Pulling Weeds

Over the last week or two, St. Louis received a fair dumping of snow along with highs in the single digits and lows sinking well below zero. It has made me yearn for springtime. Once February rolls around, I'm over winter. Really, I'm over winter immediately after the holidays are over. The holidays make it bearable, but once it's all over, there's not much else. It's painfully cold and depressingly gray for another two months. February is the worst, however. While it may be the shortest month, it's also the month that really doubles down on the winter weather here in St. Louis. So, when March arrives, I welcome it with outstretched arms. Also, I'm beginning to take a liking to spring as the years go on. Growing up, summer was always the best. Long days and no school. That was really what made it special, but there's so much I could list that made me love summer (and still do). Fall was always great, too. I developed more of an appreciation of it as I grew older. I liked the colors, the smells, the weather cooling off without turning cold, and, once I reached a certain age, the taste of a Schlafly Pumpkin Ale (the best pumpkin ale in my opinion). Spring, however, has become a wonderful time to me. I was married in spring, my daughter was born in spring. Winter and all it's grayness is fading away. The air gets warmer, the days get longer, and I know that summer is just around the corner. 

Why am I talking about all this? Why ramble on about seasons? Because, even though it's been colder than Dante's Ninth Circle of Hell, the temperatures are rising back to warmth. I know that February is fading and with it winter. March is almost here. Now, there have been years past where there's snow in March and even in April here in St. Louis, but...I'm holding onto hope. So with those rising temps I'm already thinking about the garden. Building it back up and planting new plants. There's a lot of work ahead after the threat of cold is over, but I'm excited to get back out there. It was a little something to do and I miss it. 

With the thinking and the planning, I've also thought about last year when I made those beds into a thriving little garden of herbs, tomatoes, and peppers. It took time, and it was about this time last year I bought a shovel and hand spade to clear out the dead weeds. Many of the weeds were easy to pull out. Grab and tug. Easy enough. But, there was this "tree" thing that was less than simple to remove. Now, I have no idea what it was, but I see these little guys sprout up in my flower beds from time to time. They seem harmless enough at first. If I catch them early enough, I can use the ol' "grab and tug" technique and pull them out. If they get any bigger than a sprout, that's when the real struggle begins. See, these things grow nasty, deep root systems and if I let them go long enough, they become a nightmare to pull up, even if the plant above is seemingly small.

So, there was one in particular that had made it's residence for...quite some time. It had grown into a fairly large plant. And I had trimmed it a few times the first couple summers we were here, but I couldn't just do that. As long as that root is there, it'll grow right back, unfazed by trimming it or even cutting it down. So, I knew I would have to dig down deep and get at the roots. I took my shovel and small pruning shears, and...went to work. 

Of all the weed pulling I did on that fairly warm, sunny day in late February, this guy took the most time. I started digging, and realized this guy had a deep and intricate root system with thick roots, and I mean THICK. So thick in fact that I had mistaken one long, bright yellow root at first as some sort of cable or pipeline. And that was just one. So I dug, and snipped, and pulled, and dug some more. Finally, after who knows how long, I snipped enough of this "bulb" looking main root where the main stem was attached that I was able to remove it completely. The other roots that stemmed off it...well, most went very deep and with a wide radius. At that point I didn't have the time or energy left to really dig out everything. But that main root, the massive shoot of whatever weed this was, was finally removed. It felt like removing a cancerous tumour. I dumped it into the yard waste bin then covered the hole, satisfied with the work I had done. Since then, I have not seen the tree or any sprouts. I think I pulled out the main hub of the plant and it couldn't, at the very least, grow back.

I tell this story because, as I've done for the last year, I've been thinking a lot. I think about the emotions I've felt and worked through this last year. I think about friendships that changed, or dissolved, or that have generally hurt and disappointed me. I think about disappointments with job prospects, having to be the one who always tries to reach out and get any sort of response or feedback, positive or negative. I think about times when I get annoyed with my wife, or frustrated with my daughter because all of these external stressors that have made me less patient and gracious. At times, I don't want to give the same love or respect back to others because they haven't done the same for me. I don't feel like I owe it. Yet, that is not at all the right response. It's a reactionary response, and an emotional one. A response that is more "eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth". One that is less mature and lacks any sort of self control. 

About December I hit a breaking point. I was tired, and not a "I'm sleepy" sort of tired. A deep tired, as I have described it to some people. An exhaustion of mind and spirit. A tired and broken heart. It was like having a fresh wound, a deep gouge, and every time a breeze would blow, the wound would sting. In any other circumstance, I would easily forgive small, trivial instances of uncourteous behavior. But having that wound, made those instances all the more irritating and painful. 

After breaking and hitting that wall, I thought about my garden. I thought about that warm day last year at the end of February. I remember pulling, digging, cutting and fighting with that weed. It was large. It was deep. It was unchecked for a few years. It's like the anger. It's like the hurt. I allowed for my hurt, my annoyance, my frustration to dwell here in my being. I made it acceptable to live here. Now I realize, in order to plant a garden, I need to get down on my hands and knees and rip it out of the ground. I need to hack and slash to pull it out so good things, fruitful things, can grow here again. 

Thinking all this made me realize that the only thing we are truly responsible for and can honestly work on with honest hard work is our own gardens. We choose what grows there, not someone else and their actions. We choose whether or not to pull the weeds. We choose what flowers, what vegetables, what fruits grow there. There will always be weeds, that is a fact. After I planted and spring was in full throttle, weeds came. Little weeds, and they were easy to pull up. Along with pulling weeds, we need to water. Rain and weather we cannot control. But we can fill a watering can and give our plants a drink. We can control the soil, add compost and fertilizer. This metaphor can go on and on, honestly, but I believe the point has been made. We cannot control weather, weeds, or pests. We also cannot control what our neighbor does with their garden. We can only choose what to do with our garden.

