Tag: story

A Story About Me

Originally written August 14, 2008. I know you probably think this blog is entirely about me all the time anyway, but this is actually about me. I often look at my life in a big picture way, to make sense of the little things and remind myself that there is a greater plan at work.

My plan.

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Self Reflections, Anyone?

So ends another visit to Louisville, Kentucky.

Although in ending this trip, I feel a sense of disappointment. I accomplished my goals to my satisfaction. Nothing tragic happened. But somehow I anticipated this trip would be different. More special? It was just another trip, and that was fully expected. Fly in, do the job, fly home. Yet the feeling that something was lost is there.

Or maybe not lost, but simply not gained.

I would expect of myself by now that I know how my life is. Things happen or don’t happen. What was I anticipating? There was nothing there and nothing happened.

Why, at this point in my life, do I still feel disappointed when nothing happens?

Part of my realizations in recent years have included this fact: I know nothing will happen unless I make it happen. Nothing risked, nothing gained. Disappointment from other people is a way of life, so why let it get me down? I haven’t allowed that. I’ve accepted this as just the way my life is.

So why this feeling now?

If you’ve read the crap I post here that I attempt to pass off as poetry, you know a basic theme is just what I have stated above; life is what you make of it. If you want something, sitting in your room wallowing on-line to anonymous strangers isn’t going to help you fulfill your dreams.

Unless your dream is to be a whinny, obese hermit with internet access.

My dreams are different and usually a bit more ambitious. What I want out of life has changed over the years, too. I remember a sixth grade project I did on what I wanted my career path to be. We had to research it, what it would take, the education required, job skills needed. My chosen profession? I know this is going to be a shock, but my chosen profession then was to be a pilot. I was going to go to college and join the Navy and become an officer and fly F-14’s, serve my country, do my duty, then move into the private sector and fly 747’s around the world.

I think that started to dissolve as I got older and realized the way the military actually worked, and the fact that I have issues with authority, question everything and am horrible at taking orders not backed by logic. So as I got older I looked in different directions. Technology was the way to go. I started doing application programming in school. Actually I started doing programming in fourth grade before the whole pilot fascination took over, but through high school I took advanced computer courses. Optional and not as popular in 1986 as they are today. My professor entered me and two classmates into a state-wide competition (Running of the Nerds, I called it) for analytical programming. I believe we placed in 2nd.

My goal was to learn, and get a good job with a company like Hewlett-Packard. Build a career, settle into life, make good money, etc..etc..

I got into college and discovered one of the requisites for a Computer Science degree was to maintain a 3.5 or better in core courses… including... calculus.

My first calculus class showed me this wasn’t going to happen. On my first exam, I scored a 12.

Out of 100.

A 12.

The curve, it didn’t even bring me up to an F-minus.

I was undeterred, and discovered psychology.

I loved it. Helping people. I was going to make the world a better place one frazzled brain at a time. One affected personality at a time. One straight jacketed psychopath at a time! But you kind of need a PhD to go anywhere with psychology, unless you want to be a social worker slogging in paperwork every day making just above minimum wage. Well, I hated school and... and... uh...

...randomness time. The woman sitting across the isle from me on this plane used to be a man. Maybe she... or... he... still is. But, wow... man hands and an adam’s apple Clint Eastwood would be jealous of. Why is this so distracting?

Anyway, I took my psychology degree and remained in my crappy, minimum wage customer service job until an opportunity presented itself. An opportunity, in technology. Doing sales for a national technology distributor. It was the mid-90s and technology was booming. The company was hiring people, 15 per month, just to staff their sales force to handle the volume.

A good job, but man let me tell you, it was not fulfilling.

I wanted to impact the world, not talk on the phone 10 hours a day. I wanted to change my community, not wear out a mouse pad every month. I wanted make a difference, not chase numbers.

I started my own business. Well, there were some big steps here and there in between but to cut to the chase, I started my own business.

And it has been doing well. For six years I have grown my business. Now part of it has me on airplanes traveling the world.

Funny how that comes full circle.

