Sunday, October 19, 2014
My House...
Work burn-out, mid-life crisis and I take abstract pictures of the inside and outside of my house. I don't go much further anymore as I'm so tired on weekends that I really don't have the energy. But here they are, here is what I see in my suburban landscape/homescape. Maybe one isn't so abstract.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
On Being a Father...
I was telling my wife the other day about how different my thought patterns where when I was in my mid-20's. Nothing really surprising there, we all grow up and mature and our thinking and outlook changes. But to me, what I find interesting is how narrowly focused my life was at that time. Probably no different than other twenty somethings, my life was entirely organized around me.
But one thing that might have been different is what the 'me' part was was. My number one priority at that time was to manage my life such that I could drink without doing too much damage to myself. I was careful, not because I cared about my health, I didn't, but because I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize my ability to continue drinking. Drinking was all that mattered. I recall so vividly that at the time, I would dream about a life where I could live quietly, perhaps alone, surrounded by enough alcohol that I wouldn't have to worry about ever having leave to get to my next drink. I remember thinking that I could probably live that way until I was about sixty and then die quietly; that was the life I dreamed about.
It's kind of shocking to think about that as I look back now. And it sounds so unbelievable that I don't think my wife took me very seriously. But it was so true and was so real. To be sure, my purpose here isn't to talk about my long road back to sobriety, but let me say one thing about it. Thankfully, I found sobriety and learned from others that there was a better way to live. But even when I was finding that new life, I had no real thoughts concerning my future, my career or how the next twenty or thirty years would unfold. I really was just taking things one day at a time, cliche at it sounds.
Fast forward to last week. Last week, my wife had to leave for an extended period of time to take care of her ailing mother. Without expecting it, I was now a 'single' working parent in charge of a house, my 9 year old son and my dog. Also, I was, and still am, right in the middle of one of the busiest times I've ever had at work -- literally I've been working nearly 11 hours a day since last year sometime.
Two really interesting things happened to me during that week. The first, I actually got some time away from work, though I was able to work from home, participate in calls and keep up on email, I learned that being away from the office was kind of nice. It helped me understand how, without even realizing it, that work is a hugely important part of my life. I actually missed being in the office. I don't know yet if this is good or bad, just that it is.
The second thing was that I got to spend a great deal of time with my son. I'm not going to tell you that it was any sort of 'Courtship of Eddie's Father' moment, but it was nice. I played Xbox with him, we ate sandwiches together for dinner reading over the Wall Street Journal, we read books at night. And I even managed to take a day away from work and go to Six Flags with him. We spent the whole day there --- opening to closing. And in the latter part of the afternoon, we went to the waterpark. And that time in the waterpark, believe it or not, was what made me understand that I love my son more than anything else. Why the waterpark? The afternoon was cloudy, a bit windy, with temperatures in the low 70's. It was cold. But I rode every slide, went in every pool, stood in every line trying not to shiver, because I know it's not about me anymore. It's about him.
And how couldn't it be, seeing him here waiting in line for a roller coaster. Could it be any better?
This chain of thoughts brings me to the reason why I started writing this blog. Without my wife home, I had time to read at night -- she's not going to like me saying this -- but I didn't have to talk to anyone after I put my son to bed. So I did some naval gazing and even googled 'mid-life crisis'. And not surprisingly what I found, all of the things I am going through and have been feeling over the past year are so spot on with someone going through a mid-life crisis.
Sometime during the last year I had some sort of weird breakdown where I all of a sudden felt the weight of the world on my shoulders; thinking that I am responsible for the well being of my wife, my son, my co-workers and that I have absolutely no control over what comes next, was too much suddenly and all I wanted was to be alone. The trigger might have been when I saw co-workers being laid off and without even realizing it, I started to wonder, why not me and what would happen if it were me -- would we have to move....all of the things that could change or be destroyed if I simply didn't keep it together. But like I said in the title of my blog, I'm no different than any other middle age person with a load of responsibilities. But knowing it doesn't make it any less scary.
But one thing that might have been different is what the 'me' part was was. My number one priority at that time was to manage my life such that I could drink without doing too much damage to myself. I was careful, not because I cared about my health, I didn't, but because I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize my ability to continue drinking. Drinking was all that mattered. I recall so vividly that at the time, I would dream about a life where I could live quietly, perhaps alone, surrounded by enough alcohol that I wouldn't have to worry about ever having leave to get to my next drink. I remember thinking that I could probably live that way until I was about sixty and then die quietly; that was the life I dreamed about.
It's kind of shocking to think about that as I look back now. And it sounds so unbelievable that I don't think my wife took me very seriously. But it was so true and was so real. To be sure, my purpose here isn't to talk about my long road back to sobriety, but let me say one thing about it. Thankfully, I found sobriety and learned from others that there was a better way to live. But even when I was finding that new life, I had no real thoughts concerning my future, my career or how the next twenty or thirty years would unfold. I really was just taking things one day at a time, cliche at it sounds.
