Ramblings & Opinion Blog Posts

I was talking to a friend last week when I told him about some old posts I wrote a long time ago. If I remember correctly, they were written in 2007 and 2008. Boy, I’ve been doing this a while. Jeesh…

Anyway, I told me friend that the posts had to do with the funniest things that ever happened in my life. Now, I know that many folks out there can’t remember the funniest things that ever happened to them – and that’s partly why I decided to jot my experiences down while they were still somewhat fresh in my mind – partly. The other part was that the stories are extremely – well – funny. They mostly have to do with friends of mine who are real characters. Man, growing up with these guys…let’s just say it was an experience.

Since the person I was talking to last week had no idea what I was referring to, I decided that I should link to those old posts here. To read them and to laugh heartily, simply click the links below. And after you’re finished reading each one, don’t forget to leave a comment at the bottom of the page. I love comments, just to let you know.

The Funniest Things That Have Ever Happened in my Life

The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life – #1
The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life – #2
The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life – #4
The Funniest Thing That Happened in my Life – #5

I know there’s no #3. I haven’t written that one yet. If memory serves, I believe it had to do with my cousin Joey and some motor oil. Oh, you can only imagine.

I found a video about a month ago and had intended to write a post about it, but apparently life got in the way. I began doing other things and unfortunately closed the browser window I had the page saved in. Last night, while searching through various TED talks, I stumbled across the video once again. I watched it and I felt good – kind of like I was at home. That’s when I decided it may be worth sharing.

Introvert is almost a bad word these days. As Susan Cain describes in her talk, introverts are being squeezed out of society. It seems as though people simply don’t like them, or at the very least, feel uncomfortable around them. I suppose those who are “out there” more are more engaging and are more pleasurable to be around. I’m really not sure, but Susan claims many ideas in her talk and they make a lot of sense. More sense than I make.

I suggest you watch the video. It’ll shed light on a large part of our population and may educate you on why introverts act the way they do. As Susan says, “…at least one-third of the people we know are introverts,” so getting yourself up to speed on the basis of the actions of our friends and neighbors may turn out to be a noble endeavor.

Susan Cain: The Power of Introverts

With only one day to spare, I have come to a decision. I’ve finally discovered, and admitted to myself, my life goal. The goal I’d like to die having completed.

Now, I didn’t just come to this decision this morning. I’ve moved around for years, visiting a number of places around our country, loving, hating and having feelings somewhere in between for each one of them. A lot went into this admission, I’ll tell you that and like I said above, with one day to spare, I’ve done it. I’m finished thinking and now it’s time to act.

If you’ve been following my blogs for any amount of time, you know that I’m a tormented soul. I’m not all too thrilled with the society we live among and have vented on a number of occasions. The Wal-Marting of America, if you will. I think you can get an idea of what I’m talking about by reading my more recent “Life Is a Series of Course Corrections” and “An Allegory Of Happiness” posts.

Anyway, I think the best thing to do would probably try to distance myself from all the things I don’t care for. You know, shopping plazas, malls, traffic, highways, man-made conquests, neighborhoods and schools. Urban sprawl in general. Those things don’t help my psyche very much and have caused great confusion. I can’t think like I’d like to, or like I once could and I’d really enjoy getting back to that. I wouldn’t mind a bit of silence as well.

With that in mind, I want to give you a taste of what I’m going to be working towards. It may look a bit silly to you, but if you could sit back and imagine what it would be like to wake up each morning pursuing a lifestyle like the gentleman in the videos below, I’m sure you’ll develop a sort of appreciation as I have.

Be sure to watch the second video. I think it’s better than the first.

Off The Grid

Off The Grid: The Ice Harvest

Among other things, I did a lot of work yesterday. I’ve been plodding away at the same project I mentioned I started about six months ago. It’s yet to bear fruit. I have reserved confidence that it still may. And if it does, the fog will lift and I’ll think again once more.

During an otherwise non-eventful afternoon, my phone rang. It was a friend of mine. For about a week now, we’ve been playing phone tag. I’ll call him when I jump in my car, about to embark on a longer than average drive and usually he’ll do the same. The tragic part of our relationship is, rarely do we jump in our cars simultaneously. If he’s not in his car, he may not answer. If I’m not in mine, I usually won’t. But more often than not, he’ll answer his phone when I call. I wish it were true the other way around. I have an overwhelming sense of guilt every time I sit at my desk listening to my unanswered phone continue to ring. And ring and ring.

“Hello?”

By this time, I was standing outside our front door, looking down a neighboring road that’s filled with colorfully painted houses topped by tile roofs. It was raining and I had to keep myself tucked into the small nook that sheltered our welcome mat.