Now, I say all of this but that doesn't mean I'm completely enlightened and have pulled all the weeds out of my metaphorical garden. Far from it. Right now, I simply realize that the garden is overgrown with nasty weeds and has been for some time. Weeds with roots that dive deep into the soil. Weeds that cannot be simply pulled, but rather need to be dug and cut out. There's a lot of changes in my way of thinking I need to make. Changes in my attitude. A few hard conversations I will inevitably need to have so that my garden can thrive again. The day will eventually come when the garden will be cleared and the plants will be watered and pruned.

With that, I encourage you all to do the same. Be thankful. Remember to tend to your own garden for your own wellbeing. You cannot control everyone or every circumstance, but you can control yourself and your response, which may end up being influential. 

Reset

 Of the variant hobbies I've cycled through over the years, gaming is the oldest and most constant of them all. I've been gaming since...well, since I was pretty young. Nearly 30 years if I can make an estimate. I don't remember exactly when my father bought it, but we had a Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) for some time. That was my portal into the world of video games. The system came packaged with a single cartridge, which was Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt. I don't remember what childlike awe I had for games, but I'm sure I was to some level blown away. Here was something I could see on my TV, but I could control it. I made Mario walk (or run) across the level. I made him jump. I made him swim. I made him smash goombas and koopas. I made him shoot freaking fire. What is cooler than that?

Later on my dad bought more games for the system. Batman, based on the 1989 blockbuster superhero movie of the same name, was really cool. At the time I was really getting into Batman, mostly because of the movie. In Batman I could play as the Dark Knight himself. I had the ability to punch enemies into dust. I could jump between walls. And of course, there were three different Bat-gadgets at my disposal. I watched my dad play it a lot because he was way better than me at the time. I feel like I kinda learned how to navigate and play an old NES game because I watched him do it. He died a lot, and watching as a kid, you learn a lot. 

As time went on, more systems came out with better graphics. I had the Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES), I had the GameBoy, I had the Nintendo 64. Later I moved away from just Nintendo and played Playstation and Xbox. The systems may have changed but my love for games remained the same. 

As I grew older, I wasn't sure if I continued to play video games because it was a nostalgic, comfort thing. Yes, that is certainly part of it. Is it that I could be Batman, or Superman, or Mario, or Sonic, or James Bond or that I could fight dragons, command armies, swing swords, shoot guns, drive fast cars, fly a ship, or save the world? Well, yes, that was part of it, too. Video games are immersive. Unlike books and other art mediums, I had the control. I controlled how the hero won, how the story played out. Games allowed me to sink into the world and escape for...many, many hours. And my "hard work" always paid off. The world was saved. The people were happy. I was thanked for doing the task laid out in the game. I was appreciated and recognized. 

The most overlooked, underrated feature to video games, however, is the "Reset" button. Stuck? Reset. Things not going your way? Reset. Need to change the game from "Medium" or "Hard" to "Easy"? Reset. On older consoles, there was an actual reset button. At any point, you could hit that bad boy. Didn't need to pause and navigate a menu, you could just hit "reset" and in seconds you were back at the title screen and you could start things fresh. 

I bring all this up because, probably like most anyone else, I wish life had a reset button. Reset and change the difficulty level. Reset and start over at your last save right before that boss battle. Reset and change the stats and attributes of your character. Reset just to play the easy first levels of the game just before it became unforgivingly difficult. It's been said, "Be careful what you wish for", but I almost wish I could hit reset on this year. Hit reset because, although it's been grueling and taxing on numerous levels, I still believe there were so many opportunities for me personally to be better. I did not take that time or effort in hindsight. I may have "learned" some things, but I didn't benefit myself or anyone else. This year could have been more of a victory than it has been.

So, what do we do? Try to do better. Try to apply what we've learned, which, as I grow up and grow older, have only realized I do a very poor job of applying. I also do a very poor job of remembering. This gets me into trouble, and then I wind up on a site like this and ramble for a few paragraphs about video games and how reset buttons are great but also metaphorical. 

2021 is in 3 weeks, and that'll be as close as I'll get to a reset button. Hopefully I can start applying and remembering, because I certainly can't reset and change my character at this point. 

A Pep Talk for Young Artists

 Years ago I used to make "books" several of which I made when I was still in kindergarten, sometime in May of 1993, at least that's when my father dated the published products. They include such classics as "The Man Going Fishing", "The Kick the Man In the Water", "The Aliens Shoot", "The Boy Gone to the Moon" and my personal favorite, "Throw the Pizza". All of them are only a few pages in length with no text other than the title, just crude stick figures drawn with markers. "Throw the Pizza" opens on a scene of two young boys sitting at a pink table with five legs. The boy to the right end of the table holds what appears to be an entire pizza in his right hand. The next page, we see that the pizza has been released and soars across the pink table towards the other boy. On the following page, the pizza has completed its journey across the table and an explosion of red marinara sauce covers the opposing boy's face. The fourth and final page depicts a mother wiping the boy's face off with a smile on her face. Simple, and brilliant. The other little books have roughly the same amount of plot, and unfortunately the titles of the others kind of give away most the story, the exception being "The Man Going Fishing" which opens with a man on a chair fishing by a pond and ends (Spoiler alert) with a large fish jumping out and swallowing the man, only to splash right back into the pond. 

