I saw a vet today. A Vietnam era vet. He was having to use a motorized cart. I came up behind him and he dropped his cane off the cart. I was too far away to help. I heard him sigh in exasperation and he picked it back up. I could tell it pained him to do so. It saddened me to see such a sight. Here we have a person who risked his life, for an ungrateful country, gaining years and not as spry as he once was. I could tell he felt like shit because of his inability to walk.
    I did what everyone else seems to do and just let it be… but I continued to see the image in my mind’s eye. Around the corner, I was putting away some vegetables and I heard something drop. I turned to see this man trying to grab a pot pie that dropped. It landed in front  of him and slid across the floor. I picked it up and handed it to him.
    I pay a lot of attention to my surroundings, and one of the big things is looking people in the eyes. As I handed it to him, I noticed tears. He accepted the help graciously, but I could see that it hurt him to do so. We could all use a bit of humbling from time to time… but this was too much. He made a “joke” about the eyes going first, then everything else, but what I heard was, “I didn’t used to be this way. I was once young, strong, and almost unstoppable.”
    How quickly our youth goes huh? One day we’re climbing trees, jumping from great heights, and the next we’re in an electric cart trying in vain to pick something we’ve dropped up off the floor.
He thanked me and went on his way as I told him, “No problem.” And I was left thinking… One day this will be me. A mere shadow of what I once was. Not able to do the things I once could. Possibly relying on help from strangers just to get through my day.” Then I started thinking. I believe in karma. And I believe that at times, we can become karma incarnate. Today I got to be a good part of the karma for a man who has done noble deeds in life… and for that I am thankful. I only pray that one day I deserve good treatment like that.
    He went on his way and I went back into the freezer at work and cried my eyes out. It was too much emotion for me to contain. Many good people are looked down upon and treated like crap because they aren’t as mobile as the rest of us. That’s no way to treat people!! Treat them with the same respect that you would treat your mother or father. I mean hell… they have been through more than you most likely… and if not… who cares… they’re human beings, and everybody needs a kind word and deed in life.

Hey everyone. It’s been awhile since I posted. I’ve been going through a lot lately. Just before the lacrosse season ended, I was told that my ex wife was looking for job opportunities in Australia… and my 8 year old son wanted to go. I knew two things in that moment. I could say no, and hold it up in court for 10 years, or I could allow it to happen.
  I ran these options through my head for weeks. I talked with my ex, her parents, (whom i love dearly) and my son. I know it will kill me to be that far away from him, but can I really deny him this opportunity? In the end, the answer is that I cannot deny him. He has an opportunity to see a part of the world that I have always wanted to see. And he has a chance to experience the world.
  They will be gone for two years. Then, after they return, she will be looking for work in Ireland. I have looked into the possibility of moving there to be close to my son (as my older son was actually my stepson, and he is moving far away with his real dad) but, without a degree… Most other countries won’t let you in for more than a visit. On a travel/vacation visit, it is illegal to work or earn money. So I guess that plan is out of the window… for now.
    Then, my best friend, who’s car I have been borrowing, since i can’t afford my own, decided that he needs it back because his other car is broken down. I can’t be too upset… it is his car after all. But now I’m kind of in a lurch. He still drives me to work, but I hop the bus to his house in the mornings. So instead of leaving at seven a.m. I leave at 10 to six. I get to his house, and we ride to work at about 8:30. Then on the way home, he drops me off at a trolly station, and I hop on that and get home.
    So now, I’m facing life without the option to see my kids whenever I want. (A tough thing for a father that is very active in his children’s lives. Hell, the day I broke my leg, I still drove to pick them up for the weekend…. 6 hours after breaking it.)  I have no more vehicle. (Although, if the ladies ask, I got rid of the car to be more green. 😉 lol)
…. I have let this writing sit for about a week now. In that time, I have had a lot of time to think. I had forgotten what it was like to slow down, take a walk, and just appreciate your surroundings. The first thing that happened was, I needed to get somewhere that the buses don’t travel. I thought about how I was going to accomplish this feat. I’ve had a vehicle for so long that I had almost forgotten how to get around without it. I had to go get a money order to pay rent. The closest place for me to do that, is 4 miles away. I had already been up early, taken my son to school on the bus, gone downtown to pay some taxes for my uncle, (totaling about 4 miles walking already) and made it almost home. “How would you have done this as a teen?” I asked myself. I debated going home and grabbing either my rollerblades or skateboard, which have been sitting unused since I broke my leg in 2010. I decided I would just walk. As teens, we used to walk everywhere. Now we jump in our car and go wherever. I was gone from the house most of the day, but in the end, I had walked 12 miles and accomplished everything I had set out to do. I also got to take my time, and actually enjoy seeing my neighborhood at walking speed, rather than whizzing by at 60mph.
  I have had a few other adventures, but this post is long enough already. I plan to start a series called Adventure Time, discussing the adventures I have while navigating this world with no vehicle… Stay tuned. 😉