“Where the heck have you been? You’re MIA.”

I’m only assuming he was sitting at the desk in his dining room, leaning back in that faux leather chair of his, wondering what he was going to eat for dinner.

“Oh I’m here and there. Why? What’s up?”

“Well…”

And he continued to tell me about his life. It seems as though every time we speak, he has a new story of what’s going on. To say the least, it’s entertaining. I really don’t mind talking to him either because we’ve been friends forever and I’ve gotten rather good at reading between the lines. In general, I know when he’s got a problem before he does, so I sit and wait for him to realize what he’s done and for him to swallow his pride and call me to tell me about it.

Now, I don’t want to give away the true essence of what my friend and I discussed during our conversation. That was private. But what’s interesting about the whole thing is that he’s probably the fifth person to call me recently and eventually complain about the same sentiment. He’s got an odd feeling that something in the world is off kilter. Now, if you think I do a lot of analysis of the world on this blog, you should hear my friend rant. It wouldn’t be out of line for me to suggest that he’s the one I get it all from. He calls me, starts into a tirade, takes a deep breath and waits for me to chime in and explain it all. It’s quite the yin and yang relationship. You’ve really got to see it in action. You’ll be thinking of it for weeks.

I must have been wound up from a few conversations Laura and I have been having lately. Either that, or I was over the whole “poor me” syndrome that’s apparently taken us by storm. What I do know is that I cut my friend off mid sentence and instead of offering soothing and encouraging words of wisdom, I called him “useless.” He didn’t know what I meant. But you know me – I was only too happy to help him understand.

“How am I useless? What do you mean by that?”

I think he was a bit agitated by my suggestion that the world wouldn’t necessarily miss him, or any of us for that matter, if we weren’t here. But again, I felt it was my responsibility to help him get the gist of what I was saying.

“Let me ask you something. In the past month, what have you been up to?”

“Oh I don’t know. I’ve been mostly going out to dinner and playing on the internet.”

“Really? How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Are you happy?”

“Probably not.”

“How long can you go on like this?”

“I hope not much longer.”

“How long have you been like this? You know – useless?”

“As long as I can remember.”

It’s so bad, it makes me chuckle. Chuckle because I know that my friend’s life is just a microcosm of our society at large. And it’s a microcosm that so many of us are in denial about and one that we continuously plow through, under, over and around, day after day.

I felt as though I had to start at the beginning with my friend because calling him useless right off the bat probably wasn’t fair. After all, I had been revved up for over a week from the conversations I mentioned above. He was simply wallowing like he normally does. He wasn’t ready for such an insult.

“Let me ask you something. In December of last year, how much were your household and other normal bills?”

“I don’t know. Probably a couple of hundred bucks.”

“What did you pay for?”

“Umm, natural gas for my little fireplace, oil for the boiler, my car payment, groceries, fuel, going out and some other stuff. Why?”

“How did you get the natural gas?”

“I’m not sure. Some company came around and dug up the roads to put pipes in. After that, I got a letter in the mail and they offered me the gas at a pretty decent price. I set up an account. It’s been awesome.”

“The oil?”

“Well, I’ve been getting that for years. A local company delivers it. That and the fireplace keep me nice and snug.”

“Your car payment?”

“Dude, why are you asking me such stupid questions? I got the car by going down to the lot and picking one out. Now I have to pay for it.”

“Okay, last thing. What about the groceries? Where did you get them?”

“At the grocery store. Which, by the way, is becoming way too expensive. They’re ripping me off!”

“Like I said earlier, you’re useless. That’s why you’re complaining about not being happy.”

“Stop insulting me. I didn’t call you for this.”

“I know. You called me because you wanted me to coddle you. You weren’t ready for someone to bring up the fact that you do absolutely nothing to provide for yourself. If someone pulled the carpet out from beneath your feet, you’d be left standing there naked. Why don’t you find heat from fire, transportation from your legs and food from a garden? Perhaps then you’d find some self worth and happiness to boot.”

“Well, you don’t do any of those things you just said I should do. What makes you so special?”

“At least I know why I’m not happy. You have no idea.”

There was a long pause. I understand why too, because people today aren’t ready to hear that they have absolutely no control over their lives. They think that by working for money and then finding creative ways to spend that money, they’re achieving something. It’s exactly the problem my friend has. He’s been led to believe that his work actually means something. What he does for a living. His industry. That it all has a profound impact on the goings on of the world. That it’s not all fluff. That just because it’s popular, it’s necessary.

“I couldn’t possibly do the things you mentioned. I don’t know how to.”