Among these little books, which are kept in a manila envelope, are also some old drawings of things I was into at the time, all of which were dated by my dad with the month and year. I have also a short story I wrote dated October of 1993 (I was in first grade at that point). I'll copy that short story for you here now, complete with grammatical and spelling errors. 

one night a little boy wnt to a graveyard. a ghost popped up and scared him. the little boy ran away and jack-o-lanterns popped up while he ran. he fell down and he got up and ran some more. he looks back and he sees the ghost behind him. boo, says the ghost. the little boy ran to his house an he went under his bed. he never heard from the ghosts again. the end. 

Chilling. Now, aside from my vignette  "slice of life" work I had accomplished only five months earlier, I think this was my first short story. I typed it up on my mom's old electric typewriter. I recall my mother sitting right beside me and, given that I was only six, I had to ask her how to spell pretty much every word. I will say, it's not my best work. Little to no character development, unless we think that maybe the boy went out there on a dare or just happened to be into the occult. There's some suspense in the middle. Not sure on the resolution, but maybe the ghosts just wanted to scare him enough to run back home and leave their graves in peace. Difficult to say. 

I bring all this up because, looking back on these creations as well as all the drawings and comics and stories I made in the following years, I realized I had no fear of being imaginative. I had no fear of sitting down and making something. I just did it. I did it because it was fun. Sure it passed the time, but it wasn't work, it was something pleasant. Now I try to think of something, and I can't. I can't because I just don't have the tenacity to just sit down and CREATE something. I corner myself by thinking, "That sounds like this", "That's too simple", "No one would be interested in that."

College did a lot of great things. I learned how to workshop as a writer and receive honest feedback as well as give it. I read a lot, and I read a lot of things I probably would never read on my own, or think to read. I learned different styles of writing, such as fiction, poetry, playwriting and screenwriting. My worldview and cultural awareness grew. But, I think it stymied my imaginative vision. This could also speak to my character, that I didn't exactly accept critiquing well and thus questioned if I would ever have the ability to produce something of worth. That's what I'm trying to overcome right here, right now in front of you. I look back at this blog and, man, there's a lot of nothing. It is not really good. At all. I seriously don't know what my goal was other than just writing consistently online. But God Bless 23 - 31 year old Mike. He still tried. 

One quote I'm pretty sure I've seen before in my life but it had a stronger impact on me recently is "Give yourself permission to write crap". I've done that from time to time, but not consistently. My goal now is to commit to writing even if it's just good for nothing dribble. I'm jogging here. I'm fat and pasty and sweaty, but I'm jogging down the block on a hot summer afternoon. And one day, I'll run a 5K, or a 10K, or half-marathon. Who knows, maybe I'll slim down and go for that marathon. Right now, I just have to jog down the block in all my disgustingness. 

Ultimately, I need to be a kid again and create for fun. Write a story, draw a comic or cartoon, play music. I did all of these things but as I got older I slowly did them less. For those of you who know me, Kurt Vonnegut is one of my favorite writers. Writing this I am reminded of a quote of his from "A Man Without a Country":

Practicing an art, no matter how badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something. 

I'll keep striving to post on here, whether or not anyone is reading. If nothing else, it'll be an opportunity to make my soul grow.  

Gardening, My New Hobby: Cultivating Peace and Fond Memories During a Time of Global Unrest

 At the start of this year I decided to try my hand at gardening. There were a few reasons for this decision. For one, there are two garden beds beside our house which remained untamed over the first couple years we lived here. I did little to maintain it, so for the summer seasons of 2018 and 2019 they were both overgrown with weeds of all kinds. It was almost like one of those vacant lots you see while driving, or the "Prairie Restorations/Preserves". So last winter I decided to clear out both beds and make use of them, as they were intended. My other reason was I had an urge to grow and make my own things. I had this fleeting thought years ago of raising an herb garden. My thought was to plant herbs which I would later use in herbal teas, so lavender, mint, lemon grass, chamomile, etc. This never came to fruition. Another reason was, I felt like I needed a hobby, but one that's productive. What's more productive than having a garden? It also seemed fairly simple. I could learn a new language, yes, but I could also just dig around in dirt, place seeds or plants into the ground, and watch'em go. I also watched my dad grow peppers and herbs years ago to use in cooking and to make his own salsa, which I guess also falls under the "grow and make my own things" reasoning. Lastly, of the plants I wanted to grow, I wanted to grow tomatoes. I felt like they were easy enough to handle, but I have a memory of my Uncle Rex going on about how tomatoes grown in Missouri soil were the best he ever tasted. Personally, I have never really cared too much for tomatoes, but wanted to make my mild skepticism into belief. 

First thing I did, back in February, was I borrowed some books from the library. They were helpful to get an idea of what I would need, provided the difficulty of each kind of plant, and helped me craft a rough plan for the project. My plan was simple as far as "what to grow". I was going to grow herbs like cilantro, basil, thyme, dill and oregano in one bed; my other bed would have tomatoes and peppers. With that in mind, I was ready to clear things out and till the earth. I bought simple tools at first such as a shovel and a spade. I went to work clearing out the beds. One had this deep rooted tree-like weed which took a majority of my time and effort. A gnarly thing that I had to dig in deep to uproot. With some hacking and snipping I was able to get it with a hand saw and hand trimmers. Once the beds were cleared, it was time to get the garden in shape, but since it wasn't spring yet and we still had a while before the anticipated last frost of the season, I decided to wait. 

