tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81404673619304842742024-02-20T13:28:41.777-08:00Becoming a better manAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-23334318887002558302013-12-29T19:01:00.003-08:002013-12-29T19:01:39.000-08:00The new sites are live!After much frustration, aggravation and caffeine... I have reworked both websites. Take a minute to check in and let me know what you think. Over 150 posts this year between the two.<br />
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For the men who want to be better husbands...<br />
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<a href="http://erikmatlock.com/" target="_blank">Erikmatlock.com</a><br />
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For those poor souls who have decided to make a career of audio or video production....<br />
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<a href="http://artofthesoundcheck.com/" target="_blank">Artofthesoundcheck.com</a><br />
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And my first book is done.<br />
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/interview/Erikmatlock" target="_blank">The Art of the Soundcheck book</a><br />
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Thanks for all the support guys.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-81458977373346340782013-07-14T18:34:00.003-07:002013-07-14T18:34:56.170-07:00I am moving it all over to WordpressI have been reduced to doing all my work on an iPad. Blogger is a massive pain to edit and write when all you have is an iPad.<br />
The last few posts wouldn't even load properly. I surrender.<br />
So. From here on, except for an occasional update, everything goes to Wordpress only.<br />
There are already several new ones that aren't on here.<br />
Go see.....<br />
<a href="http://erikmatlock.com/" target="_blank">Erik's Blog</a><br />
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I have also started a second blog about my time in the pro audio world. Some advice and tips for the new guys in live sound and studio work.<br />
<a href="http://artofthesoundcheck.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">The Art of the Soundcheck</a><br />
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I had hoped to post on blogger and Wordpress simultaneously, but blogger is just too aggravating.<br />
Feel free to visit the other sites. ThanksAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-88511188452184236312013-07-06T08:19:00.001-07:002013-07-06T08:19:33.719-07:00The main reason you aren't scoring brownie points<br />
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A pastor explained something to me years ago that was pretty simple. Should have figured this out on my own. There's a big difference in doing a good thing versus doing the right thing. Sometimes it's the same. Kinda like they told me in school about squares and rectangles. A rectangle is always a square but a square isn't always a rectangle. Something like that. The right thing is always a good thing but a good thing isn't always the right thing. </div>
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Example. I come home, the family is at the grocery store picking up stuff for dinner. I have the house to myself. The kitchen is a mess. In anticipation of the family returning home soon to cook dinner, I clean the kitchen. Even though email and the sofa and the Xbox are patiently waiting for me, I clean up the kitchen. Then hit the sofa. </div>
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That is an example of doing the right thing and a good thing. Wife comes home, pleasantly surprised. Life is good. Brownie points achieved. Yay me. I could do a good thing and still blow it. If she had asked me to clean the kitchen, and I didn't, that's bad. Ignoring a request from your wife is a bad thing. ( sorry if I sound like a preschool teacher here ) We are going to train our brain to do the right thing. Not just good things. Here's the difference. </div>
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If she asked me to wash the dishes, I could go in there with great intentions and wipe the counters. I could run through the house, grab all the dirty laundry and wash it. I could clean out the refrigerator. I could mop the floor. I could mow the lawn, wash the car, paint the house, cure cancer and save the world from imminent doom. I could do any number of amazing things, worthy of brownie points, and she would not be impressed. Even though we did a lot of GOOD stuff, we didn't do the RIGHT stuff. Most guys still don't understand this. We did something great, where's my pat on the head? </div>
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She comes in with groceries. Walks past all our achievements, and stares at a sink full of dirty dishes. She is not happy. Even though we may have just produced our greatest life's work, she isn't impressed. We sometimes confuse that response with not being appreciated. We sometimes make up pet names to mutter under our breath during those times. We sometimes get stressed enough to vow that we will never do anything for her again. We have those kind of thoughts. We assume we did something good, we should be thanked or rewarded. Yeah, like toddlers or something. </div>