“I understand that, but people 100 years ago had plenty of knowledge how to do those things. That’s why I said you’ve been rendered useless. You’ve been willingly marginalized. And trust me, you’ve gotten plenty used to it because I’m sure that if you had the money, you’d hire someone to clean your house and lift the food from your plate to your mouth.”

For the past few weeks, I’ve been busy linking sentiment with reality. I’ve been wondering how people in one part of the world are, in general, happy people and how people in another part of the world are, in general, unhappy people. It’s striking what I’ve come up with.

I’ve found that people who find themselves useful in their day to day dealings are typically satisfied. And what I mean by “useful” is sort of like how a carpenter finds himself useful. If he needs shelter, he builds it. Or how a farmer finds himself useful. If he needs food, he grows it. If the carpenter fails to build a house and if the farmer fails to grow food, he sleeps outside and he starves, respectively. Someone who is handed shelter and food and who does nothing to earn what he’s handed, is useless and pays the price for being so. Most likely a mental price.

It’s sort of like a spoiled child. We’ve all seen them. Unknowing parents hand these children everything they need, as well as some things they don’t. In return, the child conjures up more things they think they need (or downright want) and if they don’t receive them immediately, they throw a tantrum. You know as well as I know, a spoiled child is in no way happier than a modest one. A modest one is taught to earn and appreciate while a spoiled one is taught to take and complain. My friend is a spoiled child. Month after month, he’s handed every single thing he needs in life and all he has to show for it is bouts of unhappiness. Well, perhaps if he looked inside himself and found ways to make himself more useful and found ways to take control of his life, he’d be more happy.

Not so long ago, I wrote a post describing how I used to work while cutting down trees. Simply put, I would start a job at seven in the morning, work a good day and somewhere around seven at night, I’d find myself in the shower washing off for a nice dinner. During those days, I felt good. I felt useful. I attached my usefulness with my value as a human being. During those days, I felt that I was working hard at satisfying a genuine need, and for that satisfaction, I was rewarded. Not only monetarily, but mentally as well. I was using my arms and my legs, my skills and my strength – everything that had brought me to the point of being able to take care of something I deemed important. I stood out from the crowd as I did this because I knew that what I did wasn’t easy. Not everyone attempted to do what I did and as a matter of fact, a vast majority felt pathetically ill-equipped to even think about it. I was special and dare I say, in some circles, I was important.

I’ve always thought that the people who are happiest among us are those who provide the basic essentials for life as we know it. And beyond that, I think that the small group of people who provide those essentials for themselves, are even happier. I’m not talking about frivolous technology, gadgets and pet puppies. I’m talking about food, shelter and heat. I’m talking about community and social structure. The basics are what the mind responds to, as opposed to an unnecessary fabrication.

It’s funny, because for far too long, I’ve been watching people (myself included) mope around while trying to find things to satisfy themselves in their short lives on earth. We can’t seem to put our fingers on what exactly we’re missing here, but we all seem to know that something’s amiss. A few of us choose to deal with it by developing hobbies and a few of us deal with it by simply keeping busy. Others deal with it by abusing various things. Something’s for sure though – each and every day we continue down the path we’re on, our personal environment is bound to suffer. Each and every day we’re handed something to make life “easier,” we’re actually doing damage…

…each and every day I call my sister’s cell phone to speak directly to her, my brother-in-law doesn’t have a chance to answer the house phone, creating another day we don’t hear each other’s voices. Each and every day I read a book on a tablet or smart phone is another day I don’t visit a used book store and smell the scent of dust and aging pages. Each and every day we watch a movie online and fall asleep half way through is another day we don’t feel the excitement of going out to a movie theater, holding hands and giving each other a long kiss at the end of our date. Each and every day I purchase and eat pre-packaged food is another day I don’t stop to consider where the food came from, who grew it and whether or not it’s good for me. Each and every day I adjust a thermostat is another day I don’t go down to a local swimming hole to get cool or head outside to cut firewood to stay warm. Each and every day we succumb to the “solutions” people have created for us, we suck the romance out of our lives and steal and very vibrance we once had. The vibrance that we remember all too well and the vibrance we want back so so badly.

It’s no wonder my friend called me to complain. He had no idea what he was doing. He was simply sitting in a house that was built for him on a telephone that was created for him in a chair that was handed to him in front of a computer that was sold to him breathing air that just happened to be here the day he was born.

It’s funny, every time Summer rolls around, I dream of taking very long vacations while snowmobiling in the Arctic and every time Winter rolls around, I dream of disappearing to some tropical island while laying on the beach all day. Unfortunately, I’m a forgetful person. I forget about about the humidity that Summer brings and I forget about how Winter chills my bones. What I’m left with is a long, drawn out life of wishing I was somewhere else.