And wait I did. Time went on. COVID came and made it's home. I was furloughed from my job during this time in April. I spent time looking at some YouTube videos so I could plan my work (Gary Pilarchik - The Rusted Garden was probably the most helpful with his video on starting your beginner garden, in case you decide to do the same). I made a list of supplies and headed over to Home Depot. I bought a couple bags of garden soil and fertilizer. I bought some seeds for my herbs, but planned to get transplants for tomatoes and peppers. None to be found, so I headed over to a nursery I knew of near our house. Near as I could tell, not a lot of what I was looking for, unless I was looking for more landscaping items. I went to another nursery, also very near our house, and they had a wonderful selection of plants. I bought two grape tomato plants, one regular run-of-the-mill tomato plant, green pepper, jalapeno pepper, chili pepper, cayenne pepper and a lavender plant (for the herb garden). I bought a few stakes and then took everything back to the house to get started. 

I remember it was a great day - sunny, blue skies, warm. I started breaking up the dirt in the beds with the shovel then poured a bag of garden soil in each and mixed it in. For the seeds, I put them just under the soil and mixed around some fertilizer. For the plants, I dug a small hole, mixed in fertilizer and set the little guys in. I set up the stakes next to them some support as they grew. Gave them all a good shower of water and...well, let them go. 

When I did all of that it was around April 18th or so. It was slow going for a long time. Every morning, during the time my daughter took her nap, I would go out through our walk-out in our basement and go to the side of the house to take a look. This morning visit would occur nearly every day until roughly a month ago. Honestly, the pepper plants looked worse for wear at first. The poor cayenne pepper plant I planted at the very end of the bed looked ragged for a while. He would get the first and last bit of sun every day, but it didn't look like it helped much for a long time. I also snipped the tops of the pepper plants when they were still small, a tip I learned online to help pepper plants grow bushier and with more peppers (which worked over time). Time went on. April became May which soon brought us all to June. My plants were getting bigger (the grape tomato plants shooting up like a weed). The plants were finally starting to flower. Then, one morning in early June, I stepped outside to do my morning check and found something which made me involuntarily and audibly gasp: a single, tiny, green tomato. Yellow flowers had been budding and blooming for a couple weeks, but this, THIS was a sign that I was doing things right. It still took a while for that little tomato to grow and ripen, but seeing it for the first time was exciting. From then on, the plants went crazy, both in growth and production. My first venture in gardening was turning into a success. 

The summer went on. I had loads of grape tomatoes. I had numerous regular tomatoes. And the amount of cayenne peppers my little cayenne plant was producing! Everybody was doing pretty well...except my herbs on the other side of the AC unit. The cilantro slowly but surely sprang up. The lavender I planted from a transplant was doing well. As for the dill, oregano, basil and thyme seeds I planted...no shows. Nothing at all. To make up for it, a cherry tomato plant sprouted right out of the ground beside the lavender. Over time it became overwhelming, growing faster than the other tomato plants which I purposely planted. It too produced loads of cherry tomatoes. 

Over the summer I harvested and used a lot. The fresh cilantro was used for a pork chop marinade and a batch of salsa I made. The lavender buds I used for hot tea. The grape and cherry tomatoes were used mostly as a snack (and mostly for my daughter, who luckily enjoyed them a lot). I gave many plastic bags fit to burst to family and friends. The regular tomatoes were used for burgers, BLTs, salsa and, well, just plain eating. The jalapenos I threw into salsa and some omelets. The chili pepper plant...was interesting. It grew large and bushy, but its problem was the flowers. For most of the season, the white flowers would die and fall off. Only a couple produced chili peppers. It wasn't until I trimmed it down considerably that it came back and produced numerous peppers, but by then the season was nearing the end (which was about September/October). The cayenne, however, became a wild bush filled with peppers. They would ripen to a bright red and I would harvest them a few at a time (only a handful seemed to ripen on the vine at once). With those, I tried my hand at producing hot sauce. It was a bit of trial and error at first, and I required the collective knowledge of YouTube yet again. After a couple tries I got it down. I probably made 5 or so batches of hot sauce over the last 4 or 5 months. It was used for hot wings a couple times, but mostly to put on eggs an mexican food. My last batch of peppers I harvested before the plant died I actually smoked on my grill, along with several chili peppers. That sauce has probably been the best. 

Overall, the attempt at gardening was a success. Sure, a few herbs didn't grow, but I wasn't broken up about it. I still got a lot of produce from my plants, and nothing beats the feeling of picking something fresh and bringing it into your kitchen. Some of my favorite memories though, are going out each morning and examining the plants. There were mornings I spent twenty to thirty minutes pruning and taking care of the plants which brought a sort of Zen peace I guess. Through everything that's going on, I needed that. I needed that quiet, that focus on nature. Then there were the mornings after it had rained. The crickets chirped and the air felt cool. I would grasp a grape tomato covered in rain water and pluck it off the vine. I put it in my mouth and it seemed sweeter and juicier than any store bought grape tomato I had eaten. 

Another memory I enjoyed was sharing the garden with my wife and daughter. With my daughter, we would go out in the backyard and play. She would trot over to the side and look at the plants, wanting to tug and pull at them. She always managed to pull off unripe grape and cherry tomatoes. I tried to teach her only take the red ones. I would pull off some that she couldn't reach and hand to her. She would munch on as many as she could get, or at least as many as I would allow. Her mouth and the top of her shirt covered in tomato juice. 

