I heard someone say, “I think I want a new life.”
I’ve heard other people tell me that they want a new story.
I get it.
There was a song back in the 80’s called, “I want a new drug.”
I get that too,
Perhaps I date my childhood by saying this, but Huey Lewis and The News was on to something with that song.

I want a new story. Of course, I do.
I want a new chapter and a new beginning, but then again, this is common when things turn out unexpectedly.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, they say.
I heard a fellow alcoholic say get some vodka and make a drink.
But that’s not my style anymore, and nor has it been since April 1, 1991
But who’s counting?. 

Back when I was a salesman and young and with no real direction or idea as to what I wanted for myself, the bad days were hard and the hard days were unbearable to say the least.
An older friend of mine used to tell me, “just keep plugging, kid!”
In fairness, hated my job. I hated my life.
I hated that I had no direction and I hated that everything seemed like a dead-end or something was always pending.
Life has changed since then.
At the same time, life has not changed all that much.

I often think about a line, which came from the timeless brilliance of my favorite cartoon character Bugs Bunny.
“Is this trip really necessary?”
And I wonder.

Today is not about being honest with fiction.
No, I would rather rant and rave than be indirect.
And so, I will go forward and start with this –
To hell with what I see.
To hell with today’s modern technology.
To hell with people texting and not watching what’s ahead of them.

To hell with them after walking in to me.
And to hell with they way this happened to me this morning and to hell with the way the young man looked at me after nearly crashing against me, face first.

And here I am now, alive and well, and equally searching the same as I have always been.
I am alive and well because at minimum; I have my ten toes and ten fingers. I have two eyes which I admit do not see as clearly as they used to.
My heart beats. My ears are still on the sides of my head but like my vision, my ability to hear is not the same as when my body was in its younger form.
I am seeking something above the average.
I suppose we are all seeking something.

I want more than the soft or the quiet solitude which is a common thing for me at sunset. And yes, I find sunsets top be a peaceful moment and sure, I feel the beautiful reverence of a sight for sore eyes.

What do you believe?
This is an important question for me to ask.
What do you really believe?
And when it comes to beliefs, then I have to ask what are we afraid of?
And if we answer this honestly, then I have to ask if our beliefs impact our fears?

I ask this because I have always struggled with my so-called belief system.
What do I believe?
Do I believe in anything so fully and so wholeheartedly?
Or have I let my doubts hijack my belief system, just like the way a bully in the sixth grade hijacked my belief in the Tooth Fairy when my tooth fell out while I was in the second grade.

I believe that certain things are lifesaving.
I believe that there is no touch as soft as the touch from your Grandmother’s hand and how her skin was the warmest, most comforting thing.

There it was, a night in perfect shape, a long line that enters a club and a great list of chaos and waiting insanity.
This was life. Ad this was my life too, wild as ever, like it is when people are young.
Nothing else mattered at the time. Not my bills.
Not my rent, which was due, of course.
I never thought about investments or retirement funds.
Nothing else was important, except of course, the fact that my life depended upon the beating heart which needed to beat hard and fast.
Like lightning.

I look at life this way now. Perhaps this is because my choices are less attractive, and, so, I have to change my perception to improve my connection.
If you want to grow, then you have to grow.
Nothing changes if nothing changes.
Am I right?
At the same time, I look at our basic hang-ups and I regard our personal delusions and the thinking errors that keep us in a repetitive loop.

I think about the way we are as grownups and as people and yet, at the same time, a part of us is spoiled like brats who never got their way.

I started reading Fulghum when my Father, The Old Man, was dying in the hospital back in December of 1989. This began when I noticed the book at my The Old Man’s bedside. The book was entitled, All I Need to Know I Already Learned in Kindergarten.
I can say this book was life saving.
I can say this was life changing as well, and while I sat and waited for The Old Man to say goodbye, I began to read the innocent details of a good man’s life.

I do not know the author, Robert Fulghum. I know nothing about his real life or what he eats for breakfast or how he enjoys spending afternoons in the springtime.
But I know enough to realize that at best, we are all human, after all.

A.J. and I decided to play a game which was not unlike most of the reckless games that teenagers play. This was a game that the crazy kids play when they’re drinking shots that will inevitably make them sick.
And yes. We did get sick.
I suppose the game of quarters was the initial idea, but no one had any quarters.
So, instead, A.J. and I sat at our friend Pete’s kitchen table while his parents were out of town. We played a guessing game that went something like, “I’m thinking of a number between one and ten, guess!”

A.J. picked seven
I laughed out loud, “WRONG!” and A.J. had to drink.
This was the game and the game was unwinnable.
Neither if us could win because no matter what the number was, the response was the same.
“Wrong!” and “Now drink!”