But this is more than just a business to me. It is my chance to impact the world. My chance to change my community. My chance to make a difference.

Everyone has their motives and their motion. Dena has her charitable organization helping the underprivileged in New Orleans – that’s awesome! She loves what she does and I have done what little I can to support her. Many people owe know have.

I want to make a difference, just like she does.

The paths are different, but the end goal I believe is very much the same.

My employees often seem genuinely appreciative of the jobs they have. My techs have commented they’ve never made as much money as they’re making now. Sarah works for me and I feel so much pride and happiness when she comments that she enjoys her job, and feels she is learning new things and feels a commitment towards the same company goals I have.

That is one of the main purposes of this company: to put people to work in better jobs, and in a better environment. A different corporate environment. One that gives them freedom and autonomy over their jobs. One that pays them better, offers better benefits, flexibility, more time with family and more satisfaction in life in general.

I want to grow the business, at a bare minimum to leave something strong behind for my children. Something they can take charge of as they get older and build a livelihood from. Something they can retire from and support their children with.

I’m trying to make a difference. In an old steel-city that has seen it’s economy play the wallowing hermit, complaining to the anonymous people around it and unable to help itself. My goal is to be the company that makes a difference here. To help the people and the community pull themselves up by their own bootstraps and change their future.

As Abraham Lincoln once said, “The nice thing about the future is it only comes at you a day at a time.”

I take this a day at a time.

My whole life right now, I can only take a day at a time.

After all, how can I change an entire city if I can't even change myself each day? How can improve the fortunes of others if I can't even change the direction of my own life?

Some people, people very close to me, I’ve confided in them my dreams and you know what their response was?

“You’re crazy.”

“One person can’t make a difference.”

“It’s impossible.”

It’s overly ambitious, right?

If I fail, I’ll let them say “I told you so.”

But you don’t know if you can succeed unless you try. What is the worst that can happen? I fail and end up as one of the wallowing, anonymous hermits; faceless and forgotten?

Exactly where I would be if I didn’t try at all.

Hence my stance: Don’t just do as you’re told. Try to do the impossible.

Why live an ordinary life? You get one shot at this thing – one life. One opportunity. I can’t face a life where society dictates what I can and can’t do. Social norms and religious dogma feel like prison bars only designed to keep people from reaching their potential.

From getting the most out of life.

I want more than that.

I want to live, and create hope. Create it in my own... particular...

...”Idiom, sir?”

IDIOM!

Maybe that is what I was missing from this trip. The feeling that I have created hope. If not for those around me, but at least for myself. Maybe I failed in doing that this week.

I won’t know for sure, but I know tomorrow when I wake up the future will grant me another day for me to try and do the impossible.

Which Direction Do I Go?

February 8, 2008.

Thoughts as true tonight as they were back then...

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It's ok. It really is.

Seriously. I should be used to this.

If I didn't care, I wouldn't ask. But I asked, because... well... I care.

Things always seem to end up like this though.

...so... should I stop caring or just stop asking?

Hey Nineteen

Originally written December 5, 2007. Pondering life on the road...

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...sitting here listening to "Hey Nineteen" by Steely Dan, and thinking about... things...

Mainly I'm thinking about going down to the hotel bar and drinking until I can only manage to crawl back to my room.

"She thinks I'm crazy, but I'm just growing old... Hey Nineteen"

Something about that line just means more to me today than it did years ago.

Cuervo Gold sounds like a good idea though. Might be the only way tonight becomes a wonderful thing.

Life is a funny thing. I just commented to someone about how life is odd. Not just odd feeling, but odd in it's entirety.

Existential moment coming... brace yourself.

...for a planet to be in just the right spot in relation to a star just the right size and to have just the right chemical makeup to create and foster the evolution of life.

Well, life as we know it.

...odd.

...unusual.

...rare.

Seven other planets in our solar system never had a chance.

Yes, life is strange and no one survives it.

So we spend so much time in this life worrying. Worrying about our future. Worrying about the things that lie ahead. Worrying if we're doing the right thing. Worrying about... so many things.

Why?