The garden is of course gone for this year. A night that dipped below freezing earlier in the month killed off pretty much everything. The lavender is hanging in there though. I anticipate building raised beds and possibly making it a little larger next year. Would love to grow cayenne peppers again and make hot sauce. I'm a little bummed the sauce I have now is the last batch.  Just need to make it last.

And to answer your thought - Yes, this skeptic, who once didn't even care for tomatoes, now believes that Missouri soil can produce some of the juiciest and sweetest tomatoes.

For those interested, I did post some garden photos earlier in the summer on my Instagram @AllTheMadOnes. I have others which I still have on my phone and I may post later as a sort of recap. 

Thanks

 Once again, been a while. For my dear followers, if any, my plan is to write more on here. It'll be a lot like going back to the gym, or jogging around the block. Slow, embarrassing, and some fat rolls may poke out from under the tattered "work out shirt", but all in an effort to get in shape. I always respect people who look very out of shape, yet jog through the park or neighborhood. I'm always inclined to shout a word of encouragement, but don't want to come off as sarcastic or condescending. Maybe I should look past that fear.

The last time I was on here I ranted and raved about the, at the time, new Star Wars movie. Since then, there's been more movies and now a streaming TV series. However, I will not rant, rave or critique today. Today's objective is pursuing the thought of gratitude. We'll see how that goes. 

I may be very late in the game to be the first to say, "2020 has been a tumultuous year". Actually, I'm sick and tired of hearing about how it's been one bummer of a year. Yes, it has. There's no doubt. Like many others, I started this year never hearing the word "Coronavirus". Those were the days. Then it started picking up buzz, but it was one of those things that was far away. Then it came to the U.S., then to our fair state of Missouri. I went from never hearing "COVID-19" and "Coronavirus" to hearing them more in the past year than words like "The" in my entire life. And of course once it took up a comfortable residence in our vernacular, things really started to shake up. Lockdowns, work from home, furloughs, lay offs, to which I myself had to experience. Then phrases such as "Practice safe social distancing", "Unprecedented times", and "(Insert holiday/event) is going to look a little different this year" were uttered ad nauseum. For a time I saw very few people, and even now don't see my friends very often. Concerts and public fairs and festivals cancelled. Not to mention all the ill and dying from the outbreak. The political discord that sprang up. And that was just the pandemic. Let us not forget the fires in Australia, bombing in Beirut, injustice happening on American streets, riots, and of course, one of, if not THE, zaniest presidential elections in U.S. history. Yes, folks, what a year it has been.

With all of that, it's hard to look past and hope, or try to seek out what was actually "good" during all of it. That's what I've been trying to get to as this year carries on. Some of the good.

Thanksgiving was two days ago. As with every year, it's a time to spend with family, friends, and look back on all the blessings. This Thanksgiving, more than ever, has probably compelled us to look at what we're grateful for. I'll start with myself. Devoted readers, you can think about what has moved you toward a heart of gratitude as well. In fact, I encourage it.

This past year I was laid off due to COVID-19 ravaging the American economy, specifically for the travel and hospitality industries. I was laid off pretty early on, so I remained at home with our one-year-old daughter while my wife continued to go into work, her specific position necessitating it while almost everyone else at her office went to WFH. As you can imagine, I spent a lot of time with my daughter. A LOT. At times, exhausting, what with everything going on. I tried to remember, however, all the time I was spending with her was time I would never get back. It was a time, and still is, to build a foundation, a connection to my daughter.  I got to take her to the park during the summer and fall. I got to watch her grow into a little toddler. I learned, too, that she lives only for the moment. What a lesson to learn right now. She would be on the swing, smiling, maybe laughing, and that was it. She was in a kind of Zen bliss. I would still check my phone, or think (ha, who are we kidding - "worry") about other things. But she wouldn't. There was no past. There wasn't any future. Just that singular moment of pure, child-like joy. God bless her. She'll never realize it, but she helped me to stay grounded through this. Sure, I had my bouts of emotion and depression, but I don't think I would have gone through all this near as easily without her. 

Aside from her, there's family. I am truly grateful to our little family. I've spoken of my daughter, but my wife as well. She has struggled hard through this, and at times we were kind of suffering simultaneously. Money was tight and still is. We're trying to raise a toddler during a pandemic. Still, she works hard for us, and has spent a lot of time over the last several months to help me search for jobs and hunt down connections while I spend a lot of time taking care of our little girl. I think we've both been a rock to one another at different times, and our sanity has wavered to and fro, but I'm thankful to have a strong woman like her alongside me, even if sometimes she herself drives me to the edge of insanity. Comes with the territory of these strange times.

Then there's our respective families. Her parents live very close, and so have relieved me from caring for our daughter to either search for jobs, interview, get things done around the house, or just to give me a moment to sit and catch my breath. My parents, who live slightly further, have also made time to spend with our daughter, which offers a bit of a break. 

There's also been a lot of time to reflect, whether that be personal values, flaws that are now highlighted by a stressful and exhausting situation, or where my true friendships and relationships lie. Old friends have shown up to talk again and reform old bonds. Lots of good long talks with some of those people.

If I've learned anything this year, be grateful and don't complain. Or at least, complain less. I started this year tired and rather discontented, and quite honestly I don't really remember any reason why. Then COVID-19 happened, a situation that required what little was left of my being over the course of  8 months and counting. I wish I had valued 2019 and where my life was at a little more. Hindsight is 20/20 (haha - little joke there). There's been a lot of moaning and complaining, but I'm trying real hard to get to that place of consistent gratitude. Peace. That's another. Be at peace, at all times, because it can change for better or worse at any given moment. Find the peace in the moment, in the situation. "Embrace the chaos" is another phrase I've heard through this, yet that has a little bit more meaning and use than the others.