There once was a man from San Jose,
Who hoped everything would be ok.
He called the mechanic a jerk,
and pretended to work,
until he could punch out for the day.

  *robot sounds*
::reading fault codes:: 
::prime directive–move forward–do not stop::
::battery power–100%::

  My robotic systems have taken over. I am a living, breathing cyborg. (ok, not really… But for the sake of this post, I am.) Lol
  My prime directive for the gym this morning was to step it up a notch. I left for the gym early. I arrived at 5:15, and proceeded to set up my workout:
Start pedaling, to turn on recumbent bike.
Program? Random hill.
Weight?   I punched it in. (not telling. Lol)
Level?  11
Time? 90 minutes.
  I figured I should drop the level by one if i was going to add another 50 percent of time to my workout. Around the first big hill i started regretting it… It was still really tough… And by adding 30 minutes, I had to spend more time on each section. Lol. I started thinking that I should have put the level lower.
  Fatboy has been quiet the past few days. He doesn’t complain so much, and he’s starting to sound sick. I think Fatboy is dying. But, coming in hot on his coattails is Borgboy.
  Borgboy is like Steve Austin on roids. Healthboy was huffing and puffing, and slowing down when Borgboy came into play. The rpms shot upward of 90 from a measly 50 and my legs, while still burning, just went with it.
  “Your life as it has been, is over. From this time forward, you will service us. I am the beginning, the end, the one who is many.” Was it’s only statement.
  I am being assimilated… And I don’t mind. It is my strength when I am weak. My energy when I have none. Part man, part machine… I will not stop.
  (I am not a trekkie. I did think this was a good analogy however. I am also not schizophrenic. This is just how I process my thoughts. I gather, that as writers, we think differently. We have the ability to put into words, what others can’t. This has always been my thing, and it comes very easy and naturally to me… Unlike math. Although, I realize that just maybe… It’s the Borg collective that processes my thoughts. Lol) 😉
  Have a good day everyone. Thanks for reading. 🙂


  I had decided to take the day off from the gym today, but changed my mind when I woke up. It was a beautiful, dark morning. The birds weren’t even awake yet. The great thing about the gym on Saturdays is that they don’t open until six a.m… So I get to sleep in a bit. I arrived about 10 minutes before they opened and was standing outside with some other early morning health freaks. Here we all were standing there, anticipating our early morning workout at 5:50a.m. on a Saturday, while many people were at home in their cozy beds. You could feel the energy emanating from the group. It was fantastic.
  I have always found something invigorating about working out when it’s usually time to be asleep. When I first started working out originally in 2006, I would rise at four a.m. because I was embarrassed about how I looked, and didn’t want others seeing me. After awhile I started to enjoy the solitude and feeling of doing something healthy at an hour where even most healthy people aren’t awake. In fact, I started to feel a bit smug. Not that I would brag about it, but internally I was getting a bit cocky.
  After a time, I started having to close where I worked, and getting home around 11p.m. was just not going to work for a four a.m. wake up plan. So I started running around 11ish when i got home. I am sitting here this morning, recollecting a specific run of mine late one night.
  It was 11:30p.m. on May 16, 2006. My father had succumbed to terminal brain cancer in February. I was still grieving. I had wanted him to live… Obviously. I thought about him often, as I still do. This was the eve of my birthday. In 45 minutes, I would be 26.
  I stepped out into the crisp evening air. I was exited about my birthday. It’s the one day a year, where it’s all about me. A few cars passed on the lonely, dark streets I was running, but not many.
I checked my watch. 11:40. Only 20 minutes I thought to myself with a smile. I pushed a little harder.
  Watch check, 11:43.  A dog was barking in the distance. And the house I was passing had someone in the kitchen window, doing dishes. She looked up and smiled. I smiled back.
  Watch check, 11:45. “Jeeze,” I thought, “I have too stop checking my watch.”  I saw a homeless man sleeping in the park I was now passing. I rounded the corner to home and was on the final stretch towards home. This was the point where I would usually sprint, and then take a small five minute walk up the street and back for a cool down.
  Watch check, 12:06… I stopped dead in my tracks. It was my birthday. 26 years ago today, my father held me in his arms for the first time. He stopped partying, stopped drugs, and started working harder because of me. It was my birthday. 26 years ago today, I opened my eyes to see my biggest hero in my entire life.
  Standing there in the middle of the road, I realized that it was my birthday. No bells or chimes went off. The stars didn’t magically spell my name. The world was asleep around me. Nothing had changed. Everything was just as it had been five minutes before. I was finishing a run, my wife and kids were still asleep, my father was still dead, and I was still greaving. I sat down upon the curb and covered my face as I broke into tears. The cold concrete soothed my overheated body as I lay back and stared skyward through tear stained eyes. It was my birthday, and today would be the first one that my father didn’t call and sing me happy birthday.
  I finished my crybaby session, and slowly jogged up the street. I went inside and quietly got undressed for a shower. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I realized something. My father wasn’t gone. He was in the mirror staring back at me. He was in my face, my hands, my heart and soul. He would always be with me… even if he couldn’t call and sing to me on my birthday.
  A tear fell from my eye as I stepped into the shower smiling… It was my birthday.

