Too Busy To Blog

I keep forgetting that one reason I said I was going to blog was just as a way to vent, let off steam, etc. A journal. Sometimes inportant and sometimes not. Today's a "not."

I'm so busy I just feel overwhelmed.

• Car broke down
• Sold house
• Packing house
• Bought condo for kids (and wife)
• This Saturday is "free dump" day. You can put all your crap on the curb and "they" will pick it all up for you. Score! This saves a ton of dumpster money, but it's sort of a chore just to sort it out, and stack it so it's ready to haul to the curb Friday night! Yikes!
• 1 Coworker out on an early maternity leave. She feels guilty, but I'm glad Jeff and I are able to pick up the slack for her. So far, that's been easy! She's healthy, too. So that's good.
• It's depressing to go through your stuff and divvy it up between me and my wife. Luckily, neither of us has our hearts set on particular things, but it's sad to think about.
• It's depressing to go through your stuff to pack it up to go into storage, since I don't really have a plan for me, yet. I've realized just how little I need. This chair... This thermos...

There's more, I'm sure. My friends and family are having issues, too. Injury, school, work, you name it. In the grand scheme of things, I don't have it so bad, but it doesn't feel "not bad."

Let's look at the positives for a sec.

My kids are great! I had a great weekend with them.

My daugher approached me to apologize for spending so much time with her friends instead of me. That was nice, but I'm just glad she has fun and didn't mind all the time I spent cleaning the garage!

My son and I played a lot of badminton until I nailed him in the lip! He's okay and we yelled "Bad Minton!" at that stupid shuttlecock. He hung with me in the garage, while I listened to the fitcast (fitcast.com). He commented on the fowl language of this "radio station." Hmmm.... Apparently, "ass" was said. Not donkey related, either.

Finished up the weekend with a great phone call from Canada! Gotta like that (and I do!).

So, I guess I'm not too busy to blog, just to busy to really think about blogging. So, as I hit "Publish Post" and submit this, I'm thinking that I'm glad I took a moment to type this out, even though little thinking happened...

Resting Comfortably

Recently, I was asked what comforts me in life. It was a little hard to come up with something off the top of my head. I don't really think of things that way.

Food used to comfort me. I'm sure it still would, to an extent. But, I'm not going there, anymore!

The gym comforts me. That might seem strange to some. I'm amongst like minded people, yet they leave me alone. Perfect!

Coffee houses comfort me. Coffee may be bitter, but the patrons rarely are. At least not about people. They're bitterness usually resides in their politics, more than their positions on the people around them. Again, I get to be amongst people, but sort of alone (There's a theme here, eh?)

But, in my recent journey across the country, to Little Rock, Arkansas, I rediscovered a great comfort of mine. And, perhaps, the strangest of them all; the reststop.

They have these reststops all over the place. Little highway pullouts with restrooms, a lot of parking spaces, pet "walking" areas, picnic tables, and vending machines. The best have some sort of local history plaquards or perhaps a "majestic vista" to entertain you as you stretch your legs.

When I was a kid, I used to beg my parents to stop anywhere BUT these places. Stopping at a reststop meant hours of boredom, a picnic lunch instead of the preferred burger and fries, and a lot of "no" as we repeatedly asked for change for the vending machines.

But, as an adult, I realize that these were some of the best times on the trip. Those picnic lunches were good. We always got a chance to explore the outlying "wild" areas of the reststop. My dad played just the right amount of football or kickball with us. My brother and I played tag with even the youngest of siblings in the car. Over lunch, we'd talk about what we'd seen as we drove, what we were going to see in the next leg of the journey, and what we were going to do when he got to tonight's stop. I'd say we had more conversation in that hour at the rest stop than we did back in the car, when there was nothing to do but sit silently, read, or torment my younger brothers or sister.

At night when we were camping, or in the motel, or even back at home, family time was nothing like those few short hours at the rest stops. At the reststops, we talked without arguing, helped unpack and pack the car without complaint, and generally acted the part of the perfect little family. Those thoughts are comforting to me now, more than ever.

During my trip, I looked forward to each and every reststop along the highway. I even found myself pulling into one for a stretch a mere mile or two after just getting back on the road from a lunch or gas stop. At each one, I took a look around, checked out the scenery, and watched the people hanging out. Nearly everyone looked a little tired. But, they looked comfortable being there.

Duh

Cut myself shaving again. What a moron...

What's with guys keeping old underwear?

"A fresh change of underwear can be quite refreshing." -- Eugene, on "Happy Days"

In most gyms, guys shower and dress in one big locker room. No privacy.

Whenever I'm in that locker room, I shocked at what I see guys wearing: Formerly white butt-huggers, briefs with holes in all the wrong places, boxer briefs on the wrong body, and yesterday, in addition to all that, I saw a jock strap on an old man who barely shuffled along, much less needing the "active support" that an athletic supporter provides. Come on!

I find it hard to believe that any women wear panties when they're past their prime (the panties, not the ladies (I'm sure women who are past their prime still wear panties (let's hope!))). I digress...

Why do men hang onto old underwear? Not that I've ever had underwear past it's prime, seen better days, etc. But anyway, enough about me...

Where was I? Old underwear.

"Make sure you've got good underwear on. You might get in an accident," Moms will say to their sons. It's got to be a universal thing, or we wouldn't know this phrase, right? But why is it universal? What drives a man to hold on to these ragged things? I honestly don't know. Don't keep reading, hoping for the answer. It's not here. Just more questions...

Many guys have a variety of unmentionables in their dresser. I'm not even talking boxers, briefs, boxer briefs, etc. However, I don't think anything that falls into the "etc." category here should even exist for men; boxers, briefs, and boxer briefs the only rational options.

When I talk variety, I'm talking age and condition. Some are new, some still serviceable, some well worn, and some are the walking dead. That's two categories past what women have! You won't even find women's panties that are past "still serviceable!" Not even in a cross-dressers drawers! I think they have a magical self-destruct mechanism.

Ironically, I think men hang onto them out of laziness. They don't like to shop. Especially for a staple item like underwear. We don't really want them as presents, but if there was a Men's Underwear Day, we'd be relieved to have take them as gifts for the occasion. Now, why is this ironic? Because, just like having too many regular clothes, it makes it so you have to choose underwear based on the occasion. "Shouldn't wear these. Too new. Better save them 'til I need 'em. These are too old, what if I get lucky? Probably won't though. Hmm. These look serviceable. Any girl worth having won't care about underwear anyway. I can always turn out the lights. These are clean, at least."

Women don't have that issue, because they ditch the undies when there's a question. Whole? Ditched. Rip? Ditched. Skid mark? Ditched.

Or do they? Is the big secret that women have old and skanky undies, too? It's not just whether the pair looks demure, sexy, cute, matches your outfit and/or the theme of the evening. Maybe women also have a back part of their drawer, too, filled with old, yellowed, faded, stained, and otherwise gross undergarments. God, I hope not.

Good night.

Vacation Starts Now!

Dos Equis
Pollo Chipotle y Mango Salsa, frijoles negro, y calabacitas

Driving starts tomorrow...