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What does she expect from us? Why isn't she thankful? Because she asked us to wash the dishes. We agreed to wash the dishes. There are still dirty dishes in the sink. She is not happy. How is it possible that a few dirty dishes can cause so much stress in the house? Because it proves we aren't listening. It tells her that she isn't our priority. It tells her we will be good husbands, but on our own terms. We will do things that we choose or that benefit us. Not just because she asked or to be good to her. Doing good stuff is still good, but if it's not the right stuff, it's kinds the wrong stuff. </div>
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Does that make us bad husbands, monsters, for not washing dishes? Nope. It just means that we aren't listening. It means that we still have work to do, if we are going to become the man of her dreams. It means that we still haven't put her into the proper place in our world. She is that important. Every little thing we do tells her how we feel about her. Make it count. Watch for opportunities to do the good stuff. Make sure it's the right stuff. </div>
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You might want to read this one, too.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22http://erikmatlock.wordpress.com/2013/01/30/no-expectations/%22%3ENo%20Expectations%3C/a%3E" target="_blank">No expectations</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-33027373286340200682013-07-02T21:13:00.003-07:002013-07-02T21:13:57.749-07:00A night on the town with Bozo the clown<br />
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Just a quick observation. Recently went back through some old photos. Yeah. Photo albums. Not on a computer. In fact, before we really knew what a computer was. I noticed something. I dressed like a clown. I actually found a picture of myself wearing zigzag striped, yellow and blue Bermuda shorts with half a black mesh shirt. That was scary looking when I was 175 pounds. Can't imagine what I would look like in those at 225. </div>
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Through all those pictures, I looked like a four year old boy picked out my clothes. Even when my clothes weren't ridiculous, my hair or beard still ruined it. Even my tuxedo at the wedding was goofy. I intentionally picked the same one John Lennon wore on the Abbey Road album cover. Fortunately, they talked me into wearing shoes. But. Have you ever seen someone wear size 13, white, leather shoes? If they had been red, they would have been clown shoes. </div>
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Even farther back, I found high school pictures. Wow. We have tried to convince our children that there was a time when we were cool. If they find these pictures, that argument is dead. We were 80's kids then. Just like now, influenced by movies and music. Pick random music and movies produced between 1983 and 1989, then find pictures from a mall the same year. ( try here. <a href="http://www.lifelounge.com.au/photography/news/michael-galinksy-photographed-1980s-malls.aspx#gallerytop">80's mall photos</a> ) Looks like the cast of Fast times at ridgemont high. </div>
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Yes, there's a point. Bozo. Not the classic sharp dressed man. I took my wife on dates dressed like an idiot. I married her looking like a dork. We visited relatives while I dresses like a toddler. I have been seen in public, on hundreds of occasions, looking like I robbed a clown and took his clothes. Dang. Even now. I realized I am wearing the same worn out shirt and basketball shorts I wear around the house constantly. I used to go out in public with this on. As recent as last week. What kind of logic pushes us, as men, to choose our appearance? Why do Hollywood celebrities hire people to dress them? Because they don't want to look like a clown. </div>
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And what's up with the clothing choices as we age? Young guys emulate the actors and singers in their clothes. Middle age guys wear work clothes or pajamas all day. The old guys wear whatever is comfortable. Nobody seems very concerned about how they look to anyone but themselves. Honestly, I still have work to do in this area. A lot of work. But, I understand it now. I see what she has been living with. </div>
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I live in Florida. The standard dress code for men here is this: partially unbuttoned printed shirt, random shorts, sandals, five o'clock shadow and the aroma of someone who ran out of deodorant several days ago. These guys are in public with their wives. The wives apparently surrender and quit caring about their appearance at some point, too. I guess they got tired of resisting and let themselves go. </div>
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Not trying to make a big, life changing commentary on this one. Just an observation. Our wives have given themselves to us. We are their "prize." They have to be seen with us sooner or later. For most women, their whole identity is wrapped around their husband and kids. They deserve to have a better looking husband than what we have given them. We shouldn't be an embarrassment to them. Not in our words and actions, or appearance. Our wives shouldn't feel the need to apologize to everyone they meet in public. ( "You will have to excuse him. He's really a good man. He's just trapped at the emotional level of a three year old and dresses like people on 80's tv shows. He should grow out of it in 30-40 years. ) </div>
