Since my last post I have been struggling to make another… I try to write at least twice a week, as much to have some quiet introspective time to reflect on my adventures as to entertain everyone… Well it’s been radio silent for two weeks for many reasons.
I mean yes I have been doing boring “adult things”, but also I’ve been in kind of a funk. This funk has resulted in some mild insomnia and some SERIOUS writers block. So, I am taking advice that is often incorrectly attributed to Ernest Hemingway, “Write drunk , edit sober”. Fun fact while he was a notorious drunk, he always wrote sober. That being said, this evening I am not sober and I make no promises to sober up before editing is complete.
About a week ago I was up late watching TV and I suddenly realized that there were engines idling outside my window. I pulled back the curtains to see flashing lights, stopped traffic, and… two sheriff deputies parked in my driveway. So of course I did what any rational adult would do… I turned on the porch light and asked the officers if I needed to give my attorney a heads up about anything…
The good news is that they were not here to see me. The bad news is that my road was shut down by 4 sheriff deputies, 2 state troopers, an ambulance, and a fire engine… There was no accident, no fire, nothing to indicate that there was a problem other than the large contingent of emergency services… Why were they stopping traffic? I shit you not, when I asked, I was told, and I quote, “redneck stabbing at the boat ramp.”
Apparently there had been a massive brawl at the boat ramp near where I live that resulted in someone getting stabbed. Due to the remote nature of where I live, the authorities take a while to show up. So they decided to set up road blocks to try and catch involved individuals who were fleeing the scene.
So, I poured myself a drink and watched the chaos. When they finally decided to start allowing the normal flow of traffic, they had four cars full of people being detained and god only knows how many people they caught still at the ramp…
Over the next few days I discovered that the local newspaper doesn’t care what happens out here… or at least not enough to mention the chaos. So all I know is that there were some rednecks who got into a disagreement. I’m choosing to believe it was over whether Bud Light or PBR is better, but someone got stabbed…
Speaking of chaos, the house renovation is still underway. We are officially over half done with redoing the siding. Which honestly I can’t wait to be done with, I mean yes it’s hard work, and it’s hot, but… I am allergic to something in these walls and I basically work as long as I can handle, and then do nothing for 3 days while I wait for the rash to stop itching. As soon as the rash goes away, I dive back in like the idiot I am. If this doesn’t prove my unwavering dedication to making this damn place my own, then I don’t know what will.
I should also mention that my Dad is just as vested in this project as I am and it may be the Jack and Coke talking, but he deserves some recognition on how colossal of a DIY we are thus far successfully doing. So in the spirit of Fathers day (which I totally did not forget), thanks for diving down this rabbit hole Dad. It’s all your fault on multiple levels, but I think I can mark “have a grand adventure with dad” off my bucket list.
On the being a father front… This year Pretty Lady and Tiny Terrorist recognized me on fathers day. I mean they would have last year, but it just didn’t feel right to me.
Grant is without a doubt my son. If you know me, you know I can get scary angry from time to time… Apparently “papa bear” mode makes that angry look like a disgruntled puppy… As his former daycare can attest, I don’t just burn bridges, I reroute entire fucking rivers if you mess with my kid. If you weren’t told I was his step dad, you wouldn’t know. He calls me daddy, has my mannerisms, my temper, and allegedly looks like me (apparently we both are fucking adorable, I don’t know…)
I am the only father he has ever known and the gravity of that responsibility blows me away. It doesn’t matter what happens between Pretty Lady and I, Grant has chosen me and I have chosen him.
Some times, he points at me from across the room and I point back. then he’ll run up to me, and I catch him mid jump, turn him upside down and we run around the room squealing. This embarrasses Pretty Lady when it happens in Lowes… but she picked me, and he doubled down. Thus the above adorable photo of him watching me do questionable things on an extension ladder, and worshiping the ground that I would have landed on if I screwed up…
Speaking of screwing up… I have gotten fat… like over 210 pounds of sitting on my ass eating nachos for breakfast fat… I blame a lot of things for this. I mean being in a management role for the last 2 years didn’t help, but mostly I think it’s my indestructible self imagine that has allowed me to get this round. I mean, yes I can balance my drink on my gut while doing the macarena, but I am confident that I can still out climb the average joe and I dare an individual who has worked for me to try and out work me.
Why am I admitting to getting fat? Well, the climbing gym reopened recently and then temporarily closed again, but for the 2 weeks it was open, I was going every other day and while my hands hurt more than they used to, and I definitely was gasping for air, I was still climbing at a level that would be considered respectable. That being said before they reclosed I realized that my fat ass needs to get back into shape if I’m going to live long enough to hear the tiny terrorist’s grand kids bitch about the way I’m rebuilding this house.
You know, goals like that may be why I have the outlook I currently have. Pretty Lady and I were shopping recently and the salesman asked what I do for work. I told him I’m currently unemployed due to covid-19, but I’m not worried about it. We chatted a bit, and he commented that he’s never met an unemployed person who was so nonchalant about it.
I’m not nonchalant about being unemployed. I just don’t base my value on having a gig. I am more than a job. I’m a father, a spouse, a climber, a bourbon snob (with a weak spot for jack and coke), and a bad ass self made individual. Am I privleged by gender and race, yes! But at the end of the day I am proud of what is mine, what I have accomplished, and what I know I can do. So I’m going to control the controllable, enjoy my life, and anyone who judges me for not being a slave of the man can choke on a dick (or whatever genitalia they prefer)…
Sorry, writing drunk… At any rate, I now am on a strict diet, using the home gym at least twice a week, and striving to be in better shape than the dad at Grants day care who has to be using performance enhancing drugs. Seriously, no one over the age of 30 has muscles like that without some chemical help… I wonder if he actually is 30? Am I older than him? Is that diet coke in my drink? Who mixed me an old man drink?
On the topic of older, I am proud to announce that Jeff is officially an older brother. Caitlyn purchased a 2014 Jeep Wrangler. His name is Jackson (after Andrew Jackson) and Jeff is ready to play “follow the leader” and get his younger brother stuck. We have only had one adventure with General Jackson so far, but he is a solid jeep despite his abundance of plastic parts and underpowered V6 engine.
That being said, we will be putting him to the test on my next adventure. On this coming Saturday, we are embarking on a 2 week long trip to Colorado and we are taking General Jackson.
Pretty Lady, The Tiny Terrorist, and I are headed to Mineral County Colorado with my parents for a family “vacation”. I plan on putting General through his paces and proving that we should have taken Jeff, so what if his AC doesn’t work, Jeff is still the superior jeep…
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