There have been a few days though, that find themselves somewhere in between Summer and Winter that are perfect. I’ve written about them on a number of occasions and they usually revolve around me relaxing on my hammock up North. They only come around every so often, but when they do, they’re of glorious perfection – and often termed, “the nicest days of the year.”

—

A few days ago, I decided to start going through all the things I brought with me to Florida. I wanted to see if I really needed them or not. I did such a good job of getting rid of almost everything I owned while in Connecticut, but while up there, I eventually became tired and started tossing things I didn’t want or need on an already over-packed trailer. I knew I’d have to sift through my belongings once more when I arrived in Florida, but what to do with what I found was anyone’s guess. Giving things away to people up North is a much simpler task than it is down South. Here, people just don’t have the room for what I’d like to part with. I’d even venture to say that folks aren’t as active with the same interests in this part of the world.

I managed to find three items that I wanted out of my existence. My Stihl backpack blower, my Slik Tripod and my Sure-Trac trailer. I’ve written about all three of these things during various points of my life. While they are all of the best quality and still practically brand new, I just don’t see any point in having them sit around taking up my breathing room. I decided to list them on the Daytona, Jacksonville and Orlando sections of Craigslist.

I listed the backpack blower first and asked $100 for it. While it cost around $300 five years ago and is in excellent condition, I felt that at the price I was asking, I’d get great response and I’d meet the goal I set out for myself – to get rid of stuff. Within fifteen minutes of listing the blower, I received approximately ten responses. I couldn’t believe it. People from all over were asking me if I still had it available. I eventually, and come to find out – too early, responded to someone who I promised the blower to. I say, “too early” because I had offers of $200, which I had to reject because of my earlier promise. I sold the blower yesterday.

The funny thing is, as the days went by, I continuously received inquiries for the item I was selling. I’d say that overall, I got about 150 replies. Not bad for one listing. There were three or four replies for the tripod and the same for the trailer. I have to meet someone today at 4:15 to unload the tripod and a fellow is stopping by tonight for the trailer. Who knew that actually offering up one’s items for sale online would garner such a response? (Update: I have sold all my items. The trailer just left a few minutes ago.)

—

I think my goal is to get even leaner than I was when I left Connecticut. Thinking of what I purchased in a previous life makes me sad. I see so many people who are still trapped in the cycle, out there on the roads alongside me, pulling in and out of shopping centers – spending money they don’t have. The horrible habit of “purchasing” has increased exponentially from when I was a kid – it’s truly become a greater and greater distraction for the country at large. Rarely does a day go by when I don’t talk to a friend who tells me about their latest and greatest acquisition. Every time I listen to them speak, I nod my head in shame and think along the lines of how bad what they’re saying makes me feel. It’s almost as if the word, “materialistic” has disappeared from our language. It seems like goods and products have taken over our lives, just at the time when most of us need less than we ever have before.

It’s weird and I’ll be honest when I say that it isn’t the easiest thing to figure out.

I’m sure people think I’m crazy. We still don’t have a couch. Laura sits on the floor and works on the computer. It’s not that we can’t get one, it’s just that I think I’m making a point in this, what I view as a, pathetic excuse for what is. Laura watches me as I mutter things like, “This can’t be it. I surely couldn’t have been put on this green earth simply to buy things and to shuffle through the things others have bought.”

Where’s the standard? Where are the lessons I learned when I was a kid? Don’t let that money burn a hole in your pocket and materialism is a sin! Even in the books I read, there are lessons woven into each page. It’s as if the author is speaking directly to me when he says that “things” aren’t my identity. “I” am my identity. Who I am. What I do. Not the fact that I shop at Super Target and that I happened to get a nice kitchen pan on sale at a great price.

About six months ago, I woke up one morning and told her that I didn’t want any of it. I looked around the house we lived in – looked in the living room that held the couches and the tables, the office that held multiple filing cabinets and my chair and desk, the bedrooms that held dressers and beds – and I said that we should get rid of it all. I told her that all the stuff we accumulated through the years made me feel cheap and that I had somehow lost my way. I warned her that if I had somehow developed an overwhelming urge to keep the things I knew I should get rid of, that I was certainly overtaken by something, because I knew I shouldn’t have such a connection to material things.

Within two months, I had unloaded most of what I owned on a few friends of mine. They didn’t ask questions and neither did I. For all they knew, I had lost my marbles – and for all I knew, they were doing me a huge favor in getting my life back to where I thought it should be – out of the grips of a big, nasty monster called consumption.

—

I don’t ask people to come over to the house down here. It’s empty. I don’t want to hear the comments or the questions.

