The Midlife Crisis Continues......

As I chew through what I want to be when I grow up, the question I've naturally asked myself is "What's important to you?"

(Hey! Maybe someday, I can write a book to share my job/life change adventure - I can call it "Who Sabotaged My Parachute?")

Anyway, before I digressed - awright, who's the wiseass who just said "you can cross "writer" off your list "???? - I was attempting to explain how I came to the conclusions I have reached so far.

First and foremost, I decided that, while money was an obvious concern, it is definitely secondary. Number one has to be "doing something you like". Drinking beer while web-surfing probably isn't a career option, so I've thought about other things that might actually pay the bills.

Much to my surprise, when I took my part-time, seasonal job in the bike shop, I found out I like working with people. I actually LIKE retail - even the occasional customer who makes you weigh the drawbacks of a sentence for manslaughter vs. putting up with them for one more minute... I realized that what I liked about it was sharing my enthusiasm for cycling and helping people. I actually enjoyed sharing my knowledge (limited, though it may be....)

Fast forward.

I'm pretty sure no one here remembers way back to January of last year, but I actually decided to try working with a personal trainer. That was the start of my journey into the world of fitness ("fatness?"). The more I looked into it, the more fascinated I became with it. The more I read and learned, the more I realized that there are probably at least six other people out there, like me, who would like the same information. I very seriously considered becoming a personal trainer myself. I hesitated, because I thought I needed to get my own house in order before I started telling other people what they should or shouldn't be doing. I figured I'd have to do that first, before I could even think about learning the nuts and bolts of personal training. Then, the other day, I had a bit of an epiphany: As I go through the process myself I AM learning. Who better to help people figure out what works for a middle-aged person -who wants to get in shape, but has to juggle a career, a family and other responsibilities- than a middle-aged person who wants to get in shape, but has to juggle a career, a family and other responsibilities? I can honestly say "Dude, I've been there, done that....". I know what it's like.

So, to that end, I just started the educational process to become a personal trainer. No, I don't expect to get rich at it, - I don't even see me doing it anything more than on-the-side but it's a step in the right direction. Let's see where it leads. With the economy circling the drain, it'd be pretty stupid to bail on my day job, but I can at least lay the groundwork for the day when I can Johnny Paycheck my boss.........


(I just got this cool plug-in that inserts what I'm listening to as I type this drivel, so now you can get an even better idea of what shitty taste I have in music...) This post was brought to you by:
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Mark Knopfler - Speedway at Nazareth
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Low And Sweet Orchestra - Pencils and Shades
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Dio - Rainbow In The Dark
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Los Lobos - Will The Wolf Survive
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Kaiser Chiefs - I Predict a Riot
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Finger Eleven - One Thing
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John Mellencamp - Void in My Heart
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Dropkick Murphys - Worker's Song
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Matchbox Twenty - 3 A.M.
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Motörhead - Ace of Spades
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Diesel - Sausalito Summernight


(This post was also brought to you by Monkeyrider who actually gave me feedback on this blog - via the untraditional method of the telephone.... So go buy a book from him.)

Are they "Antiques", "Old Junk" or "Grave Robbing" Spoils?

I spent some time in an antique shop yesterday. (Wasn't my idea).

I already have a shitty attitude about such places - some time ago, someone broke into my camp and stole a whole bunch of "antiques". This has left me with the bad attitude that all antique dealers are fences in stolen merchandise. Not true, I know, but no one and I mean no one, can carry a grudge as well as I. (And, truth be told, had I found any of my stuff in there, there would have been violence...).

As I wandered about, looking at the "stuff", aside from my initial reaction that it was just a bunch of junk, I eventually came to the realization that, at one time or another, all of that stuff belonged to someone. Now it was just something to be sold for a profit, with no regard for the previous owner(s).

At least in museums the items are displayed with a degree of reverence. This was all just strewn about, with little-to-no respect.

Since I make my living with tools, I was particularly moved by the tools they had there. I realized that a great many of those items were in someones hands, every day - through good times and bad, just like mine. I wondered about the fingerprints - both figurative and literal- that were left on those items.

Saddest of all, I think, were the photos and portraits, with no names. Since I do a bit of genealogy, I wondered if someone, somewhere wouldn't be delighted to have those pictures... if only they knew they existed. I was almost overcome with the urge to spend the rest of my life researching those pictures and reuniting them with someone who they really meant something to. I looked at the faces and wondered "Who were you"?"What were you like"? "What are your stories?" A most appropriate Eric Bogen (or Dropkick Murphys, if you prefer) lyric came to mind as I looked at the pictures:

"....Or are you a stranger without even a name

forever enshrined behind some old glass pane,

in an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained

and faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?"

Yeah there were a lot of items that the previous owners would have gotten a chuckle out of seeing sold for outrageous prices and, yeah some of it was just kitschy junk that no one cared about. There were even items that I remembered from my childhood and thought "That's considered antique? But.....but.... I remember those!" Most, though, were pieces of people's lives, cast off and priced to sell.

I left there, still angry at antique dealers in general, but sobered by the realization that we don't really own anything, ashamed at the vulture-like aspect of the antique business and saddened by how much has been lost.

Needless to say, I wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine for the rest of the day.....