Is that all we have, as living beings? As human beings?

Is that what this life all about?

To steal an idea; no one knows what life is about, but whatever it is, it's our job to help each other through it.

To add to that idea; a person has to want to help them self through it first, before anyone else can offer any effective help.

People need to be responsible for themselves. For their own actions. Actions that shape their own lives first. Actions that determine who a person is and how they live, and where they're going in this life. If a person can truly accept that fact, then along that path, like a marathon runner, people will extend their hands and hopefully will offer the cup of Gatorade a person so desperately needs at the times it is needed most.

But if you're running with your eyes closed, metaphorically speaking, you're going to miss the cup....

It is up to you.

Always has been.

No one can shape your life more than you can, and already have.

The great thing about life, whatever this life is, it's never too late to reshape it. It's never too late to run down a different path.

And if you do it with an open heart and love for yourself first, there will always be someone to hand you some Gatorade.

The Chronicles of Etch

Originally from August 31, 2007:

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I am always trying to help out my friends.

For example, out at a bar tonight....

Random Girl: Oh, my back is so sore, I have so many knots that need to be worked out...

Etch: (quickly rubbing her back) I can work out all your knots, baby.

Me: Yeah, if you have your tubes tied, he can probably work out those knots too...

Best. Wing-Man. Ever.

The Random Me

Originally written March 14,2008.

One of those contemplative moments...

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Random things about me...

One of my biggest fears is the fear that I will accidentally drop my cell phone in a toilet.

I also fear, when I am around high places with open spaces, like an atrium of an Embassy Suites, that I will be overcome by the desire to throw myself over the railing.

Yeah, I have some issues.

Don’t sneer, you probably do to.

One of my biggest issues is the way some people act toward me when I’m on the road, working for THEM.

I get a lot of the Camilla Capybara treatment…

“I’m bigger than you, I’m stronger than you and I’m smarter than you. So there.”

If you don’t know the book “Wodney Wat” this is a metaphor you probably don’t exactly get. Hey, I read to my kids and know their books. Sue me.

But the meaning is, I deal with these people who put on an air of superiority for no real reason except to try an intimidate you. Yes, you might know a LOT more about database administration than I do or Cisco Light AP Wireless Controllers or whatever. I really don’t care. Especially if I’m working on YOUR behalf, to help make a million-dollar-plus project YOUR hospital purchased run smoothly. If you’re not going to work at facilitating my job, then Wodney says go west.

And if you’re so damn good at what you do, then go start your own business. You can probably make more money than what the hospital you’re working for will pay you.

No? I didn’t think so. Shut up.

I’m also getting annoyed with vendor reps who immediately act like I’m there to screw up all their hard work, and I won’t be satisfied until the project is a complete failure.

Newsflash: I have my own reputation and business image to uphold. If I want to drive away all my customers and not be able to earn a living, I’ll go about my job carelessly, haphazardly, unprofessionally and then go drink all night.

Fortunately for you I like to be able to pay my bills, employ my employees, feed my kids, keep a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs. Therefore my intent is always to do the best damn job I can. Give me a break, don’t treat me like you’re the only professional in the room and stop starring over my shoulder all goddam day. It’s handled. Whatever the situation, it’s handled. The panic button can stay in your briefcase for once.

*Ahem*

Needed to rant… sorry.

That brings me to the point of… expectations.

There are a lot of them out there. People expect a lot from me. I’m a pretty darn good multitasker but I can only handle satisfying a certain number of expectations at one time. I do my best to hit them all, but sometimes, much to my own chagrin, I fall short.

I’m human.

I’m not perfect.

I never claimed I was.

And the number one prioritized expectation in my life is, my own of myself.

Yes, I am my own worst critic. If anyone on this Earth has unreasonable expectations for me to uphold, it is me. I know this might sound hypocritical considering I just said “give me a break,” but I refuse to give myself a break.

Why?

The reasons are many. The only one that really matters though is contained inside my own heart. It is mine, it always will be. I’m consciously aware of it. It’s not an issue psychotherapy can fix, nor do I want it to be fixed. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t there but most days I draw strength from it.