“Why don’t you get something to sit on?”

“Because I feel better on the floor.”

“Where’s your bed?”

“Right there. You can’t see it?”

It’s different. It’s like going through withdrawal. A withdrawal I think we all need to go through at one point in time or another.

I spoke with my friend, Craig, yesterday. I told him about selling my stuff and how I had planned to sell more. He made his usual comments on what I was doing.

“You just don’t want anything, do you?”

“I truly don’t.”

“My grandmother did the same thing before she died. She gave away every last thing she owned. You’re not dying, are you?”

“Not that I know of. But if I were, at least I’d be ready.”

It’s almost comical the way people react to how I’ve chosen to deal with today’s society. I generally only get half way through a sentence before they start defending what they own. Makes me sometimes wonder why they’re so defensive. We’ll see what happens. I’m just sure that there are some things I need to get through before I can move on with my life. Moving away from “buying” and towards “doing” is a big one.

—

On my way to Jiu-Jitsu practice yesterday, I passed by a house that sits about a quarter mile away from ours. It’s in the same neighborhood as we live and I have to drive by every time I leave. It’s a nice house. It looks just like all the others.

More often than not, I see an older couple sitting inside their garage, behind one of those garage door screens you can buy to make your garage more of a screen room. In this garage, there are three plastic chairs lined up in a row – side by side. The chairs have been lined up like that since the day we moved in and as I just mentioned above, the older folks sit in them. They just sit. They sit there and look out through that screen waiting for time to pass on by.

When we first rolled into town and after I saw the couple sitting in their garage, I thought it was nice. I remember mentioning to Laura how content they looked. How they had found a nice place to live and how they had truly figured things out. But each and every time I drive or walk by their house and see them sitting in those chairs, not saying a word to each other, I feel less and less enthusiastic about what they’re doing. And yesterday, I launched into a tirade at my good friend Seth, who had unfortunately answered the phone right after I had seen the couple one last time.

“These people haven’t done a damn thing since we showed up! What are they waiting for?”

“I don’t know man. A lot of people do that. They just chill out.”

“Then why are they here? What are they doing? What’s their purpose?”

Things like this really get to me. It’s true that I wave when I drive by and they wave back, but what I really want to do is to stop my car, get out and walk over to them to ask exactly what their plan is. I want to know if they’re simply waging a battle with the clock, because whether they know it or not, the clock is going to win. They can’t simply sit there for the rest of their lives and do nothing.

Or maybe they can. Maybe they can and maybe that’s their plan. I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time.

—

After I got out of Jiu-Jitsu, I gave my brother Jeff a call. I hadn’t talked to him in a while and I thought it was high time for us to catch up. I dialed, he answered and we got into it.

He asked me how Florida was. I gave my usual generic response.

“You know – it is what it is. It’s serving its purpose.”

“What do you mean? You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s just that we’re doing what we’re doing. Just as if we were sitting in a house up in Connecticut, we’re sitting in a house in Florida. It’s here and we’re here.”

People don’t like when I talk like that. Nebulous. Jeff was fine with it though and I actually think he was amused by what I was saying. But in general, if I don’t make something up that leads someone to believe that I’m having the time of my life, they become uncomfortable. I suppose they want me to be enjoying things and they want me to be settled. I get that, but what I also get is that sometimes life is just there. I get that I don’t always need to be hunting for happiness.

After I joked around for a while regarding my living situation, we talked about the Appalachian Trail, my dream of hiking it ever since I graduated college and how I miss the mountains. I know it’s only been a few months, but what I can’t have is having an impact. But like he mentioned, the hills of North Georgia are only a few hours away. And like I mentioned directly after what he mentioned, I’d like to have the right to simply miss the mountains. Without a suggestion as to how to quench the feeling. He got what I was saying and we moved on.

He told me about how if he ever got the chance, he’d hike the trail. He became enthusiastic in talking about it and started talking about the Shenandoah Valley – where he lives. He told me how he’s really enjoying learning about the history of the area and about how he fills a few gallon jugs with local spring water about once a month. The spring comes out of the side of the mountain nearby and it’s been a hot spot for locals ever since it was discovered. He told me about how he doesn’t like water in general, but the water from the spring actually tastes good. I confess that I became a bit nostalgic with what he was saying and most likely ruined the mood when I mentioned that I had about nine filters hooked up to our tap water.

“It tastes like chlorine if we don’t have the filters.”

