Whoa-oh-oh, Listen to the Music

You know what I miss? I mean other than Johnny Quest? The drive-in. Fond memories of dad and mom pulling up to that metal pole and taking that speaker and hanging it on the window. There was always static when you turned up the volume. It was only slightly more annoying than when the sound of the movie came out of it. Our movies always started with a "thump thump thump" sound coming from the trunk. My brothers. My dad said why pay full price when 3 of you fit in the trunk. He was good with money that way. My mom took me to see Godzilla at the drive in once. That my friend, is real love. I hear they're reopening the drive-in again down in Ocala. That was 6 months ago and I still haven't heard. I hope so though. I want to go. I'm too old to steam up the windows now days but I can pass gas without causing a commotion.

I had breakfast with my friend Neil this week. Neil is a really neat guy. Really smart. We started a couple of weeks ago meeting for breakfast for food, encouragement, friendship. Good stuff. But the coffee's not. May have to change venues. It's a buffet but I don't think I get my $7 worth. Buffets are best left for the evening hour when you can pack it in, go home and recline in the lazyboy and really let the fat settle in around those thighs and hips.

Whether it's the drive-in or the theater I like to see those inspirational movies where the underdog comes from obscurity to best the champ. Like Rocky. Chariots of fire. Or when Peter Parker beat Bonesaw in the steel cage match. The one I think I like the best is Invincible with Mark Walburg. Football movie. Great 70's music. The one thing most of these movies have in common is when these characters pick themselves up by the boot straps (what exactly are boot straps) and start transforming from a weak nobody to the victor there is this great music in the background motivating them on. Who can run up a flight of steps or punch a side of beef without hearing the Rocky theme? When I hear one of these songs there's something in my mind that rises up and makes me want to work hard. To fight on. Need to get that stuff on my MP3.

We had a cookout at a friends house on Memorial day and had a really nice time. Great conversation and we talked some about how I've been feeling of late. Great questions asked and I got to say out loud what I've been thinking to myself and have people listen and say some encouraging words. Bright words. Good friends. Should do this more often. A lot more.

So I'm working last week off a ladder, thinking about theme music and how I want to make changes to my life and how I feel like one of the underdogs and I have so far to go. Again. Probably only a few of us out there who are always starting over 'cause we forget to try hard and find ourselves back at the start. If we just had that music. That music that makes you fight, sweat, push yourself harder than you knew you could, do thing you didn't know you could. Be inspired just like you feel when you watch the movie. Theme music.

"You have that" my Dad says. "You are that. Sorta". "You SHOULD be that". Your friend Neil is the music. Your pool party friends are. The people who care for you are. The church is your music. Or at least should be. They are the ones who come into your life and encourage and inspire you to greater deeds. Push and pull you into places you thought not possible. It's why I made 'em. And you too. Find your brothers and sisters, your wife and kids and spur them on into a deeper walk with Me. Be that music in their ear." And in His best Forrest Gump voice He said "That's all I got to say about that". 'nuff said.

Mr. Poopy Pants

It's been a while. January 17 to be exact. Since I wrote anything I mean. I was driving in the car tonight thinking about writing and how much I like it. Or the idea of it anyway. Some days back last year when I was writing an idea would lodge itself in my mine and I couldn't wait to get home and start writing and mostly I didn't really know where I was going with the thought or idea but it just came out. Admittedly none of my writing is all that good but it felt so good to get it out. I was beginning I had something worth some value. (I have lots worth value but this was a new and shiny thing of value). Then I stopped.

Can I be gross? Sure, why not you say. I can say you say 'cause it's my blog. And I'm a boy at heart and this is what goes through my mind. Constipation. I've not been constipated much in my life, thank God. Diarrhea, sure lots. If you eat like I do, well... . I have a great digestive system so being plugged up doesn't happen that often but when it does, MAN! I sit on the pot and wait and wait, grit my teeth and groan and...well, you get the picture. Told you I was gross. So I sit and wait and wait for that magical POP when my intestines let go of what they've for too long held onto. Ok. Enough.

I'm kind of in depression. I think. Really I'm not sure what depression is But I sorta feel bummed out a lot and can't seem to get motivated to do lots. It feels like there's no life in my life which isn't true but it sure feels that way. And I avoid people more than I ought because I don't want to lie, "...Great Shirley, how are you...?" or dump on someone"...don't ask how he is Frank, he'll unload..." so I stay around the fringes. And It's lonely out here. Life is hard and sometimes doesn't turn out like you imagine. You think you can deal with a hard marriage, hard job, mediocre and getting worse health but at some point some of run out of steam and you want to retire to the lazyboy and just melt into history. How I feel some days. I posted once that midlife crisis is realizing that you're not all that, and you don't have the strength or energy to become half of what people think you are. I feel that way. But I am special. I am talented and gifted and have much to offer, for a long time. I hope. I doesn't really matter what people think I guess. Really just matters what my Dad says. He likes me.

So here I sit in front of the keyboard hoping to write something. Sigh. It's been a long time. Lots of times I've sat here over the last months with my fingers (well, just the typing two) poised over the keys waiting for magic words to appear in my mind and I draw blanks. Nothing. Nada. Mind constipation, trying to squeeze something out but all I get are the shakes and sweats. Bummer. And I bought all this mind toilet paper to use. Someday soon......