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The only suggestion here is to ask her opinion. If you have been a butthead to her for years, she will hesitate to give it. After she sees you actually listen a few times, you might get her honest opinion. When you get a haircut, ask her what she thinks BEFORE you get the mullet again. When you pick out clothes, ask her opinion BEFORE you get the striped shirt and plaid shorts. When you pick out a car, house, neighborhood, etc., ask her opinion. Make it easy on yourself. Ask her BEFORE you have made up your mind. Let her be part of the process. Then listen. If it has to be your way, your choice, your logic, your decision or whatever, it's probably your funeral. Her opinion is worth as much as yours. Her life is as valuable. Every minute of her life is valuable. Don't make her waste it on time with a clown that won't listen to her opinion.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-18517122239854951392013-06-28T20:24:00.002-07:002013-06-28T20:24:34.454-07:00Preaching the gospel of intolerance<br />
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Yes. That's right. I am intolerant. Go ahead and get mad now. Start making up your opinions of me. All set? Good. Here we go. </div>
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When I say intolerance, you already have some preconceived notion of what I mean. I am pretty sure this isn't what you are thinking. It's not racism or anything like that. Hardly. It's about deciding what kind of world we want to live in and doing something about it. </div>
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My dad told me that my freedom only goes as far as the next guy's nose. He meant that we are free to do what we want until it affects other people. We don't have the right to interfere with someone else's freedom. Pretty good advice. Another guy told me something else. Pastor Don Thomas in Macon, GA said this. "The things we tolerate are the things we allow to exist." He was speaking about things in out life that need to change. Things we wish were different. Things we need to do something about. That phrase has stuck with me for over twenty years. I think about it constantly. </div>
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When I think about that phrase, I think about the world my kids are growing up in. The world my grandchildren will end up with. There's a classic quote, that apparently nobody has been given credit for; "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Still not sure who said it, but it is incredible. It says to me, that if you want a crappy world, just sit on your butt and wait for it. Don't do anything. Everything dissolves into chaos eventually if it isn't maintained. Like your lawn. Your car. Your family. Your marriage. Your neighborhood. Your city. Your country. Your planet. If we just sit back and wait, it will all become something we didn't want. Then, we don't even deserve to complain. We let it happen. </div>
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So, when I say I am intolerant, here's what I mean. I am not going to sit back and wait for the stupid stuff to take over my world. I have no intention of letting the things that matter get lost or damaged. I intend to do something about it. I have minimal influence on the world, but I will do what I can. I am starting out small. Suggesting you consider doing the same. </div>
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Where do we start? Our home. If you know something upsets your wife, fix it. Don't tolerate your own laziness or immaturity. Fix it. Change it. Do something positive for your marriage. If you know she wants something, make it happen. Take up the challenge, be the man. What about the kids? Something upsetting them? Something they need? Don't tolerate bad situations or stressed out kids. Do something about it. </div>
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Think about your neighborhood. What isn't right? For me, I absolutely hate it when the local meatheads race through my neighborhood. I feel like my kids are threatened. It's dangerous and stupid to run 45 miles an hour or more, through a residential neighborhood. So, what did I do? Several things. I started flagging down the drivers or following them to their house. ( I am still a big, scary looking guy. Haven't fixed all that yet. ) I offered several the chance to slow down on their own, voluntarily. Others refused to speak to me. I let the sheriff talk to them. I called the sheriff every time they did it. I did it enough that everyone knew who I was and why I called. Several people moved out of my neighborhood. Others just slowed down. I also called the city and got new signs installed on my street. I did something. Yay me. </div>