Again, he got what I was saying and we moved on. Sometimes it’s good to have a big brother to talk to when I want to vent in a non-judged kind of way. I can be honest with him and that feels pretty good. Over the years, he’s gotten past the urge to put me on a shelf somewhere, in a place he can get used to in an effort to know where he can visit. He seems to have gotten used to the idea that I’m searching for something and when I find it, I’ll let the world know. And he seems to have gotten the fact that the two of us are much more similar than we’ve led on.

I don’t want to beat a dead horse here, but I seriously underestimated popular sentiment when it comes to this Crocs and dudes thing. I mean, just yesterday I was a lonely guy living in Connecticut who happened to be wearing a pair of rubber shoes – but today – BAM – public enemy number one. Listen to this…

I was just downstairs finishing up dinner when I decided to pull out my cell phone. I did a quick Google search for “Men Who Wear Crocs.” That’s the post I wrote yesterday. The reason I searched for that particular text was merely to see if my post ranked for anything. It was a simple request. A simple concern. But nothing is ever quite so simple.

Do you know what I found instead of my post? I found 7 pages of results that told me exactly what America thinks of people like me. It’s heartbreaking but hilarious as the same time. As I paged through the results, I thought of ways to creatively bring you in on the action. I wasn’t able to come up with anything other than a simple copy/paste job of a few of the more precious nuggets. You have to see these.

Badass Dudes Who Wear Crocs! What Has Men’s Celeb Fashion Come To?
Crocs, those rubbery clog things with circular cut outs and thick straps, started out in local backyards as a gardening shoe and somehow made it out of its white picket fenced weekend confines…

Curse of Crocs: Why middle-aged men wear the ugliest shoes ever invented
Worn by the like of Jack Nicholson and George W. Bush, they’re the ugliest shoes ever invented…

Guys who wear Crocs
Ok,it’s bad enough people wear them and women can slide but guys wearing Crocs is just…….well,ya know.

And now just for some headlines.

– Gay or not – should men wear crocs?

– Crocs: Shoes for People Who’ve Given Up

– Guys who wear crocs are a little light in the loafers

– Things Men Shouldn’t Wear

And there’s a website dedicated to being against Crocs, and an Urban Dictionary page just for them. It’s awesome. And then we have the Anti-Croc movement itself.

Honestly, I’m find it difficult to keep up.

A few weeks ago, I had a little problem. I don’t have it anymore because I solved it, but up until a few weeks ago, it was driving me crazy.

I like to wear slippers. No, not the big fuzzy ones that have stuffed animals attached to the fronts, but regular old, plain Jane slippers. The type you’d see on an old man walking around a nursing home. I’ve worn my fair share too. Probably about three or four pairs since I began my slipper campaign in earnest. Before that, I walked around with bare feet and complained that I was cold all the time.

Starting a couple of years ago, Amazon has been my choice venue for slipper purchases. It sure beat walking through the shoe department of Wal-Mart trying to find something that wouldn’t make me want to cry. And finding the right size in a store like that? Shuffling through the open boxes overflowing with unwrapped tissue paper? I don’t think so. I did that once and forced with experiencing that again, I’d rather go barefoot.

If you’ve ever worn slippers, you know the whole ordeal can be challenging. If you forget, or just don’t want to, wear socks, you end up with swamp foot. Or otherwise more affectionately known as “Jungle Rot.” Look it up. You know what I’m talking about.

I guess what I’m saying here, and I’m really trying hard to hold back, is that after a while, slippers get pretty disgusting. A few times of going barefoot in those suckers and they’re done. No matter how many times you try to bleach them in the washing machine. It’s funny how the once furry and soft bottoms can’t quite seem to rebound after a few weeks or months – no matter what you do to them.

Since I’m an idea man, I decided to start thinking of ways to solve my issue. I first eliminated the slipper in its entirety. After all the pairs I’ve been through, and to no avail, I felt it was time to move on. But I also needed something to replace it. Since the fabric bottoms of the slippers were the main culprits, I knew I needed to go with some sort of a rubberized sole. Sandals, flip-flops and that sort of thing seemed the most reasonable.

A few weeks ago, Laura started talking about getting a pair of Crocs. You know what Crocs are and if you don’t, just do a quick search. Or, just walk into any middle school in America and look at the feet of the students who attend. You’ll quickly learn of what I’m talking about here.

Anyway, the reason that Laura had brought up the idea of wearing Crocs was because her own sandals had decided to bite the dust. I tried to save them once with “Shoe-Goo” but they were in worse shape than either of us were aware. The day I picked them up off the floor and tossed them in the garbage was the same day we both made orders for two pairs of Crocs.

By the way, during your search to learn about Crocs, you can also learn about their benefits. Mighty comfortable they are.

