nose to Facebook in droves, Baggett quoted a Pew study that stated usage by 20-24 year olds has also dropped, from 63 percent to 52 percent. Oh no, what will become of the world should Facebook not be popular!? OMG what will my BFF do? No more ROTFL or TTYL on Facebook-- ah, the good old days

Facebook is a good way to keep in touch with friends and family who are living far away, though. And, proving that Facebook has now become the 'anti-cool,' use of the service by those in the 35-44 age group has steadily increased over the past year.

Still, teens should bang the drum slowly and wear their black armbands, as their once-beloved social media hub is now crawling with middle-aged people who are trying to keep in touch with one another, as well as their kids and other family. How could it have happened? Well, I suppose I could offer the opinion that, at some point, everything and everyone grows up if they want to stick around for a long time.

More than any other society on this planet, Americans despise middle- and old-age, and people who fit into those categories too. Though many people are just as competent, or even more so, as when they were 25 or 35, still so many doors slam in the face of older workers.

In my experience, older people are 'allowed' to mop up and clean, empty this or that, help by cleaning bedpans or 'greeting' people in stores -- but many professional positions actually become barred to them as those gray or silver hairs start collecting along their sideburns and temple.

So it is only natural that when Facebook started growing its own gray hairs, it too was pushed to that part of the bus reserved for seniors set upon masticating the Denny's 'early bird special' and catching a nice, slow walk around the mall.

COPING WITH PHYSICAL INJURY...'CHARLIE MIKE'

Pablo Picasso self-portrait

"Charlie Mike" is an expression I learned in the U.S. Army, which simply means "continue mission." However, it is also an answer to things that are important during times of decision. For example, if someone were to say to themselves, 'It's too cold out to go running this morning, I don't want to do it.' Then, there is this little voice in the back of your head that yells to get the heck out of bed and stop sniveling; that is Charlie Mike.

Any athlete or physical fitness enthusiast knows about determination through adversity -- all kinds of adversity. However, though Charlie Mike is tough to apply to healthy athletes at all times, it is even harder to apply to injured athletes or physically active people recovering from injury. Sure, all of us should do what we have to do, whether that is physical conditioning or in recovery. Recovery can be very hard, though, depending upon the injury. And, there are times when it takes a real kick in someone's ass to get them on track. Unfortunately, only the individual concerned can provide that kick in the ass, for the most part.

When I was a paratrooper in the U.S. Army, I was in supremely good physical condition, and after the Army I pursued a physically active lifestyle that included a reasonable amount of conditioning. I had been injured on multiple occasions while I was in the service but nothing was really manifesting as permanent. Specifically, I had injured my shoulder and knees, as well as my head. But, then one day -- those bad knees raised their ugly head.

I was running along Martin Luther King Boulevard in Tampa, Florida in a one-mile run (which I did a few times a week) and, while running across an overpass, my left knee just went out like it had been hit by a shotgun blast. I had no idea what happened. I was shocked, confused and scared -- all at once. I reasoned, 'This must be a mistake.' So, I tried to get up...and that left knee was not going to walk: period.

My house was about a half-mile away, not too far away from the stadium where the Buccaneers play. Consequently, I limped home slowly, my left leg as useless as a dead piece of wood. It was excruciating. And, my right knee was barking like mad compensating for the left one. All of a sudden, my life went from another nice jog on a sunny day to 'What the Hell is happening!?'

Eventually I got home, of course. I called out from work and went to the Tampa Veteran's Administration hospital there in town and some Doc said my knees (both of them) were over-used. I said they couldn't be, I had a nice, reasonable schedule of fitness but nothing crazy. Well, my days giving 110-percent to my Uncle Sam had come back home to roost.

Now came the real issue in recovery: Beyond giving my knees "a rest," as the Doc said, how was I going to be able to trust my knees again not to let me down out there on the road while running or jogging? As a soldier, and before I entered the Army when I was an athlete, I had come to take my knees for granted -- pushing them to do whatever they had to do. Now, though, things were different.

Someone who is healthy and whose parts all work can sometimes feel unbeatable; I did. But, injury creates doubt in the mind of someone with their closest friend -- they're body. A body part gone 'rogue,' as I saw it, was no better than a cheating spouse or a door-to-door used vacuum cleaner salesman. I couldn't trust either the cheating spouse or the salesman as far as I could throw them, so now the same could be said of my knee. Without that trust, how the heck was I going to run on it?

The way the story goes, I never did trust it again and I never ran on the thing. Eventually, my left shoulder injury made itself large and in-charge and I, similarly, stopped trusting it and gave into the injury. The knees giving way happened just a few years after the military, in my late 20s. The shoulder made itself apparent again in my late 30s. Only now, at almost 50, have I decided to deal with these once and for all, up to and including surgery.

I was frightened. I was scared of my own body. I felt like it betrayed me and couldn't be trusted anymore. It had let me down. And, then I let these let-downs become a part of my depression and then I was off to the races: full-time, all-the-time self-pity. I wasn't shy about telling anyone how miserable I was about being all gimpy. I reckon I enjoyed doing that a lot, because I said the same stuff for almost 10 years. Someone can shovel a lot of BS over a decade, and I did.

What I did was allow my injuries to control me. I took that ride to the illogical conclusion of having to give up on my physicality (and that sure as hell doesn't look good in a mirror, folks). It was not a physical obstacle that took me out of this game, it was a mental one -- a psychological one.

In my day-to-day life, people who know me would tell you I have big trust issues, just like a lot of people do. But, what does it say when someone does not even trust their own body not to perform, so they just stop an activity altogether. I know I am not the only one who has done that.

So where is the advice here? OK, here it is: Go to the doctor, get treated in whatever way competent medical doctors come up with, do what you are told during recovery....but then it's back to Charlie Mike and get our ass out of bed again to fight for what is yours -- your body.

No, I didn't fight for mine. I took counsel in my fears; and you know what that got me? Nothing. A size 44 waist and a body weight I do not feel comfortable sharing with the world. The price for not getting back in the saddle after an injury is becoming someone you might not have envisioned yourself to become.

I'm not saying this is an easy thing, to hop back up on the horse again. But, it is really the only thing. Of course, always clear your work-out regime with your doctor first, but at some point it comes to getting your ass going and not fretting anymore about what's going to work or not. Not everything in life is going to be easy.

I see people who have overcome horrible injuries all the time, doing well and being an example of what can happen if hard work is combined with determination. Sadly, I was not among those people in earlier years. Though I may not be a young buck anymore, I have decided to do as best as I can today to get back into shape. Sure, maybe I missed the train when I was a young man, but I just caught the late shuttle is all. It is never too late to try in this life until you're taking a dirt nap. And, that is the truth.

Work with medical professionals, though. Do not try to do anything alone where it involves an injury. Trying to be one's own doctor is insane: Don't do it. Go to a doctor, do what they recommend and get through whatever you have to because if you ignore your body -- well, your body won't go away but there sure as hell will be a lot more of it.

Have a happy new year everyone. All the best.