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I am intolerant of men who are bad husbands. Not just the abusive, scary guys; the quiet ones, too. If you are mean, rude, neglectful, abusive, manipulative or any other aggressive kind of jerk, you are a bad husband. And..... If you are the passive guy who just lets stuff happen and does nothing about it, you are a bad husband. If you aren't actively working towards a better life for your family, you qualify. I am notorious for offering unsolicited advice. Believe it or not. When I end up in a conversation with a miserable wife or bonehead husband, I have to say something. I am morally obligated to inform people that life can be better. They can argue all they want. I am living proof that the worst marriage can be saved if the husband will make the effort. </div>
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My kids had a few bad teachers over the years. I don't like it when my kids are upset. I went and talked to the teachers. Tried to get both sides of the story. Went to the principals after that, put my comments in writing in case it happened again. Most ended up working out just fine. Sometimes my kids were moved to a different class. Once, a teacher was fired for bullying my kid. She did that one. She wouldn't tolerate being bullied. </div>
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I don't tolerate racism. Real racism. Not the crap everyone calls racism. Not political posturing and playing the race card. I don't want to hear your jokes. I don't want to know how you feel about someone different. My brother married a black woman. She is one of the most wonderful people I know. Her family is amazing. I love them all. I have several close friends in mixed marriages. They put up with a lot of crap from stupid people. I don't like that kind of intolerance. The kind where you just hate someone for a reason they have no control over. Like their skin, or language, or family. Get over it. I spent three months in a juvenile facility when I was sixteen. It included 475 of us, locked up together. Fourteen of us were white. Racism goes both ways. I lived in that world, too. Threatened daily, watched white kids beat up daily. Racism isn't just something white people do. It's a fact. Get over it. Use your intolerant energy for something that makes the world better. </div>
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Start with your own family. Figure out what you hate about your life and do something about it. Get some counseling from smarter folks before doing anything ridiculous, but get it in motion. Figure out what makes your wife upset and fix it. Figure out what is bothering your kids and fix it. Figure out what is wrong in your neighborhood and fix it. Figure out what is wrong with your life and fix it. </div>
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Become positively intolerant.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-18791477938465097862013-06-28T20:23:00.002-07:002013-06-28T20:23:39.158-07:00Exactly how stupid can someone be?<br />
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Been thinking about some of the greatest idiots I have met over the years. Some were as bad as me, some were worse. I think my only advantage was in only thinking and doing stupid stuff. Some guys brag about it. </div>
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Let me introduce you to the King of the Rednecks. I spent most of my life in Georgia. Born in Atlanta. By most definitions, I probably qualified as a redneck, no problem. While living in rural Georgia, I met the king of the rednecks. Somehow, he was a friend of a family member. They worked together, I guess. He was a normal redneck by most accounts. Multiple dogs roaming the yard, more than ten acres of land, more than ten minutes from town, more than ten cars in the yard, only one runs, double wide trailer, etc. Normal redneck stuff. He was loud and obnoxious. Drank a lot. Liked to wear overalls with no shirt under them. But, he was special. This guy thought he was king of the world. He had everything figured out. Everything in his world made sense to him. All those junk cars; his cars. All those dogs; his dogs. All that land; his land. All those rowdy, stinky kids; his kids. That timid, lonely woman in the kitchen; his wife. He was in control. He was the man. He made the rules. He was in charge. Got the picture?</div>
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We visited his house once. Just once. After more than enough of his opinions and expert advice, he offered up the crown jewel of his wisdom. Wen someone made a comment about his wife taking care of all his stuff, he said it. "The only thing I need a woman for, is to grease my pole." His words, not mine. He announced to everyone that her only value in his life was to satisfy his sexual needs. A man like that is probably more than qualified to handle that by himself, too. Probably won't be long before he has to.</div>
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I can't even explain what it felt like to hear that. What was her life like? It wasn't enough that he was a complete jackass, he was bragging about it! I want to take a few minutes to think about their relationship. Guys and ladies. Be honest. Was it a always like that? Would any American female freely agree to marry that guy? Nope! Because when they got married, he wasn't completely stupid like that. He evolved into that ape over time. I am sure there were warning signs, but she apparently overlooked them. Not saying it's her fault, just wish she had taken an honest look at this guy before the wedding. Her life would have been better with anyone else. So, what do you think happened?</div>
