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There’s much to be said for working two jobs. A little extra cash in your pocket is always a good thing. I’m not spending mindless evenings at home watching CSI. But I have no time for myself. As I write this, I have 2 1/2 hours before my next shift. The pattern of my life lately seems to be: up at 4:30 at work for 5:30; out at 2pm, then rush home to change and maybe grab some nosh before heading to the call center. I’m usually home before 10 and asleep before 11. But there’s a twist to this week. I have 5 shifts with Midnight for an out time.
Are you kidding? That leaves me with less than 4 hours sleep. A PSP3 is not worth it.
I seem to be living on Hot Pockets and sandwiches. I’ll throw in a piece of fruit and some carrots to munch on, but there is a nutritional pattern going on here. I just don’t want to cook.
This is the sixth Christmas I’ve worked for LL Bean. I like working the phones. I get to use my radio voice that’s been long gathering cobwebs. It’s a deep baritone. I use that voice so that I don’t speak too loudly. That is not well received in a call center. I like interacting with the callers. I like to silently make fun of the uptight New Yorkers, who come off sounding rushed and frantic. They talk so fast. I had a caller from New Jersey yesterday, works for Citi Group. He wanted to return a snow tube he’d ordered two days prior, just so he could get the sale price, which was only good for the weekend. His savings totaled $15 bucks, but it wasn’t worth it. I checked his order history and he had spent beaucoup bucks over the past year. Why quibble over $15?
I love talking with the Southerners. They always sound so proper and dignified. Sometimes I’ll make reference to a college football or basketball team, and a reserved demeanor turns quite jovial. And I love listening to the accent. The folks from the west coast have a sterotypical laid-back tone. Every once and awhile I’ll get a call from someone who sounds as if they are calling from a cave. You can hear the TV on in the background, and ithe volume always seems louder because the room sounds empty, and the audio echoes in the room. I often wonder if these callers live alone with cats. I wonder if their living rooms are bare with minimal furniture. I wonder if they are happy to have someone to talk with, if they are alone all day.
There are some that talk my ear off. They get on the phone and shop while they talk with me. I’ve had calls like that that last 45 minutes or more. Those are the calls that have you drumming your fingers on the table, praying for the call to end. The one positive side to those calls is they eat up your day and help make it go by faster.
There are days when my life feels like this, when memories fill your head and you can’t get past them. As much as I try to believe that you can’t change the past, the difficulty lies in if/how you allow the past to affect the present. Even the most clear-thinking person allows themselves to drift back and wonder “what if..”.
You’ve been reading some old letters
You smile and think how much you’ve changed
All the money in the world
Couldn’t bring back those days.
And all your friends and family think that you’re lucky.
But the side of you they’ll never see
Is when you’re left alone with the memories
That hold your life together like glue
– The The “This is the Day”
Uh, oh…here comes another rant. Don’t worry, this one is justified.
I love Christmas music, especially the sacred music that doesn’t get played to death. Some people prefer Handel’s Messiah, others like the Bach Christmas Oratorio. I prefer carols. Especially the ones that have yuletide lore woven into the lyrics. But I have a soft spot in my heart for Johnny Mathis, Nat “KIng” Cole and “A Charlie Brown Christmas”.
Some of the best Christmas traditions come, not from the Christians, but the Pagans or Druids. You have to love the Pagans. They are a randy bunch. Some of the yule traditions from Britain, such as mistletoe and the yule log, often lose their meaning in the modern context. But you also have to love those Christians. Rather than alienate, they incorporated many of those Yuletide traditions in the Christmas season. So, we get the Christmas tree from the Germans, and Saint Nick/Kris Kringle/Santa Claus/Father Christmas fromthe rest of Europe.
A wonderful part of the seasson is the Winter Solstice. Again, those nutty Pagans, tired of the darkness, longed for the warmth and light of the Sun. So they head for the highest hills and light bonfires to help the Sun return. My friend, The Squire, has a great way to celebrate the winter solstice. He has a bonfire on the beach.