I received mine before she received hers. I felt horrible about wearing my sweet pair of indoor/outdoor shoes in front of her as she walked around with sneakers or no shoes at all. It wasn’t my fault though – Amazon had what I wanted, but only Crocs.com had something for her. Amazon’s shipping was fast, Crocs.com’s wasn’t.

She did eventually receive hers though. And ever since, we’ve been as happy as pearls in a clam. We can now easily walk around pretty much anywhere we want without trading shoes. Take a walk up the road? Covered. Pass through a gym shower? Covered. Go for a stroll on the beach? Covered. I think you get the idea here. They’re extremely versatile.

Things have been pretty good since I started wearing my Crocs. The first time I slid my feet into them I was amazed at how natural they felt. What people had said in the reviews was true. Crocs are remarkable. They’re light and the way the foot sits inside makes you feel like you aren’t wearing anything at all. As I said, things were good…until I wanted to run out to the food store to pick up a few things.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to head out to grab some bagels and eggs.”

“When are you going?”

“Right now – you need anything?”

“In those shoes?”

“Why? What’s the matter with wearing these?”

As I was standing there in the kitchen, it hit me. I had a passing thought of walking through the doors of the grocery store and having people look at me. Especially the kids. For some reason I thought the kids would look at my shoes and give their mothers a slight nudge with the elbow.

“Hey ma, look what that guy is wearing. CROCS!!!”

It sort of reminded me of those dreams we all have of sitting in class in elementary school in our pajamas.

I thought about it for a second or two and slowly asked, “Hey, do dudes wear these things?”

She responded that she didn’t know but we both agreed that until we found out more, I shouldn’t risk wearing them out in public. I want to though and that’s going to be a problem.

I did some research last night. I searched Google for things like, “Do men wear Crocs?” and “Men who wear Crocs.” My findings weren’t all too positive.

From what I can gather, if I decided to wear my Crocs in front of a 7th grade girl, she might think I was treading on her turf. She would most definitely be wearing a pair of her own. It would be like two girls wearing the same dress to the prom.

Now, if I were to do the same thing in front of a 7th grade boy, he’d give me the finger. Boys don’t wear them. Boys who dress themselves anyway. They also don’t appreciate those who do.

If I were to head into a high school lunchroom wearing my Crocs, no one would think I was “amusing” for pulling what I was trying to pull. There comes a time in everyone’s life when they reject Crocs altogether. But lucky for me, that time passes.

Now, from what I learned last night, people’s temperament for Crocs mellows out as they get older. As adults have come to find value in sneakers with Velcro instead of shoelaces and dungarees that tighten around the waist by taking advantage of elastic instead of a belt, they’ve also found value in Crocs. I read stories written by women who swear up and down that Crocs have saved their husband’s feet. Women who work in industry who wear Crocs all day long. Women who stand for hours on end have been saved by the mere thought of wearing Crocs.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that, from what I learned last night, as one gets older, they mind less about what a 7th grader or a 12th grader thinks of what they’re wearing on their feet. They go for comfort and utility as opposed to fashion. I suppose I fall into the latter group because I haven’t cared about what I look like for years. Now, don’t get me wrong, I look good, but that’s nature’s doing, not my own.

I do want to mention on thing though. There are rather rabid elements out there who will never rise to the level of wearing what they may come to love. For them, their robust appearance trumps all. And what I’m talking about here is in reference to a blog post I read last night that…well, you should read it for yourself. It’s hilarious and I think you’ll have a good time. It’s called, “Crocs and Clogs” and was posted on “To Every Man A Manswer (which is now defunct).”

I have yet to wear my Crocs outside past the mailbox, but I want to. And I plan to. Just as soon as I see another guy out there wearing the same thing. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find though. Where I’m currently stationed…yeah, we’ve got dudes who wear Crocs.

A few days ago, I took a trip out to Martha’s Vineyard. We left Rhode Island on a ferry and arrived at the Vineyard about an hour and forty minutes later. It was a nice day.

On the ferry, there were all sorts of characters. I’m sure you can imagine the bunch. From the golfers to the strange lady with the Golden Retriever…they were all there. Needless to say, practically everyone on the boat was more wealthy than I. An eccentric group, if you will.

As I sat on the center deck, leaning over with my head in my hands, trying to grab some shuteye, a small group of semi-rowdy middle aged men were discussing the origins of the universe. I thought this was apropos because we were all getting a little loose by the thought of going somewhere so exciting.

As I sat there, listening, my ears perked up. I had my eyes closed as to not give them any indication I was in fact attuned to their conversation. Now, let me tell you, when anyone begins a conversation regarding the beginning of space’s great expanse, it’s difficult not to salivate over the soon-to-be learned theories. Unfortunately, the first few sentences is basically where the intelligence of this conversation began and ended.