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They met somewhere. School, work, church... Who knows? He probably thought she was a pretty little thing. She probably thought he was cute, or handsome, or charming. Doubt she thought he was an abusive jackass. Not many dates happen after that first impression. He had to ask her out at some point. They had to spend some time together. Had to meet friends and parents at some point. A wedding was planned and then it happened. They bought land, set up a house, made a life. Had sex, had kids, became parents. Then they got dogs, junk cars, broken and rusty crap everywhere. He became an abusive drunk, she got fat and miserable. Then they lived happily ever after. The end. Right? </div>
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I wish I could tell you a simple answer why a woman puts up with all that. There's a lot of reasons that make sense to them. Mostly fear of something. My wife put up with a lot for a long time. I thank God daily that she gave me enough time to grow up a little. I am very thankful that she is still here. But I also know this. Until my world was rocked by her leaving me, I had no reason to change. I was really not much different from him. Different conditions, similar attitude. Just keeping her around for my benefit. </div>
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<a href="http://bestmarriage.com">Joel and Kathy Davisson</a> teach abusive husbands how to get past it and save their family. They taught me. Saved my family. One thing they taught was hard to face because it was all me. Abusive husbands always start out as rescuers and heroes. I don't think I can explain it as well as they can. Hit their site, they are better at the counseling than me. They said that in almost every abusive marriage, the wife had a rough life and the husband swooped in to save her. He became her way out. He was going to make it all better. He became superman to her. </div>
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I did it. My wife had a rough life. Pretty much every bad thing girl could ever deal with happened. Daddy left when she was little. Mom fighting for survival with two little kids. Mom ends up with one super loser after another, most are abusive to her and the kids. Things are ok for a while, things are awful for a while. She went through things I can't even talk about. People hurt her. Then I came along. We became friends, best friends. We did everything together. We had fun. Got married, got houses and jobs and kids. </div>
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Somewhere along the line, I got some bad ideas. I got ambitious, just trying to do better for the family. Work more, gone more. Then my work had to matter, had to be something I enjoyed doing. The work became the focus, the career was what mattered. I had to prove myself and my worth to the whole world. </div>
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Then, we got caught up in a sacred church tradition. ( yes, I am going there right now. ) We got under the traditional teaching about the submissive wife. Now, the bible has a lot to say about relationships and marriage. But, this particular teaching told us that I was the boss and she was to just follow and support me. Even though I didn't know which way was up or have and business sense at all. Even though I was clueless about almost everything. Even though I had never learned anything functional about a solid family. My wife was taught to blindly follow and support me. Which she did. She was the strong one. I would have never supported her the way she supported me. She put up with more crap from me every day that I ever got from her in a lifetime. The submission message is meant for mutual submission. We listen to each other, take correction from each other, care for each other, put each others need before ours. That's what it was meant for. Not turning our wives into mindless doormats. I will cover that in detail soon. </div>
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So, king redneck. Can you imagine how their life together started? Can you imagine how it transformed? Did we learn anything about ourselves today class? Our family is our priority. Not the job or the stuff. The family. Your wife doesn't exist to serve you. You have a wife because you were someone she wanted to be with. You made some promises and commitments to her. You planned to spend your life together. That woman is what matters. Making life good for her is what matters. That's your first job. Everything else is just support for the family. Not the priority. If you have become a man like king redneck, it's time to change. Time to become the man she wants again. Get busy.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-40459222808652959052013-06-28T20:22:00.003-07:002013-06-28T20:22:10.913-07:00Why attitude is everything <br />
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It really is. Trust me. Looking back on my life, I see where my attitude made me and broke me. I also see where it almost cost me my family. </div>