How very pagan of him. It is a rocking affair that includes fireworks.
Okay, they’re sparklers, but it’s the same idea. Anything to help bring back the sun is good.
I like the solstice because it adds a little something to the season. Too bad it couldn’t be in late January, when there is NOTHING going on. At least there are folks who leave their lights up through the winter. Seeing those lights helps take the dull edge off winter. Of course, the rednecks keep their lights up all year. They’re always dull so they need something to make them look bright.
I digress….back to the theme.
I know I’m not the only person who thinks this way, but Christmas has gotten way out of control, and further away from the true meaning of the day. Now, especially, with the seasonal music. I would like to take the person, who had the brilliant idea to allow radio stations to, not only play 24/7 Christmas music, but also to begin playing it two weeks BEFORE Thanksgiving, tie them up and subject them to their own tape loop of continuous Christmas music. Whatever happened to the notion of leave ‘em wanting more? I can’t stand wall-to-wall Chirstmas music because you can only do “White Christmas”, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” or “Do You Hear What I Hear” so many ways.
C’mon, folks. It’s like Wally World, displaying Christmas decorations around Halloween. Sometimes, it’s just too much. If you HAVE to have Christmas music all day AND all night, if you can’t live without 15 different versions of each of the Christmas favorites, then here’s a suggestion. Find yourself a CD player that holds 500 CDs, load it up with Christmas music, press “random”, then “play”, and spin yourself into a Yuletide orgasmic stupor.
If you are under the age of 25, you’ve probably heard older adults remember “the good old days”, when it wasn’t about making the most money in the shortes amount of time. The “good old days”, when Santa first appeared the weekend AFTER Thanksgiving at the local shopping center. Not a mall, a shopping center. He could be found in a department store or a little cabin in the parking lot. Some folks have different experiences, but he always showed up the first weekend AFTER Thanksgiving.
Yes, I know he’s in the Macy’s parade, and that’s on Thanksgiving. A minor detail. He first touches down in New York City. It’s where he starts his five week Christmas tour. Duhhhh.
In the “old days”, you never saw a Christmas decoration in public BEFORE Thanksgiving. Not in stores, not on the streets, not in people’s homes. You’d see the city workers in the bucket truck, hanging lights on a huge fir tree or hanging decorations off the light poles. My family put our decorations out when we got our Christmas tree. We always got our tree two weeks BEFORE Christmas, and it came down a couple days after New Year’s.
In the “old days”, Santa was on TV. I grew up in Bangor, and Santa had a daily half-hour locally-produced TV program. The program was on just before the news at 6 PM, and it featured local choral groups, Letters to Santa, and a visit to the North Pole. He could see us on the other side of the screen. It was magic, I swear to God. He would also read off the first names of the good boys and girls. Everyone waited for this part because it was at the end of the show. If he said your name, you were a celebrity at school the next day.
Here’s a message to the Powers That Be who make these decisions regarding Christmas: let us have our holiday back. If they won’t give it up, then we need to take it back.
I’d like to see real spruce and fir trees, from local tree farms, with lights homemade decorations. I’d like us to buy gifts from local merchants, not big box stores. I’d like folks to sing “Happy Birthday” on Christmas morning. It is a birthday celebration, after all.
In these times we are all trying to figure out how to make our dollars stretch. We are also bombarded with TV and print ads, declaring what we SHOULD choose for our loved ones.
They never met my loved ones. How do they know what they want?
Make your own decorations. Light a candle. Celebrate Advent, it that’s your thing.
Take back the season. Let’s get Christmas back to the heart and out of the mall. Make it about love and joy.
I have been a bad boy.
After posting yesterday, I checked my email and discovered a response from My Love. I got the full lowdown on her reasons behind the breakup. We are both at fault, but she is blaming herself.