R.I.P.  Harold Wayne “Behr” Rupe
   Taken too soon, I love you poppa bear.


  Good morning everyone. 🙂  I didn’t want to get up this morning. My alarm goes off at four a.m. I get up, shower, and go to the gym. Today however, I slept through my alarm until 4:45. That didn’t stop me though. *pats self on back* lol
  I rushed to get ready, and got started only 15 minutes late. I think I’ve mentioned before how I’m kind of a masochist… So working out is great sometimes. Since I slept late… I had to punish myself. An extra 10 minutes with intervals should do it… Oh… It did. Lol
  So, I use the recumbent bike for my cardio, and I always set it to the middle level of resistance. I also choose a random hill program so its never exactly the same. So if you saw the pic from yesterday, the resistance gets harder the higher the dots on the lower left are, to simulate riding up and down hills.  But unlike real life… You can’t coast downhill. The mileage just won’t go up. (yes, i had to see) Add to that, the machine will shut off, and you better keep your ass pedaling. Lol
  Yesterday, the machine blessed me with one big hill. Not too tough, but a good workout. So this morning, the machine had it out for me. I load up the program, and what do I see?  Apparently, I am going to be biking through the fucking Sierra Nevada mountains!! I look at the amount of hills on this one, and immediately the fat boy in me starts blubbering like a bitch, begging me to take him home.
  “Oh my god!!! Look at these hills!! Let’s just go. This is going to be too hard!!”
   “Why do you hate me so much?!”
  So, I silenced fatty and kept pedaling, and kept pushing, and at 20 minutes into my 60 minute routine… Good ol’ fatty spoke up again.
  “I think I’m dying. My legs hurt, I can’t breathe, and my heart is pumping so fast, I’m afraid its going to stop.”
  I ignored him, and kept plodding on. It was seriously killer on my legs, I won’t lie… But seriously?! If it feels good, you’re doing something wrong. How do we better ourselves? Be reaching our limits, and pushing beyond them. If we quit everything when it started to get tough, we wouldn’t make it very far in this life.
  I have no one to blame for the weight gain but myself. Yes i had a broken leg… But that didn’t mean I had to start eating junk again. I did so because it was easier than standing on one leg and cooking a meal. In short, I got lazy, and blamed it on my leg. Well I’m taking responsibility for it now, and there’s only one thing to do… Lose the weight. So that’s the plan.


I did hit 20 miles, but i like the number 19 so i snapped this shot.


