I Seem To Be Stagnating a Bit Here....

...so I asked myself "Why do I blog, anyway?"

...and the answer came back: "For the Fame, Fortune and Accolades, of course!"  Ok, so, not really. Let's revise that to say: "Because the occasional comment from you, dear readers, really blows up my skirt..." 

Or something.

I was reflecting on my preference for written communication the other day. My first thought was a little disconcerting - I thought that maybe I'm a control freak. I want to say only what I want you to hear and don't want to "slip up" and let something out that hasn't been "edited" "proofread", "polished" and "approved". 

I suppose there is an element of that, since I'm not a very "open" person, but there are other, less sinister reasons. 

I realized that, I strive to communicate exactly what I'm trying to say. A conversation can't be edited for clarity. In conversation, people tend to think you've slipped into a coma or something if you take the time to "edit" and consult your "thesaurus". 

I also realize that too often, conversation tends to wander aimlessly - and off track - like  drunken livestock, and after the conversation ends and the person walks away, you remember you wanted to say "________", or you forgot to tell them "_______".

I am also not a "phone person". I am one of the six people in the US who doesn't have a cell phone.  With my land-line, I'm still on the old-school plan where I pay for each call. Last month, there were NO additional charges for "calls made". The month before that, four calls, for a total time of five minutes.

I get a sense of satisfaction from writing something and getting it "just so".  I also like "word-play", in both written and spoken communication. I am by no means above poaching things I've heard that tickle my funny bone. For instance if you hear/see me use the mangled words "not necess-celery" you can credit Benny Hill..... Phrases like "handier than jumper cables at a redneck wedding" abound in my conversations.

With that, I end this "filler" post until I can find something else to rant/drone about. Thanks to those of you who've commented, so far.

(And for those of you who are breathlessly awaiting further developments of my midlife crisis, don't worry, it's still ongoing. Should I get the urge to get something pierced or tattooed, don't worry, you'll be the first to know).

".....always like to keep my audience riveted...." - Sherrif Bart 

(Blazing Saddles).

Middle Class Middle Aged....Midlife Crisis?

Given that I'm pushing 50, I thought it was time to get on with my midlife crisis.

What shall it be? A red sports car? Too expensive and high maintenance. A twenty something blonde girlfriend? Again, too, expensive and high maintenance. (The only twenty year old I'm interested in says "Bushmills Single Malt" on it...) A motorcycle? Naw, already had one of those for thirty years, now. How about running away and joining some religious group? This has potential. I mean, the Belgian monks live on some kick ass beers, bread, cheese and sausages. (What else is could one possibly ask for ?). Also, the thought of silence -as opposed to the eight hours a day of babbling retards I currently endure- certainly has it's charm. But there's that little celibacy clause that kind of overrules the positives of that scenario.

Guess I'll have to settle for a complete career makeover.

Ever see someone who's been at their trade for a long time? They move with a purposeful grace, minimal wasted motion and seem to make things happen with great ease. 

After about 30 years as a toolmaker, I have achieved that zen state of almost effortlesness. I've seen people watching me with the same mild awe with which I watch my brother-in-law the sheetrock finisher .

I work in a small shop - part of a larger company. The shop is clean and air conditioned in the summer. The work is not repetetive, allows creativity, and a fair degree of autonomy. The commute is cake, the hours are good, benefits decent. I've accumulated almost three weeks vacation time. It pays pretty well - allowing to me to live this middle class existence for almost 20 years now.

To paraphrase Garrett Morris, (as Chico Escuela): "Toolmaking been berry, berry good to me"

So why, now, do I want to chuck it all and start over?

Indeed.

I think it's a combination of boredom, changing values and a downward spiral in the atmosphere at work. After 30 years of doing what I do, I'm BORED with it. I have a different perspective on what's "important". What used to be a fun place to work is more and more becoming an opressive, Nazi death camp. Too many people have drunk the Kool Aid.