Yes, one of the issues was money and we both took ownership of that. But she was frustrated about where I was in my life. She has been concerned that I am wasting my natural talents. She was hoping that I could move myself along and go forward in my life. She was hoping that I could get myself out of the rut I was in, but that wasn’t possible. She decided that we break off our relationship rather than become a nag.
Since my divorce, I have been subconsciously ignoring my adult responsiblities and move forward. I have been afraid to do that because I am afraid of success. I use all sorts of excuses: I don’t know what I want, this doesn’t intrest me, I don’t have the money to go back to school. I can easily retort with reasons why I should make life changes. I never have enough money to do what I want, or to cover emergencies. I constantly worry about if there’s enough or if I have to rob Peter to pay Paul. I just need to take a leap of faith and start exploring possiblities.
But it bothers me that I was so cold towards My Love. I have just as much to do with all this as she does. I need to take responsiblity for my stuff.
We exchanged emails last night and have it sorted out. But it makes me wonder where we would be if it weren’t for money issues or career goals. We agreed that we wanted to exchange emails now and again. She still is an important part of my life.
Let’s see where the future will take us.
I’m back. This time, I am walking a bit humbler, but a little bit jaded and stunned. I made a promise to My Love that I would not write about her, and I will keep it.
But I return with a boatload of questions about myself. Some are ones that I cannot answer. That’s why I am going into therapy. The appointment has been made – November 30. As much as this forum has allowed me to do similar work as therapy, I need the feedback and support that you cannot give me.
I will continue to write, but nothing similar to my posts on My Love. At the moment, I wonder how my life will play out over the next year. People keep telling me that it will get better. I heard the same things after my divorce, but I had My Love as a sounding board. That’s why I need therapy; I need the feedback.
SO……..
I’ll be back from time to time. Nothing of the regularity for the last four months, but you never know. I might get on a streak and then you’ll get sick of me.
If you are new to this blog, I invite you to view the archive for past posts. It’s been a wild summer and fall, a regular rollercoaster ride.
Here’s where it all goes down hill.
I have a theory about the post-Halloween weather in the Northeast. Here on the coast, once the candy has been gobbled up and the costumes put away, the weather seems to take a turn for the worst.
Rapidly.
My Daughter’s brithday falls in early November. Ever since she was old enough to have birthday parties, we’ve had Indian Summer-like weather around her birthday, so her parties were always held outdoors. I never thought leaf diving was a traditional party game, but we turned it into one.
But after that glorious splash of warmth, the temperature takes a dive and the chill in the air is more than just chilly. It’s cold, and it’s worse if it rains. Autumn rain is the worst because it is so cold. The sole purpose of an autumn rain is to bring down the remaining leaves on the trees.
This has been a good year for wanderlust. I haven’t acted on the urges yet and I know I should. Considering all the emotional maelstrom I’ve put myself through, you think I would get away more often. That would be a correct assumption. Lately, though, I’ve been questioning this wanderlust.
When does wanderlust and the desire for a change of scenery get misinterpreted for avoiding reality?
There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to get outta Dodge, but I seem to find excuses not to. Is it necessary for my wellbeing to hit the road every so often? Hell, yeah! So…. WHY NOT? Good question, gentle reader. Why do I find reasons NOT to do anything instead of creating solutions to help me achieve my goal?
That’s two questions- both of them valid and complimentary.
I say shit or get off the pot. Just go. Create possibilities instead of building barriers.
Here are some places I’ve thought about:
1. My sister’s in Massachusetts. She and her husband are empty nesters, sort of. My nephew is at the Massachusetts Police Academy. My youngest neice is at school in Fitchburg. Her older sister has two years of college under her belt but, for reasons not yet explained, she opted for coming home and working in her father’s small-town law practice. I haven’t seen for since the end of May, just before My Love and I parted ways.
2. My parent’s house…again. No. Dad and I had an argument about my financial situation. He is afraid I’m going to fall through the cracks. For years he’s been pushing the real estate game on me, put I’m not playing. Things need to cool down before I drop in again.