It’s not going away. This is who I am.

I will most likely die trying to live up to this expectation of myself.

I’m ok with that. I’m ok with me.

Life… is good.

That is the way I see it. I can’t help those who disagree.

Oh… and I do hear some murmurings from the back… what? What is my expectation of other people?

Simple.

I don’t expect anything from anyone that I wouldn’t be willing to do for them.

That is all.

Cover Your Clam!

After a nice dinner and flirting with our waitress, she suggested we go to “Louie’s” because that is where everyone from work goes after work. We took that suggestion as a hint, but found it to not be the case. The bar was empty when we walked in. We checked out the main floor, the top floor, and found no one. But we noticed some people coming in and out to use the restroom via a door on the far side of the dining room.

What we found beyond that door was… interesting. To say the least.

We found Kimberly. A very attractive 20’ish young woman who was whooping it up with her friends one last time before… before the big day!

Wedding? No.

Military deployment? No, no.

No, as she told the entire bar many, many times over in a very loud, slurring voice during the next couple of hours that we got to know her, she was heading in for breast augmentation surgery the next morning. Under doctor’s orders, she could drink until 11:30, but after that she couldn’t have anything. So she was taking in as much as she could.

You Call Yourself a Technician?

Written May 20, 2008

A conversation between me and one of my technicians while deployed on a job.

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While walking through 4TH Street Live in Louisville last week...

J: "Ever eat at a Cold Stone Creamery?"

Me: "No..."

J: "Oh, it's awesome. They have this stone that is chilled to like, -40 degrees, and they pour cream right on it and it freezes instantly!"

Me: "Negative 40 degrees, eh?"

J: "Yeah!"

Me: "Is that in Celsius or Fahrenheit?"

J: "Uh... Fahrenheit I guess. Why, are they European?"

Me: "..."

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Oh boy....

And if you don't get the joke, tell me and I'll explain it...

Strangers Will Sometimes Be Brutally Honest

Originally written July 29, 2007

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So We Just Landed in Charlotte and everyone is standing up gathering their things. The older lady sitting next to me on the flight motioned my attention towards a woman across the aisle.

Lady: "Doesn't she look like that actress from Titanic? What's her name? Kate Winslet?"

Me: "No, not really. Kate Winslet has much larger boobs."

If you were soliciting my opinion, you got it.

TSA Follies

Originally written September 9, 2006.

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Finally home. For a couple days. This last week was insane. INSANE.

Man, TSA doesn't hire the brightest and the best, do they? Case in point: I had a TSA agent call for a bag check on my carry on. Now, these new rules you can't have any liquids, gels, creams... anything. So that eliminates most of your consumable toiletries. With the exception of solid-stick deodorant.

Well, I had a TSA agent trying to make an exception for that one too. Pulling out my deodorant and giving it a thorough inspection... oh, if someone could have seen this one...

TSA Ditz: (sniffing the open deodorant) "Is this a liquid?"

Me: "Umm.. is it pouring out of it's container?"

TSA Ditz: "But it could be a gel."

Me: "You just stuck your finger in it, does it feel like a gel?"

TSA Ditz: "Not really..." (calling to her supervisor) "Hey, is this a liquid or a gel?"

Supervisor: "No, it's deodorant."

TSA Ditz: "Ok, I guess this is safe..."

Me: "Sure, for the plane. It'll never touch my body again, thanks to you."

All this time, she completely ignored the tube of toothpaste sitting RIGHT NEXT TO the deodorant in my bag....

*sigh*

Oh yeah, I feel so much safer flying now...

Buh-Byes

Originally written on July 5, 2007

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So the pilots and attendants were standing near the door of the plane saying their "buh-byes" to everyone as they got off the plane.

I slept the entire flight, Chicago to Oklahoma, so I exited the plane in a haze just trying to get my bearings.

The pilot looked at me and asked, "So did you have a good flight?"

I said, "You didn't hit the ground or anything attached to it. So yeah, it wasn't bad."

Gah... don't ask me questions when I'm trying to wake up!