I ran across an interesting quote the other day that summed it up nicely: "Midlife is when you finally get to the top rung.........and find out that the ladder was against the wrong wall".

I know I'm not alone in this. I remember my dad spending many, many years in the insurance industry, then going through a tough stretch when he lost his job and had to take what he could get to keep the roof over our heads. Curiously, when he was working at Denny's he found he loved it. It didn't pay enough to live on, so he moved on. In the end, he found a job he really, really liked at a family planning clinic, but I was always struck by the fact that my number-crunching, paper-shuffling, pencil-pushing dad found himself as a short-order cook.

Way back when I first left high school, I knew I didn't want to wear a suit and tie and work in an office. I knew I wanted to "make stuff".  My initial choice was "carpenter". I went to vocational school and took "Building Trades I & II". (What I really wanted was to be a cabinetmaker, but they didn't offer that).  Unfortunately, in 1978, when I graduated, the housing market was competely in the toilet. Plan B was to make use of the Metal Shop classes I'd taken. Six different employers and thirty years later, here we are.

So what do I want to do?

I'm not sure. I just know it's time to do something different. A verse from one of my favorite John Mellencamp songs struck me the other day ( Don't worry - I should heal nicely):

"Jackson Jackson was a good kid

He had four years of college and a Bachelor's degree

Started workin' when he was 21
Got fed up and quit
When he was 43
He said, "My whole life
I've done what I'm supposed to do
Now I'd like to maybe do something for myself
And just as soon as I figure out what that is
You can bet your life I'm gonna give it hell."

Stay tuned as I take this ride! Might be fun, certainly will be interesting. (And who knows, I may get more than one blog entry a month out of it...)

Auld Gang Syne

I've never been one to engage in mindless ritual, just because the calendar says so, but this year, coincidentally, things seemed to be converging at the juncture of the new year and old, so I said "What the hell..." and  just rolled with it.

In general, lately, I've been in a period of coming-to-terms with myself. As an extension of that, - just for shits & giggles- I started to write my autobiography.  I was sure I'd never finish it, but I was having fun with it, so I kept adding to it. What started as a whim soon snowballed into about six pages (ok, so I've led a dull life - sue me) and consumed many hours in writing, re-writing and editing. When I was done, I had a document that no one will ever read, but the process of writing it proved surprising. Looking at a lot of things in retrospect was interesting. There were many things I'd never realized and others that I was able to look at with a somewhat fresh perspective and let go.

The next item that seemed to lend itself to a year-end solution was work-related. I'd had the project-from-hell over my head for almost two months. It was almost finished, but I was scheduled to take about two weeks off. I decided to put off the vacation for a couple of days and finish the damn thing. Done.

So now that I'm already rolling in "wrap-up-loose-ends" mode, have two weeks off, and am expecting guests for Snowshoe Volleyball XII in a couple of weeks, I ripped into my list of projects around here with a new sense of purpose. I started from one end of the house and cleaned to the other. I did a massive clean out. I opened every cupboard, closet and drawer and took everything out. If it hadn't seen use in a while, it was GONE. Into the trash or the Starvation Army pile. 

Very cathartic.

I cleaned, and cleaned some more, only leaving the things that will need to be done again at the last moment before the gang arrives for the game. 

Then it was on to the project list. The finishing touch wallpaper border we'd been threatening to put up in the bathroom since we remodeled it five years ago? Done. The wallpaper repair here in the den? Done. (Not without a LOT of swearing, cursing and throwing things, but done, nonetheless....). The sump pump drain pipe that needed repair? Done. Things to be hung up and cleaned up in the basement? Done. (Well, what didn't get thrown out, got hung up...). Prints we'd purchased a few years ago that have been languishing in the closet got taken to be framed. The landfill was paid a visit. 

It was also nice to have the time to ski and exercise. I even managed to do a little family history research I've wanted to. (With mixed success).

Now that I'm on a roll, there seems to be one big loose end to tie up: my job. BUT... that's the subject of my next post.

Here's to 2009.