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Think about my marriage issues. (For those who are keeping up with my blog) We married very young. We have children. We moved around too much. We struggled financially. We lived with both sets of parents at different times. I had problems holding down jobs. The good jobs didn't last, or didn't pay well. The bad jobs wore me out. We couldn't afford nicer things. We worked our butts off for the things we had. We gave up too much. Our kids went without too much. We had to ask for help too much. We lived in places we didn't want to be. We dreamed about things we couldn't have. That's just life. </div>
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None of that is what broke down my marriage. My attitude did that. The way I responded to all that stuff broke the marriage. My wife is an amazing person. Everything about her is incredible. She has always been out of my league. She is tough and lovable. She is virtually perfect. She can adapt and thrive in almost any situation. She grew up in tough conditions with a single mom who went through hell. She survived a tough life and still had a great attitude. She was fully willing and able to survive and thrive in whatever situations we lived in. She could handle anything. Except living with a husband who had a horrible attitude. </div>
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We started off great. Best friends. Did stuff together. Had fun. Enjoyed life. All that stuff that makes for a good marriage. But somewhere along the way, my attitude deteriorated. I got ambitious. I was looking for ways to achieve more, become somebody. I wanted better for my family. More money. Nicer things. Work that mattered. Feeling like I was somebody important. Something that made me feel like my life wasn't a waste. I started looking for something more important than my family. I took on a career to support my family, then expected my family to support the career. They just didn't understand why it was important. They couldn't understand what it felt like to carry the weight of the family. They didn't know how much I stressed about providing for them. They didn't appreciate me. Nobody did. Blah blah blah. But that's the thought process. That's where it started. Then it got worse. I got angry at all the people who didn't pull their weight. People who made promises they didn't keep. People who owed me things and didn't come through when I needed them. People who used me and people who lied to me. Again. That's life. Welcome to the real world. </div>
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We have minimal control over the world around us. We have no control over the people around us. We have some control of our circumstances, but we are at the mercy of life. We can't control the weather, the stock market, traffic, mechanical failure, human failures, the price of oil or when the cat throws up on the carpet. The only thing we have absolute control over is our attitude. We decide how we respond to the stuff around us. We are completely free to decide to enjoy life and make the best of it, or just freak out and be miserable. Really. Your choice. </div>
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So, short and sweet here. You can be like me. Let everything in life get to you, get angry about everything and make your family miserable. Or. You can be like my wife. Learn to appreciate little things. Look for the good stuff. Enjoy life. Laugh as often as possible. Ignore the people who think bad about you. Keep moving forward. Spend your time with the people you love doing things you love. Choose to be happy. Choose to defy the crap that is being thrown at you and find your smile. I choose to be like her. That's what is making it possible to be with her. </div>
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I heard someone joke, years ago about his marriage. He told his wife, "if you ever leave me, I'm going with you." Do that. If you have become that guy with the bad attitude that his wife wants to get away from, leave him. Become the guy she needs. Become the guy she wants. Don't look for someone else. Someone who understands. Your wife understands perfectly. Try listening to her. Your ticket to the good life is wrapped up in her.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-71160738739162651202013-06-28T06:14:00.000-07:002013-06-28T06:14:17.803-07:00How do you really know if you are successful?<br />
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Most people only see cash as success. The amount of money in the bank determines whether or not they are a success. I think there's a lot more to it. </div>
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I am technically retired from the music industry. Didn't go out with a bang. Spent the last thirteen years in the business surviving and trying to open the studio I always wanted. Well, we barely survived and the studio is closed. My push to succeed almost cost me my family.</div>