3. No place in particular. It’s always a good third option. I’ve thought about driving to Boston, Quebec City, and New York City. I’ve thought about pulling out the ol’ Rand McNally, close my eyes and drop the finger at random. Where the finger goes, the rest of me shall follow.
Would somebody give a good shove to get me started?
I am feeling MUCH better today. I could’ve slept a few hours more than I did, but there’s this thing called work. You have to do it to earn money. You then take that money and buy things and pay bills, not necessarily in that order. Therefore, the time change tonight is a welcome thing. We all dread spring and the time change forward. Yeah, I love the sunshine but I could really use that hour of sleep.
My Daughter and I never made it to the hockey game and we didn’t get to carve pumpkins. She got a call from her work. Three guys called out and there was a huge restock coming in, and would she come in to work. She really wanted to spend time with me, so she worked out a compromise. We had enough time to put a stirfry together and just hang out in the kitchen. As for the hockey tickets, I gave them to My Son and his girlfriend.
I have finished CS training for L.L. Bean and will start shift work tonight. I’ll have enough time to rush home from the warehouse, change and clean up, and off to work. This is how it will be for the next 8-10 weeks. Good thing it’s fun work or I would dread it.
Exciting, huh?
whaddayah want for nothing? Rrrrrrrrrrrubber biscuits?
Bow bow, oooooh ooh.
Look up.
I constantly remind myself to stop and look up. We all miss a lot of good stuff by staying at ground level. All the interesting stuff is up there above the ground. We can see things that are long missing from modern buildings.
Yesterday was a gorgeous day for a walk. It was cool, but not cold, and the sun was out a good portion of the day. It was a perfect day to leave the house and explore, a perfect day to breathe deeply and look around.
My town is a great town to walk. It’s an old seaport that still functions (barely) as a working waterfront, but has become more trendy. Like most seaports, there are a lot of interesting buildings. Lots of brick, but some with stone facades. There are modern skyscrapers built within the last twenty years. Can refer to a building as a skyscraper if it’s twenty floors orless? The best walking is in a section of town called the Old Port. There are cobblestone streets and brick sidewalks. The buildings in the Old Port once housed merchants’ shops and warehouses. Now, it is the biggest tourist attraction in town. There are plenty of places to shop or get a coffee. There are harbor tours and ferries to the outer islands in the bay. If you’re hungry, there are restaurants serving everything from pizza to seafood. Our cruise boat season came to a close yesterday, and it was estimated that each passenger contributed between $50 – $100 to our economy. Lots of people like to spend time in the Old Port.
I was walking downtown about 4-5 months ago and I happened to look up to study a building on Congress St. There are some interesting buildings there, but I know nothing about architecture. I only know what is pleasing to my eye. My friend The Squire is a huge fan of Portland architecture. He would make a great tourguide.
I’m standing across the street from this particular buiding, and I notice that it has an art deco facade. I didn’t think there were any examples of art deco in my town, which is why I had never noticed this building before. I remember The Squire mentioning it at some point during a visit.
I stood there, contemplating this building, and noticed that the facade had wonderful, organic lines just below the peak of the roof. These lines resembled a vine wandering aimlessly across the building. My curiosity peaked, I looked on either side to find more fascinating architectural characteristics on neighboring buildings. I wondered why I had never noticed these building before. What was preventing me from noticing these very cool things?
I never took the time to look up. My gaze was never lifted above the second floor. But how tragic would it have been if, after living here for over twenty years, I had never stopped to take the time and study these buildings. Ever since that day, if I happen to be walking downtown, I will take time to stop and look up. It makes me smile when I notice something new and unique that makes that structure worth studying.
We should all be looking skyward. We should all be looking for inspiration above the second floor. Our sights need to be raised above what we know, to give us a different perspective.
Look up. The stuff on the ground – we’ve all seen it before. The stuff up high – it’s all new.
I have made it a point not to rant here. I know I have stated some opinions from time to time, but haven’t gone off full blown. Today, however, may be the first time I do.