A scripture I've been thinking about through this year harbors these very revelations. Philippians 4:4-8:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace off God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable -- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -- think about such things.

Rejoice. Rejoice always. What a tall order. Sulking is easier, or at least seemingly easier. Turn on your streaming service of choice and mindlessly scroll through social media while sitting on the couch until all the noise of the world becomes a dull hum. That'll get us through it. That'll make it easier. I haven't come down from the mountain enlightened or anything, trust me. I've just been there and know what doesn't work (for me). Right now, I have a notion that having a mind of peace and gratitude will get me through. However, putting that into practice is a different beast to battle altogether. That part I'm still working out, and some days are worse than others. 

Hoping that everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I hope that you took time to realize the things you need to be grateful for, in spite of everything. And if not, you have the chance to do so tomorrow, and throughout the days to come. 

All the best.

The Last Jedi - Thoughts and Critiques

"No! No different! Only different in your mind. You must unlearn what you have learned."
                                                                                                                 -Yoda

I will need to preface this post with a few things.

First, and I think this needs to go without saying but....THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN THIS POST. If you DO NOT want the movie to be spoiled, then stop reading and go over to your Tumblr or Etsy tab now.

Second, in no way am I trying to reshape or devalue your opinion of this film. This is rather less of a review and more of me just working out what a Star Wars movie is (to me) and how I personally go forward from here.

Third, and lastly, I believe this also goes without saying but...I love "Star Wars". So much so that I can't stop thinking about the new movie, and I feel the need to get out some thoughts publicly. So bear with me, if you're up for it.

In a world of reboots, franchises, and a litany of sequels, I think looking at a film or reviewing a film can be less about critiquing at film as a film, or even a film in it's respective genre, and critiquing it more as "How well did it hold up to the rest of the films in the franchise?" rather than just critiquing it in the most pure sense. This is my problem.

As I previously stated, I love "Star Wars". I was born in a generation when the original movies had long since been released in theaters and video; long before the prequels and even the Special Editions of the original trilogy. I remember watching them for the first time as kid with my parents. I was probably about four or five but even then there was for me an allure to these films. They were strange, for sure. There was gold robot, a large dog beast, and everyone had these cool guns that shot lasers. I would run and jump around at my grandmother's with my orange laser pistol that made all those annoying little electronic sounds, pretending to be Luke Skywalker trying to escape the Death Star. As I grew older I rewatched the films and became obsessed. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know every backstory and every background character. I wanted to be Luke Skywalker. I wanted friends like Han, Chewie and Leia. I wanted to learn to be a Jedi by Yoda and Obi-Wan. I wanted to fight Darth Vader and save the Galaxy. This was a world that sucked me in, and I wanted to be a part of it.

Years go on. I grow up. Some mediocre prequels were released. I went to all of them, expecting to be blown away, but even as an adolescent, I was not impressed. They had cool fight scenes, and that was about it. The story didn't grab me as much and I didn't care for the characters. Still, I consumed Star Wars. I read some of the books and comics. I played the PC and console games.  These allowed me to live out childhood dreams. I could be a Jedi. I could fly an X-Wing or the Millennium Falcon. I could fight to save the galaxy from the empire with my friends.

Fast forward to December 2015. It had been a lengthy ten years since the last Star Wars movie was released in theaters. Time had passed. I grew up. I had moved from my home, I lived in a different country for time and I eventually got married. But my love for Star Wars was still glowing bright. I went with a couple of buddies on opening night, December 17th, 2015. I saw "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..." and then BAM! The fan fare hit, and there it was, "STAR WARS". My inner child jumped up and down inside me. Like Han and Chewie, I was home.

Did I enjoy "The Force Awakens"? Of course. I watched that movie with not only 3D glasses, but also the metaphoric "Rose Colored Glasses". But, I would see it again with my wife, and for whatever reason, I wasn't quite as captivated.

Another year goes by. A new "Star Wars" was released. This one had no characters we had met before. It was all new, and would bridge Episode III and IV. Yet, when I watched it, I was left wanting more. I didn't care about these "new" characters. They didn't interest me, and I was never sure as to why. Maybe...maybe I wanted to see my old friends again? Maybe I wanted to see Luke after they left me hanging at the end of "The Force Awakens".

Yet another year goes by. Another "Star Wars" comes out. But this is the big one. This is ..."THE LAST JEDI". So mysterious...kind of like "The Return of the Jedi". What did it mean? Who is the last  Jedi? Will someone die? Will someone turn?

My best friend, his girlfriend, her sister, and his brother hop into the car, ready to see the next installment after having just revisited "The Force Awakens" again. We get our tickets, walk to the back to our theater, (I take a preliminary photo of the movie poster to post on social media), we walk into the theater and take our seats...and prepare for the two and a half hour epic.

After it's all said and done, I walk out of the theater, wanting something more. Something...different? But it was something different, wasn't it? It was new "Star Wars", This wasn't like how it was before, right?. In some respects, yes. And at this point, I don't want to tear apart the film, because this wasn't a film I hated, or disliked. I just want to state, for the record, it was pretty good. I just...well...I don't know. I guess that's what I'm trying to figure out.