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To most people, I qualify as a complete failure in the music business. None of the albums I recorded were hits. None of the bands I invested in went anywhere. ( at least not with me.) None of the other studios, businesses or ministries I poured my life into ever made anyone rich. Even my own precious studio became another issue that was damaging my family. After all those years of pushing, I finally got almost exactly what I was after. Less than six months after opening the doors, I was tearing gear out and selling it off. It had to go. To save my family, it became a necessary sacrifice. </div>
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All that time away from home, including studio time, damaged my relationship with my family. They figured out their place in my life. Everything was second to me doing what I wanted. </div>
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Anyone crying, yet?</div>
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So. Still struggling financially since starting our life over completely. Still not sure where we go from here. Still salvaging our relationships. Still working on that family time/work time balance. Just establishing that I don't begin to qualify as a success by most standards. </div>
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However, by a different standard, I do. I was told once that success without a successor is ultimately failure. If we take all our training and wisdom to the grave, we have essentially wasted it. I blog because people need some help sometimes. I work hard on this map of the minefield. I am willing to share what I learned, to help you guys navigate through the minefield without hitting the stuff that almost got me. You're welcome. </div>
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Twice in the last week, someone thanked me for something I hadn't really thought about. Kinda blew me away to think about it. One of my best friends needed help with his business. I came on for about a year to help him grow the audio side of his company. Trained him, helped get accounts, etc. That part of the company is now supporting the rest of the company during a down time. He thanked me. </div>
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The other one was a young guy I have known since he was a little kid. He got stuck working some shows, church events and other stuff like that for several years. I was always a butthead when it came to production work. Bossy, pushy, opinionated, obnoxious and demanding. He hung in there through a lot of tough gigs. Great guy. Tough kid. He thanked me for helping him get started in the business. I was thoroughly humbled. Got to see him this week for the first time in four years. He has his own business in Nashville now. Doing pretty well. Working with some legendary performers and they love him. Check him out. <a href="http://www.squezentertainment.com/">Riley Vasquez</a></div>
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About that success thing. I had honestly written off my time as mostly wasted and nonproductive. I felt like I had failed in the production world. Even though it hurt my family and never paid off like we had imagined, good came out of it. Several young men got a head start into an industry they love. Several ministries were blessed and able to continue doing what they do. Several businesses were able to do things they couldn't have done. Several good bands got an opportunity to record and perform that never would have gotten a shot any other way. Even though I was mostly pushing a selfish agenda, I still managed to do some good. I managed to sow some good seeds and invest in good people without realizing it. </div>
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All I really wanted to say here was this. We are quick to judge ourselves and others by someone else's standards. What the rest of humanity might see as success won't really matter at the end of your life. To the general population, I utterly failed in the music business. However, to the people who I helped, I am not. It feels pretty good to realize it wasn't just wasted years. We can't always predict or choose how things turn out, but we can choose how we respond to them. We can also adjust our priorities and make better decisions. We can learn to invest our time and energy into the people who matter. Family first, then everything else. </div>
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I consider myself successful by the standard that most of the important people in my life love and respect me. The people who matter, not everyone else. Our relationships are that important. </div>
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Going to take the rest of this post to introduce you to some great people I worked with over the years. Some helped me, some I helped. All very important people from my years in the business. Feel free to visit them and see what they do. </div>
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<a href="http://larryhoward.com">Larry Howard</a> Evangelist, Bluesman </div>
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<a href="http://www.harvestcathedral.com">Harvest Cathedral</a> Powerful church in GA</div>
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<a href="http://billhardinmusic.com">Bill Hardin Music</a> Music store, online sales</div>
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<a href="http://www.manta.com/c/mttm6bw/audio-visual-service">Buddy Lovell</a> AV crew in GA</div>