Fast forward to last week. Last week, my wife had to leave for an extended period of time to take care of her ailing mother. Without expecting it, I was now a 'single' working parent in charge of a house, my 9 year old son and my dog. Also, I was, and still am, right in the middle of one of the busiest times I've ever had at work -- literally I've been working nearly 11 hours a day since last year sometime.
Two really interesting things happened to me during that week. The first, I actually got some time away from work, though I was able to work from home, participate in calls and keep up on email, I learned that being away from the office was kind of nice. It helped me understand how, without even realizing it, that work is a hugely important part of my life. I actually missed being in the office. I don't know yet if this is good or bad, just that it is.
The second thing was that I got to spend a great deal of time with my son. I'm not going to tell you that it was any sort of 'Courtship of Eddie's Father' moment, but it was nice. I played Xbox with him, we ate sandwiches together for dinner reading over the Wall Street Journal, we read books at night. And I even managed to take a day away from work and go to Six Flags with him. We spent the whole day there --- opening to closing. And in the latter part of the afternoon, we went to the waterpark. And that time in the waterpark, believe it or not, was what made me understand that I love my son more than anything else. Why the waterpark? The afternoon was cloudy, a bit windy, with temperatures in the low 70's. It was cold. But I rode every slide, went in every pool, stood in every line trying not to shiver, because I know it's not about me anymore. It's about him.
And how couldn't it be, seeing him here waiting in line for a roller coaster. Could it be any better?
This chain of thoughts brings me to the reason why I started writing this blog. Without my wife home, I had time to read at night -- she's not going to like me saying this -- but I didn't have to talk to anyone after I put my son to bed. So I did some naval gazing and even googled 'mid-life crisis'. And not surprisingly what I found, all of the things I am going through and have been feeling over the past year are so spot on with someone going through a mid-life crisis.
Sometime during the last year I had some sort of weird breakdown where I all of a sudden felt the weight of the world on my shoulders; thinking that I am responsible for the well being of my wife, my son, my co-workers and that I have absolutely no control over what comes next, was too much suddenly and all I wanted was to be alone. The trigger might have been when I saw co-workers being laid off and without even realizing it, I started to wonder, why not me and what would happen if it were me -- would we have to move....all of the things that could change or be destroyed if I simply didn't keep it together. But like I said in the title of my blog, I'm no different than any other middle age person with a load of responsibilities. But knowing it doesn't make it any less scary.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
B Sides...
I live about 35 miles outside Boston in a town of about 35,000 people. We chose this town because it was relatively close to where I work, had pretty good schools and was, all things considered for the Boston area, relatively inexpensive.
Now I must say though, we moved here from Cary, NC which is just about the opposite of the town we live in now. Cary is pretty much a planned community where each of the neighborhoods have very strict covenants. The houses within a community might appear to be slightly different from each other, but the are really all the same. The houses are well tended and looked after. In most of the neighborhoods it's against the rules to park any sort of boat of RV in the driveway, and even building a tree house in the back yard requires permission from the community board.
When I think back to this area, what I remember most though are the roads. They are so nice, and in fact the median strips even have flowers planted in them. All of the shopping centers are well designed and set back so that it's hard to even notice them. In fact, when I first moved there, I couldn't find a grocery store and came to the conclusion that all people in Cary must simply not eat. It was only after a few days of driving around that I learned that just because the shopping centers are cleverly hidden doesn't mean they aren't there. In fact, I soon to learned that there were four grocery stores within a mile of my house.
Massachusetts is a bit different. For one thing, it's an absolutely horrible place to be a road. From November to April the roads are under constant bombardment by freezing rain, snow, tons of salt and then it gets warm enough for things to thaw for a few hours and then freeze again. In fact, most of the roads are positively awful as far as roads go. The interstates are pretty well taken care of, but the roads that wind through the towns, not so much.
That said, I've become fond of them. So much so that I no longer use the interstate for my commute to and from work. I take all side roads that wind and twist their ways around small hills, swamps, ponds and shopping centers. But for the 10 extra minutes or so that it takes me each way, I get to be alone.
I drive a little Mini-Cooper S. It feels like a go-kart and even though it's not going to out run a Porsche, the six speed gear box lets me have the feeling, if ever so slight, that I'm doing something other than just driving back and forth to work.
During my drive, I listen to books. I'm not getting smarter doing that, they are mostly mystery novels, usually set in the UK or Northern Europe, but they take me away, at least temporarily from my very average life.
And it was only as I was thinking about this that I was reminded of the Supertramp song "Take the Long Way Home". When the album "Breakfast in America" came out, I was barely a teenager and the song that was so popular was the second song on the A-Side of the album titled the "The Logical Song". I hardly ever heard "Take the Long Way Home" because it was on the B-Side of the vinyl album and who bothered to actually flip the album over, especially since the A-Side was so good.