The louder and more outgoing of the group gave his theory. He said that god made the universe. Not one god in particular, but any god would do. Okay. That’s one theory. Now, from what I have gathered throughout my life, there is only one other available theory about how the universe was born…”it was alway here.” This is where things got slippery.

As the conversation progressed and theories flew in from left field, the group of men became more subdued in their vocalism. They began to engage in “groupthink.” By this I mean they started to realize there were no real answers and they wanted to get back on the same playing field so they could move on with their day. Also, after a while, the conversation was pretty much beat.

Towards the end of the discussion, the leader of the group said something along the lines of, “Well, there is nothing that has always been in existence. Nothing can just be. A god had to have created the universe.” Of course, this is the point a small smile formed from my lips.

If you have ever heard the term, Self-Defeating Statement before, you will know that it means: A self-defeating (or self-refuting) statement is a statement that fails to meet its own standard. In other words, it kind of cancels itself out.

This is a very interesting tidbit of education because once you learn what self-defeating statements are, you begin to recognize them almost everywhere. You can poke holes in people’s logic and become a much more effective conversationalist and debater.

A famous example of a self defeating statement is: There is no truth. (Thank you Apologetic Junkie) As you can see, if there was no truth, the statement, “There is no truth” would be false. The statement cancelled itself out by what it said.

So, back to what was said on the boat – “Well, there is nothing that has always been in existence. Nothing can just be. A god had to have created the universe.”

Let’s take this statement apart. When this fella said, “Well, there is nothing that has always been in existence.” he may have been correct. We haven’t a clue if there is or isn’t anything that has existed forever. It’s a very debatable point (actually it’s not since we have no evidence). After that, he said, “Nothing can just be.” He may have been correct about that as well. While this is nothing more than a wild guess, I couldn’t offer anything that would have convinced him that he was wrong. He got into trouble when he said, “A god had to have created the universe.”

Now, the statement “A god had to have created the universe.” isn’t self-defeating by itself. It’s actually quite similar to this gentleman’s first two statements. It’s the connectedness of the statements that made the last one self-defeating. Does that make sense? If nothing has been in existence forever and if nothing can just be, where did these gods come from?

As a side note, this is what has always made me wonder about the big bang theory. If the universe was created by a chunk of mass exploding, where did that chunk of mass come from? The chain of questions goes on and on.

It’s a tough world out there. So many of us try to mix logic with faith with emotion with everyday life. It’s challenging to say the least. I think the safest thing to say is that we are all wrong a good percentage of the time. That’s okay, because we are nothing more than human and as we all know, “to err is human…”

I hope you enjoyed my post about self-defeating statements. If you are a philosophy buff and would like to add or correct anything, I surely would welcome your comment.

A few weeks ago, I was doing a little research on the meaning of “Virtue.” This isn’t a word I use all too often (or ever), but have been noticing its use more and more around the internet. It’s fairly common for me to investigate something’s meaning if I feel it’s important to today’s world.

Basically, virtue is a standard that some people might choose to live up to. Of course, it’s much more complex than that (if you choose it to be) and you can look up its full meaning here.

After reading and understanding what virtue is all about, I started thinking about how difficult it is for those of us to live virtuous lives. It might not be all too much of a challenge to actually identify what’s right and wrong, according to our own moral standard; I believe the challenge lies with how to identify virtuous acts in today’s complex and tightly woven world.

Let’s face it, the playing field has changed. In this day and age, attempting to gather data and make a choice on who benefits the most from a single decision is almost impossible. Just ask and business person or politician. It’s only getting more and more difficult every day. Things are so large now that the network of choices and ramifications is hard to imagine.

Here’s a silly little example I just thought of while looking out the window: Should I help that little old lady across the street? Well, that depends on much traffic there is. Will I be in danger? Should she be walking across the street at this time of day as it is? Does she even need help, or will she be offended? Did she just do something bad and is trying to get away?

Just from this short example, you can get an idea of how troublesome every decision you make can be when there are such questions to be answered.

I think I found some help. I came up with an idea after receiving an email from my mother a few days ago. She visited earlier in the month and wrote a thank you email that included something like, “…good food, good people, good memories.” After I read this, I started thinking about how memories can be used to measure virtue.

Throughout life, we become smarter. The reason we become smarter is because we learn from past successes and failures. If we continuously look back to measure the effect on others around us regarding the larger decisions we make, we can see if we made the right decision. I believe this fits with living a virtuous lifestyle. Everything we do affects others and ourselves. If we use memories to gauge how we feel after we do something, we can alter future actions. Does that make sense?