Music: the Lifeblood of the Universe

One of the greatest passions and loves in my life is music, I think that Nietzsche said best when he said "Without music, life would be a mistake." I agree completely. To me it is the lifeblood of the universe. I am envy of those that are able to write and perform music, unfortunately those are skills that I just don't quite have. Music can be so utterly personal and even intimate. There are fewer things that I can think of that gets one closer to the divine then music. To me it has a way of saying things that I would be unable to express. I use music like bookmarks in life. I will attach a song with either a person or event in my life and will reflect on that each time that I hear it. Much like looking at a photograph. That is something that I have always been thankful for, the ability to just listen to music and escape into it. I know that I am not the only person that does this, and I think that is one of the beautiful things that music allows us to do. The song writer(s) who wrote the song may have a very specific reason for the music & lyrics and then someone else listens and places a whole new meaning to the song. I can easily say that I have list of songs that I have attributed to people or events in my life both major and minor. I can't think of many of those I call friends that doesn't have a "theme" song I have given them. For me it helps maintain a connection that transcends both distant and in some cases the boundaries of death. So for me there are times where music stops being just entertainment and moves in the spiritual.

2,876 Days

It is sometimes crazy to think that I am coming close to eight years of sobriety. I try not to think to much on the sobriety that I might have and focus only on the time that I do have. I have it heard it several times and I know that it is very true that with my sobriety that I only have this moment. I have no guarantee on any future sobriety. I digress. There are times where it seems as though it was just yesterday that I was out there drinking. I would be lying if I didn't say that there wasn't parts of it that I miss. I can close my eyes and I can remember the weight and feel of a drink. I remember the smell as clearly as if it was in front of me. The first taste, the warm that spreads from it, my body relaxing, knowing that soon I will be blacked out. That was the point for me, the point was to black out. Once I was there I could live and not remember. I was a slave to that feeling of oblivion. It is knowing that I was slave and even a sip could send me back to it is enough for me not to want to take another one. I have to remind me of that fact daily. It is a constant for me. It is sometimes an easy thing and sometimes it is harder. Like right now I know it is heading for a tough spot. Feb. 25th is the anniversary of my dad's death. He passed in 2011 and this time of year is always hard on my sobriety. He was a huge part of my early sobriety. In fact he is the reason that I got sober when I did. I may have found my way in the rooms of AA without him, but God only knows how long that would have taken, He got sober when I was still young and was a good example of how to live without drinking. He was the rock that I first built my sobriety on. I had three years when he pasted and at first I thought it would be a horrible thing to do if I ran out and drank because he died. I know that is the last thing that he would have wanted me to do. So I didn't. I might have not drank, but I wasn't doing what I needed to. Slowly the hurt and anger I felt poisoned me. I was not drinking, but I was headed down the same path as if I would have drank. In a way I think that I needed to do it that way. Last April life had finally beaten me completely down, and I finally got to the point that I was willing to do anything to make things better. I finally realized that I needed to change or I was going to go out drink and likely do so until I was dead. I know to death for me and I was either going to drink or get my shit together. So, I got it together enough to go to a meeting and was utterly honest for the first time ever. I was too scared before to be this honest, but I was past being scared. I was desperate not to drink and said as much. That day was a true turning point for me. I finally found what I was missing in my life. Getting honest in that meeting allowed me to get honest with myself. I found an honest program that day and it saved my life. Things have been better ever since. I am not longer trying to deal with my addiction alone. I have a support net that is there for me, and it has made all the difference. It's funny to me, I grew up in and around AA since I was a small kid and only now am I truly starting to understand it. I know that to those who do not have an addiction problem it is hard to understand what it is like and why I go to several meeting a week. The best I can do to explain it is with something my dad use to say. 

Imagine that instead of people, everyone is a cucumber. With alcoholics we have been pickled. Once changed no matter how much a pickle wants to be a cucumber again, they cannot go back. 

So for this pickle when I go to a meeting I get to spend time with other pickles. I am no longer different, but just one more in the jar. I can not truly explain what it feels like to be in a room of people that thing and feel the way you do. I feel normal, and for me that is huge. I use to have to drink to get that feeling of being normal. I am grateful for the life that I have now. The road I have traveled might have not always been the best, but now that I have experienced perhaps I can share it with another pickle so that don't have to. 

Sept. 11th, 2001

I never understood growing up the importance several of my teachers tried to impart on us, students, on asking our parents and/or grandparents where they were when they heard that President Kennedy had been shot. That was until nine years ago today. Until then I had never experienced a singular event in my life that not only affected me, but the entire country and even the whole world. Please don’t misunderstand me, I am not trying to compare the life of a single person, no matter who they are, to those who lost their lives that day or countless lives that were forever changed because of that day. My point is until then I never felt more connected to humanity than merely just another faceless person in the masses. Even though I know that he doesn’t understand now and most likely will not understand for many more years, it is important to me to tell my son where I was, what I remember, and what I felt. I want him to know the impact it had and still has on my life, even though I hope he will never have to truly understand the effects of such an unspeakable event.

What I remember of September 11, 2001.

I remember going to work that morning, I was working at Cessna and as I was climbing out of the forward cabin where I was working for break when one of my co-workers told me that “They had bombed the mall.” I was confused and did understand what he was saying and when I asked which mall, thinking here in Wichita, he told me the National Mall. That scared me to think that somebody would bomb the National Mall. That is when I saw a group of people standing around the Engineer’s desk and the look of shock and horror on their face. I made my way to the group and saw that they were watching news online, and that was when I saw for the first time the first plane crashing in the World Trade Tower and then the second one crashing. The video was set on a loop and it is something I don’t think I will ever forget. I was then told about the plane at the Pentagon, and realized this is what my co-worker was talking about when he said the National Mall had been bombed. Shortly afterwards I found out about the fourth plane and could do nothing but watch the news. I also remember seeing a radar image of U.S. air space and except for one plane was empty.