Though I liked "Take the Long Way Home", I didn't really understand the meaning of it, so it really didn't have an effect on my. It was only later when I was older that I realized it was about a man, coming home from work, deciding to take the long way home so that he could, just for a few minutes, imagine that he was somebody other than who he really was. And even when I realized what the song was about, I didn't imagine that one day, I would be that man, deciding to take the long way home thinking about all of the things I could be but realizing that one I am is the one on the A-Side -- the side that everyone plays. I am what people see and I try so hard to make the A-Side good, that no one thinks to flip the album over and look at the B-Side.
Now I must say though, we moved here from Cary, NC which is just about the opposite of the town we live in now. Cary is pretty much a planned community where each of the neighborhoods have very strict covenants. The houses within a community might appear to be slightly different from each other, but the are really all the same. The houses are well tended and looked after. In most of the neighborhoods it's against the rules to park any sort of boat of RV in the driveway, and even building a tree house in the back yard requires permission from the community board.
When I think back to this area, what I remember most though are the roads. They are so nice, and in fact the median strips even have flowers planted in them. All of the shopping centers are well designed and set back so that it's hard to even notice them. In fact, when I first moved there, I couldn't find a grocery store and came to the conclusion that all people in Cary must simply not eat. It was only after a few days of driving around that I learned that just because the shopping centers are cleverly hidden doesn't mean they aren't there. In fact, I soon to learned that there were four grocery stores within a mile of my house.
Massachusetts is a bit different. For one thing, it's an absolutely horrible place to be a road. From November to April the roads are under constant bombardment by freezing rain, snow, tons of salt and then it gets warm enough for things to thaw for a few hours and then freeze again. In fact, most of the roads are positively awful as far as roads go. The interstates are pretty well taken care of, but the roads that wind through the towns, not so much.
That said, I've become fond of them. So much so that I no longer use the interstate for my commute to and from work. I take all side roads that wind and twist their ways around small hills, swamps, ponds and shopping centers. But for the 10 extra minutes or so that it takes me each way, I get to be alone.
I drive a little Mini-Cooper S. It feels like a go-kart and even though it's not going to out run a Porsche, the six speed gear box lets me have the feeling, if ever so slight, that I'm doing something other than just driving back and forth to work.
During my drive, I listen to books. I'm not getting smarter doing that, they are mostly mystery novels, usually set in the UK or Northern Europe, but they take me away, at least temporarily from my very average life.
And it was only as I was thinking about this that I was reminded of the Supertramp song "Take the Long Way Home". When the album "Breakfast in America" came out, I was barely a teenager and the song that was so popular was the second song on the A-Side of the album titled the "The Logical Song". I hardly ever heard "Take the Long Way Home" because it was on the B-Side of the vinyl album and who bothered to actually flip the album over, especially since the A-Side was so good.
Though I liked "Take the Long Way Home", I didn't really understand the meaning of it, so it really didn't have an effect on my. It was only later when I was older that I realized it was about a man, coming home from work, deciding to take the long way home so that he could, just for a few minutes, imagine that he was somebody other than who he really was. And even when I realized what the song was about, I didn't imagine that one day, I would be that man, deciding to take the long way home thinking about all of the things I could be but realizing that one I am is the one on the A-Side -- the side that everyone plays. I am what people see and I try so hard to make the A-Side good, that no one thinks to flip the album over and look at the B-Side.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Morning Wakeup...
Many years ago when I was in high-school, and then later on in college and the early years of my first real job, I woke up to the loud buzzing of an alarm clock. It was a very handy piece of machinery, and when I remembered to set it, was very reliable. It's one weak spot was the snooze button which became my friend and was more often than not the reason I found myself rushing to get showered, dressed and out of the house to get on with my day.
Later, there was a period of time in my life, where for reasons usually related to late nights out with friends, I found the alarm clock wasn't so reliable. To be sure, it would go off, but was easily turned off and given my still inebriated condition, quickly forgotten. Fortunately, I made it through this period without causing too much damage to myself or others.
And after emerging from this fog, I became fascinated with the idea of living a very disciplined sort of life, almost monk like in fact. I was in bed by 9:30 and up at about 5:30. I loved the feeling of being able to wake up in the still dark of the morning and have this time to myself and revel in the fact that I was simply able to do it.
Now, I'm older. I'm a bit more tired. My days are long and I have trouble falling asleep for reasons I will get to in later editions, and the morning is once again not so much my friend. But what I do have now that I didn't have before is an absolutely reliable alarm clock, one that simply won't take no for an answer. And the truth is, I wouldn't trade her for anything. Her picture is below.
Her name is Peggy. This is a picture of her staring at me after having just woken me up. She is very demanding. If I don't reach down and start petting her upon immediately being awoken, she digs her nose under the covers looking for my arm reminding me that she is there and has once again done her job and that she should be rewarded for it. In fact, I was barely able to grab my camera and get this shot off before she was after me again.
She is wonderful. A two year old Great Pyrenees/Golden Retriever mix that our family rescued. Her life is very simple -- she wants to be loved, and of course rewarded for waking me up, usually much earlier than I would otherwise desire.
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