I hate my car. I hate the fact it costs too damn much to fix. I hate the fact that I have nowhere I can go, other than The Squire’s estate, where I can work on my car. I hate that I am now dependant on my car to get to work, rather than walking. And I especially hate the fact I have to borrow money to get my car fixed.
Yesterday, I called out so that I could repair the bearing on the left rear wheel. I borrowed a Dremel from The Squire so I could make the cuts. But after wrestling with the wheel, starting and stopping due to the rain (remember: I am working on my car in the parking lot of my building), and having to bike back and forth to NAPA, I came to the conclusion that I am not the right man for the job.
I have put too much time and energy into this vehicle over the past few months, and all it does is frustrate me. But here is the question: is it the car that frustrates me or that my paycheck doesn’t give me the financial freedom so that I don’t worry about things like that? I think maybe a vocational change may be in order. I don’t know what, but I need to think long and hard about it.
Anyway, the Jetta goes in the shop Saturday morning. I’ll have AAA tow it down there Friday night. Maybe after this my luck will change.
Don’t hold your breath.
Possibilities
Yesterday, I attended a 4-hour workshop on “Bringing The Best Out of People”. I was one of two employees that didn’t have managerial experience. But what I came away with was some extraordinary insight. The highlight of the workshop was a short video featuring Ben Zander, a conductor, educator and composer. He also is the co-author of “The Art of Possibility”, which I am eager to find a copy.
What I took from that video was the most amazing sense of possibility, that life is about experiencing everything with passion. We should all be curious about what is out there, to grab onto it and look at the world with a child’s eye, full of wonder. When I was with My Love, she introduced me to similar ideas. But what go in the way, at the time, was a lack of money to do things. I now realize that it isn’t about money, it’s about taking what you have and savour it.
I did two things yesterday that proved to be worthwhile experiences.
The first happened at McDonald’s. A young woman entered the restaurant at the same time as I did. Approaching the counter, I gestured that she should go first. After she ordered, she moved to the side and waited for her order to come up, while I placed my order. As we both waited, I was struck by the stockings she was wearing. They were wonderfully colorful, an abstract pattern with pale blues and lime green. They definitely were eye-catching.
I am always aware of my surroundings. Too much interesting stuff is going on all at once. This time, I noticed the stockings, but I took it one step further. I struck up a conversation with this woman. Nothing deep, just a comment on her stockings. She smiled and we talked briefly.
So what does a pair of unusual stockings have to do with possibilities?
I wanted to go outside my box. Normally I wouldn’t say anything. Maybe a glance and nothing said. But this time, I wanted something different. No, I didn’t want to pick her up. I just wanted to flirt. Part of me wanted to see if I could do it.
I was a self-conscious 19-year old- didn’t have the tools or the experience.
I was an uncertain 22 year old – afraid of rejection or saying something stupid.
But, at 48, still redefining my life, yes I want to flirt. I want to feel vital. I knew nothing was going to come from this encounter, but I was willing to take a chance. Take a risk, knowing there was nothing to lose.
The second event was I shut off my computer. I have developed a habit of coming home, retreating into the Man Cave, and playing mindless card games, just staring at the screen. It made my eyes hurt after awhile.
But yesterday, I shut it down. I put on some music in the living room – Jennifer Warnes’ “Famous Blue Raincoat- The Songs of Leonard Cohen”, and I sat down and began to write on a legal pad. Just notes, off-the-cuff, in a wonderful stream of consciousness. Every so often, I’d close my eyes and breathe deeply, enjoying the moment.
It was a small moment that felt big.
Here I was, at home, in sweats, no particular place to go, and loving every minute.
This post is a direct result of my experiences last night. I want to write. I want to tell my story, but I don’t want to be restricted by this blog. Why should I wait for time at the library to write? Who says I should type in my thoughts? Put them down on paper. Broaden the horizon a bit. Get outside the box.
Discover the possibilities.