Let's start with what's good. First of all, and this goes for all the new "Star Wars", it looks great. The worlds look awesome, the battles, no matter if they're in air, on land, in space, etc. are very cool. The creature costumes and effects are also well done. It's like the old times, before everything was CGI all the time. Things look real, which also makes them look weirder, and I think that's a big part about "Star Wars". These places need to look foreign to you. Sure, there's people, but there's also all these weird creatures. It goes back to the classic Cantina scene in "A New Hope". You walk into this bar, but it isn't a normal bar. This bar is on another planet in another galaxy. There's all manner of creatures and they look like real creatures which, for me, takes me out of where I am and places me exactly where these characters are. Practical effects make me feel a part of the experience. Enough said.

I appreciated that they delved into the background of what happened to Luke and Ben (which I was expecting, but still appreciated. Still, left wanting more, which I'll get to). I think this movie also helped to develop Rey a little more as a character and how she's trying to work through learning her powers as well as who she is. Finn also get's a chance to develop a little more. He starts off wanting to run away and leave everyone else behind, like in the last film. In the end, he does get to a point where he's ready to go all in and sacrifice himself by flying straight in the giant laser battering ram, which Rose, a new character, stops him just before he hits, at the cost of her own life (actually, I can't remember if she died or just badly injured). Luke of course goes through a whole 180 in the film, and I'm guessing this was the central point of the film - a great Jedi and warrior, crushed by the fear and failure of his past, coming back around to assist the Resistance in need, with Gandalf-like timing.

With all that said, there are things I had problems with. I'm going to say it again: I love "Star Wars". I love "Star Wars" like I love "Final Fantasy". There are great "Final Fantasy games". There are not so great "Final Fantasy" games. There are some "Final Fantasy" games that people swear to be the best, yet I did not enjoy them (*ahem* FinalFantasyEight *cough*). But, I love "Final Fantasy" and get excited with each installment. I also love "Star Wars", which means I'm not just going to blindly say, "This is a great Star Wars movie!" I'm going to feel certain things and view it a little more harshly. Granted, we have emerged from the dark tide of the prequels, but that doesn't put any new "Star Wars" above reproach. There's probably a lot of emotion I have, and I carry forth a lot of what I stated up top into these movies.

To start, and this is question I have kept turning over in my mind since I saw it last night, What makes a "Star Wars" movie? What makes it good, what makes it enjoyable? I don't have a concrete answer to that. Maybe you do, and maybe this film checked off all those boxes. That's great. For me, there's a lot of points where this both felt like a "Star Wars" movie, but not at all at the same time. For one, I've noticed these movies rely heavily on two things: Explosions and silly humor. I know what you're thinking: "But Mike, you insolent fool, all the 'Star Wars' had explosions and humor!". Yes, but, there's....a lot more now. The original trilogy was ground breaking in regard to special effects. But, not everything was blowing up. I'm going to probably use "The Empire Strikes Back" as my golden standard here, which many of you will find unfair, but this is in many ways trying to be "Empire" (more on that later). In regard to explosions, you had the opening bombing sequence (which was awesome, don't get me wrong), the constant fire fight as they were trying to escape the First Order fleet, Laura Dern driving at light speed into the fleet, and then the large battle at the end. "Empire" had the opening battle for Hoth, the Millennium Falcon evading TIE fighters which crash in the asteroid field...and that's about it. Not much in the way of stuff just blowing up. Now it's about having bigger explosions, and having our heroes make it out just in time.  As for the humor, I like "Star Wars" humor. Scruffy looking nerf herder? Classic. But that was banter between friends. When they would talk to the villains, nothing was really silly or comical. Yet, at the start of "The Last Jedi" (TLJ), Po is bantering and goofing with General Hux, which kind of took me out of the situation. I understand Po is a guy who hasn't much to fear and makes light of a situation ("So, how does this work? Do you talk first or do I talk first?") but I wanted it to be serious, especially when five minutes later numerous people die in battle. And then there's Finn, a character who can be incredibly serious, or very silly, and when he is silly, it doesn't always seem like the appropriate moment. Going back to "Empire", I don't think a single joke is cracked from the time Han is frozen in carbonite to the end credits. It's all serious. "TLJ", however, feels to need to make a joke at any moment. I understand lightening the tension, but I also need things tense. Disney makes it a point to have jokes and wise-cracks in there films, so maybe this is a result of that. I think part of my problem is that I was anticipating a much darker film, and while it had some darkness to it, I still feel "Empire" is much darker.

As previously mentioned, this movie takes a lot from "Empire". Here's a list of things I noticed:
- A Resistance/Rebel ship running across the galaxy from Imperial/First Order fleet
- Young Jedi going to planet to train with Jedi hermit who is famous Jedi Master
- Young Jedi finds dark place and goes to have a vision. Learns more about Him/Herself and the power of the darkside.
- The gang gets double-crossed by gambling thief
- "Join me and we'll rule the galaxy" speech
- Large battle with Resistance/rebel fighters in trenches fighting giant robot walkers.
I read an article online called, "'The Last Jedi' Doesn't Care What You Think About 'Star Wars' - And That's What Makes It Great". In it, it clearly points out that this is trying to be a new thing. This isn't your Daddy's "Star Wars". Times have changed. I see the clear deconstruction of "Star Wars" within this movie, which I'm fine with. It even sort of touches on taking out the Jedi factor all together, just stopping it (which is an idea I really hope they explore in the next film or later installments). Yet, if taking "Star Wars" apart is the goal and completely reorienting what I grew up as a "Star Wars" move, then why also have a death grip on the originals, nearly ripping plots, lines, and scenes straight out of the originals? Maybe it will change after this one? But why have one foot out the door and one in? That's the vibe I got from this.