  Well, what good is following my adventure if you can’t see results… But in order to see results, I guess I’m going to have to pussy a pic of myself. I will not post pics of me very often, as the more often you see me, the harder it is to see any weight loss. But i will post them since i have to see myself every day, you guys can let me know if I’m making progress. 🙂
  Well, that’s it for now. Have a great day everyone. 🙂

  The zombie apocalypse has started. Many people didn’t think this was possible, but it has finally happened. Now, I’m not talking about the undead roaming around hungering for human flesh. Instead of feasting on brains, they are feasting on technology.
  I see them shuffling everywhere. Iphones and Androids in their faces. Bumping into people. Wrecking cars. Undead zombies can smell human flesh, but techno zombies can smell a text coming, and rush to feed on the electronic lifes blood emanating from their phone.
  Facebook updates go from being something fun, to a necessity to survive. Techno zombies must let us know that they are having coffee in yet another Starbucks because the free wifi is another chance to feed.
  While alternating current killed Topsy the elephant in 1903, we now hold electronic death within our hands. The world has ceased to exist as we knew it. And we are in the midst of the real zombie apocalypse.
  Beware of these techno zombies. You may become infected too. I am not being down on technology, I just everyone to be aware of the dangers. I do love my phone. Wait…. I just heard my droid….
  *shuffling sounds… groan* “Where… Phone… Glued to hand… Oh no!!” *More groans*
  Motorla… Samsung… Iphone… Apple… Microsoft… Hewlett Packard… Gateway… Intel… Amd… Wifi… 4G… Texting… Social media… “Must feed” *groans and shuffles* “teeeeeccccchhhhh.”

1.  I am extremely shy when it comes to dealing with women.

2.  I can place my palms on the ground without bending my knees.

3.  I have been off of meth for 13 years.

4.  I am a “tough guy” but I have feelings, and they can be hurt.

5.  I suffer from random bouts of extreme depression. (but who doesn’t)

6.  I like walking in the woods.

7.  I have eaten a scorpion.

8.  I don’t like fish, but will eat it because its healthy.

9.  I’m kind of a pack rat.

10. I’m still afraid of the dark.

    So I went to the dentist yesterday.  If you haven’t read the first tooth pain post, you should do so now. I’ll wait… You back? Ok.
    Well… I was right. The wisdom tooth had shifted, and was causing all kinds of pressure. The dentist was a cool young guy, and did a great job removing it. My youngest son laughed at me for being the one in the dentist chair for once.
    The root was totally exposed and the dentist asked how long it had been like that. The look on his face was priceless when I told him about a month and a half. He bitched at me for not doing something sooner, until I explained that I had no money. I had to save up just to go to the dentist. Being that he spent 12 years in college, he was a little more understanding at that point.
    So with a gaping hole in my mouth, and my bank account slightly lighter, I can start planning to have the rest of the dental work done that I need.
    Not much else to say, other than, I can’t wait for it to heal so I can start smooching the ladies again. Lmao j/k Have a great day everyone. 🙂

    What is it about tooth pain, that can turn the toughest guy, into a complete sissy? I come from a family where men don’t show their pain. I was also physically abused to the point that I learned to shut off any massive reaction to pain.
    I have worked through broken fingers, rib injuries, and a cracked tailbone in my time… So why is it that when I get a toothache, I turn into a grumpy, whiny, crybaby? And to top it off, my dumbass doesn’t call the dentist right away.
    “Let’s see if it just goes away.” I think to myself. When the hell does this ever seem like a good idea?! I know my body, and have the ability to analyze pain to the point that I usually know what is wrong. A background in sports injury education doesn’t hurt much. Lol.
    So I’m sitting here, analyzing and struggling not to scream, when I realize its my wisdom tooth. When it came in, it was seated directly beneath my molar. So they pulled my molar and the wisdom tooth grew in. There is a cavity in the molar, but that’s not the pain I’m feeling. The pain is from the shifting of the molar, and its now pushing on my other teeth. The pressure buildup is so bad, that I now have a constant headache that feels like the back of my right eye is being crushed.
    So I call the dentist right? Hell no!! I start effing with the tooth, trying to shift it around and get rid of the pressure. I try to loosen it and hopefully pull it myself. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!
    So this goes on for more than a month. My friends have told me to call the dentist. Hell… Even my seven year old told me to call. “I will” I respond. But do I? Of course not. I figure it will go away on its own, or I’ll finally manage to yank the sucker.
    Needless to say, that didn’t work out. I have called the dentist and am waiting for a call back. I’m hoping to get in on Monday, because I have my son with me then, and I can use it as an opportunity to teach him about why he should take good care of his teeth.
    I guess that’s it for now. I will write another one about my dentist trip and let you know if I am correct about the reasons behind the pressure.
    Thanks for reading. 🙂

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