There was little work if any that was done after that. Everyone was more concerned on getting in touch with their family. I got a hold of my girlfriend and made sure that her and her family was ok, then got in touch with my mom and made sure that the rest of the family was ok. When I got home that night there was the gas shortage scare so my girlfriend and I spent 2 hours in line at a gas station to fill up our car. We spent the time listening to the news on the radio and calling family and friends on the cell phone. After that we went home and spent the evening sitting on the couch watching more of the news coverage. I remember going to bed that night thanking God that everyone I loved was safe and had somebody to hold. It took days for the feelings of confusion and fear to dissipate. The anger of this act took a much longer time.

That is what I remember. I know that it is nothing that will ever make it into the history books, but it is my own personal history. I also know that my words could never convey what I felt. I can truthfully say that I can count one hand the number of days that I remember as well as this one. It is a moment in time that I will forever remember, and I will do my part to make sure that it is a day that will never be forgotten.

Moving Sucks!

Sunday was horrible and I would like to blame Steve for it. There is a reason why moving ranks #2 on the list of 'Things I Really Hate To Do,' and that reason is mainly because I am lazy and out of shape. Another reason is that it never goes as planned. Never. I once help my mom pull out the couch so she could clean behind it, and it turned into a hour ordeal moving this and that for just a second. I digress, I asked Steve about a week ago to help me win a chili cook off at work with his awesome chili recipe. He did, and I won, it was glorious. In return for helping me he asked if I could help him move something this past Sunday. My gut instinct was to say no, but he is my Steve, and he did help me win the chili cook off, so I said ok. He said he needed help getting a fold out bed and I was thinking a futon, turns out it was a hideabed. That's fine; it's all good we can get this taken care of. So we take his sister's truck to go get the thing, it is at his cousin's ex-fiancé’s parents house, and apparently the break-up was not a good one. So we get there and it is so totally awkward. The just pretty much stare at us. The couch is down stairs and we go down there and this thing is huge. So Steve and I get to work and it takes us 30-45 minutes to get the thing up the stairs. I get pinned against the wall at one point and Steve stabs his finger on a staple, and I quote; "All the way into the meat!" So we finally get it up the stairs and out the door making our way to the truck. I couldn't take anymore and made Steve take a break. At this point the ex's dad is asking Steve how he is doing. The guy is an EMT and is getting worried about him. Steve asks for some water and the guy gives him the hose and turns it on. So here is Steve drinking from the hose trying not to pass out and the guy's wife comes out to see if Steve needs a glass and the guy says; "We are men and men drink from the hose." I think that he didn't want Steve in his house if he was going to have a heart attack or something. At this point the dad and the ex help us lift the couch into the truck and we leave. By the time we get back to Steve's it has been a couple of hours and we are good to go to unload this thing. We do and it is not that far to go to get it into his basement, there are cellar doors that go right into the room he wants it. Thing is, it wouldn't fit through the doors of his basement room. Then after taking some measurements we realize it will not fit down the stairs either, so the whole thing was a bust. We end up loading it back onto the truck and leaving it at his sister's house. Steve said she could have it, but would have to unload it herself. All that wasted effort for nothing, it would have been so cool to have it in the Man-Cave, but I guess it was not meant to be.

First Day of Fall

So yesterday was the first day of Fall and it was amazing here in Kansas. It was so beautiful, it was nice and cool with just the hint of the colder weather Fall will bring. While I was walking into work I got the great idea of taking the family to the park that night. So at lunch I called up the wife and we made the plans. I get home and Willson is all ready to got the park and play. He was so excited when we pulled up and took off like a shot when he got out of the car. We had a ton of fun on the swings and then he went down the slide by himself for the first time. I was so proud of him, he was so scared of the slide the last time we went. Everything was going great until it was time to go home, after he realized what was happening he had a total melt down. He was mad, he fought and fought as we tried to get him into his car seat. By the end of it all he was such a sad little sight. He had little tear stained checks and was looking out the window at the so sadly. I thought it was really cute, and wished I had thought to bring the camera. Take time I will.

Being Sick Sucks

I know that my title is an understatement and is very obvious, but it is true. I was sick with the flu from last Friday until yesterday. It was horrible, I hate being sick. On top of that I also have an ear infection. Feeling tons better now though. Took a couple of days off and got myself good and healthy.

My boy and Fried Green Tomatoes

My son is all Reida. I took the wife and kid to my mom's house last night for dinner and he was just acting up the entire time. First he was mad that we wouldn't let him have Grandma's cell phone and had a total melt down. Then he got mad when we wouldn't let him in the kitchen, my mom was showing me how to make fried green tomatoes and it was easier just not to have him underfoot. Finally he calmed down about the horrible atrocities of not getting his way at Grandma's house, and we ate dinner. We had bierocks and fried green tomatoes and it was so good. I am starting to drool just. Dinner went really well and as usual Willson ate a good dinner and then handed me his plate and told me he was done. I got him out of his booster chair and he ran off to play. He finished a little before the rest of us adults and decided he wanted to go outside. So he comes up to Grandma and tells her, "Come on." Then starts to pull on her finger, she asked him what he wanted and he just kept saying the same thing over and over. When she asked if he wanted to go outside he said yes and she told him to wait until she was done. Well Willson being a Reida was not going to wait, so he went and grabbed her shoes and brought them to her and then proceded to put them on her. By this time my mom was tickled pink, thinking this was so cute, and it was. So we finished up dinner and all went outside so Willson could play with his golf set.