The last thing I'll say, is that I've really come to hate Kylo Ren. No, not in a sense that he's a really evil villain. No, he has become very irritating. A good villain should do one thing - make you hate their guts for who they are and what they do, but at the same time making you think, "But I understand why you are like this." One of my favorite shows is Breaking Bad. Clearly, there are some terrible people, but no one character is inherently bad, nor inherently good. In the case of Walter White, he starts as the guy you root for...all the way up until the end. When you reach season 6, you hate him. But, then you get to that final episode, and you start rooting for him again. He's a villain, he's lost himself and become so wrapped up in what he's doing he's no longer doing it for this family...but you get it. You saw what his life was before - hen-pecked by his wife, disrespected by his son, works as a humble school teacher and lost the opportunity to make millions with his former business partner, and then - bam- diagnosed with cancer. So he loses it. Tip toes to the edge until he can look over and fall in. You understand how he got there. You don't agree with it, but you understand why. Then there's Kylo Ren. I get it. He's mad. You can tell by watching him choke someone or bash another computer console with his helmet or lightsaber in every other scene. But...why? So, they explain. Luke saw the evil in him. Saw the raw power. So, he thought to kill him. But he doesn't do it. Luke stops. Yet Kylo wakes, sees the saber. Grabs his own to defend himself. And then what does he do? Goes to the dark side. That's it. He's had all he can stand. Life has been too rough. Time to take it up with Supreme Leader Snoke. I waited two years to have his past revealed, and that's it? Nothing else happened? No other terrible thing? I don't buy it, and it makes me hate that whiny character all the more, which is unfortunate, because I like Adam Driver as an actor.

In the end, this isn't "Empire". This isn't the original trilogy. And maybe I need to be okay with that. Have I just completely disowned the "Star Wars" franchise then? Absolutely not. I love "Star Wars". I'm going to keep seeing these movies. But I think it's a new generation, and I need to accept that. I will always have Episodes IV, V, and VI, pre-Special-Edition-ized of course, in my heart and memories. But it's time to pass on the baton, or the lightsaber, and look ahead to a new generation. There's a lot I'm hoping they will explore with later movies. They have some good ideas. I guess they're just not fleshed out to my liking. I'm set in my ways at this point. Maybe I should listen to Yoda: "You must unlearn what you have learned". Maybe I'll try. Or "do".

I've gone on for far too long. WAY longer than I intended. There's plenty of plot hole stuff I could gripe about, but I feel like I've made my point somewhere in there. I will say, one of the best moments in the film was when Mark Hamill kissed Carrie Fisher on the forehead. Even thinking about it now get's me a little emotional. The scene was Luke saying goodbye to Leia, but I also saw it as Mark saying goodbye to Carrie for the last time.

Thanks to all who made it through. This is probably my longest post, if not my longest post in a while. Leave a comment. Maybe I'll see it in six months.

May the Force be with you. Always.

What Happned...?

Not sure how else to start this one...so here goes.

I was looking back at an old post I made in April of 2012. At the time I was twenty-five years old, and after reading it again, all this time later, I think I had more wisdom then than I do now.

What happens to us? What happens to people? One day we have all this joy and optimism. We look at the world, our life, right in the eye, hard, unblinking, unflinching and we say something like, "You can't bring me down. Not today. Go on and try."

But, then something changes - snaps maybe. Breaks down.  We wake up one day, look at the world in the eye, and utter nothing. We look down, hoping that maybe it'll stop staring back. Stop staring us down, making us feel stupid. And while we stand there, cowering, we can't help but think, "What happened to you?"

Maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm the only one who looks back and wonders where all that vigor went. Wonder why I can't just simply think, "Runnin' ain't that hard, man. It's just puttin' one foot in front of the other. No big deal." Where is that guy? Where is that optimism when I wake up on a Monday morning? Instead, I see a tired, chubby "man" in the mirror who instead says, "Hey, man. I don't like this as much as you do." It's gone. I'm thirty - a mere thirty years old - and I'm wondering where that optimism went. Only five years pass by, and I've thrown in the towel. Where did all that hope and inspiration come from? I would gladly pay any amount of money to have that again. An almost naive sense of purpose and determination. That guy - that guy from 2012 - he was headed places.

And I guess he did. I mean, he went to South Korea. Went on an adventure away from everything he loved and knew. But he came back, and that wonderful scamp became - well, the person who is typing this now.

I'm trying to find that again. I really am. And I'm not here to mope and complain, but I read that old post and all I could think was, "That's not me. I don't know who I am, but that just isn't me."

We live near Tower Grove Park in St. Louis. I've gone running there numerous times. My distance is increasing, but let me tell you, it is nothing like that other guy. I'm trying to find my purpose, too, but it's a real fight to have the optimism like that guy.

Anyway, I don't mean to be a downer. Nobody likes that. People like people who say crap like, "Push your limits, man. They are nothing but some illusion you set up." Yet, I think people like other people who are honest. Hopefully, though, I'm not being too honest.

Dress me in sackcloth and cover me in ashes. I will go about the streets weeping and mourning. We've lost an inspiration. But, it will be my intent to show him honor. I will honor that brave individual below by living my life the way he lived his. Perhaps, I can at the very least, aspire to be like him. Aspire to run 26.2 miles and go on adventures. Carry on his very spirit so he can continue to inspire us all.

That's it. That's all.

Peace.