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<a href="http://vimeo.com/64694901">Nathan Lee</a> Video editor for Habitat for Humanity</div>
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<a href="http://www.squezentertainment.com/">Riley Vasquez</a> Production monkey</div>
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<a href="http://prisonfellowship.org">Prison Fellowship</a> Great ministry</div>
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<a href="http://www.capitalav.com/index.shtml">Mike Cox and Flip Cruz</a> AV crew in DC</div>
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<a href="http://newcitymacon.org/">Keith Watson</a> New City Church and 567 music venue</div>
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There's plenty more, but most of those slackers don't have websites.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-54037894412306475752013-06-28T06:03:00.000-07:002013-06-28T06:03:20.897-07:00The other knuckleheads I met this week<br />
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Not just once, but twice this week... I ran into myself. At least the guy I was a while back. Creepy. </div>
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For the sake of clarity, I am in no way saying I have arrived at perfection. Ha. Hardly. I still qualify as a knucklehead. Just a different knucklehead, one my wife likes again. </div>
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<li>The first time I met myself this week. We have a semi-regular date night, for the last few months. One of our favorite spots is on Flagler Beach. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/johnnydsbeachbar?rf=332232763481570" target="_blank">Johnny D's</a> is a small beachside bar and grill with killer burgers. They also do a lot of live solo music and karaoke. For most of my life, I have worked in pro audio. Concert sound, studio work, corporate shows and stuff like that. I was always on the other side of the microphone. The thought of attempting to sing in front of people was horrifying. The people who sing karaoke have always been amusing to me. They seem to fall into one of three categories. People who are having fun, people who think it's a legitimate way to show off their talent and apparently people who just do it because someone talked them into it. I am the third type. Prior to this week, there was absolutely no way I would have ever gotten up and taken a microphone. But, things change. After listening to a few others, and watching my wife laugh and smile a lot, she did it. "You should go sing for me." Crap. Every logical fiber in my soul panicked for a moment. Then, whatever new stuff is in there woke up. "Your wife just asked you for something. She just hinted at something that would make her night better. She just suggested something that will make happy memories of us for her." So, before the logical side could argue, I just ran up there and did it. She loved it. I sucked worse than I thought I would. Got lost and messed the words up, even with the words right in front of me. She didn't care. It ended up as a great night. However, after putting the mic down and wading through the cheering throngs of my new fans, I saw myself. Didn't even notice this guy all night. But I saw him on the way back. He was wearing a black shirt, the standard uniform of guys like me. He was at a table alone, but leaning over trying to talk to the people around him. He was making fun of the singers. He wasn't involved, he was a critic. I could see him laughing at me on the way back. He stopped when I got closer. ( I am still a fairly large and intimidating person, apparently. ) I watched him start right back up on the next person. He sat the there most of the night. Nobody really talked to him. He was alone. He was critical of everything around him and wouldn't participate. It was tough to watch. That's been me most of my adult life. Felt bad for him. Don't want to be him anymore. </li>
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The second time I ran into myself this week. I met a mutual friend of <a href="http://joelandkathy.com">Joel and Kathy </a> this week. Met him before, seemed like a nice guy. Well, his facade cracked this week. He is miserable. He is angry at everyone, everyone owes him an apology for ruining his life, he expects perfection from everyone else but wants them to understand his faults. His life is a frustrating mess because he can't forgive people and move on. His wife is my wife. She loves him, but he is making her crazy. He is so self absorbed with his problems that he has almost forgotten to be a husband. It all revolves around him. She looks like she has had about enough. It tore me apart to talk to him. I saw myself. I saw what my wife and everyone else had to put up with. I saw why she wanted the divorce. We talked for a while. Actually, I talked. He had the appearance of someone listening, paying attention to someone who had an answer he needed. I told him that he was the first person I ever met who could really understand where I came from. Our lives were so similar it was scary. The only difference was that I was able to let things go and move forward. He knows that was the difference. He knows how I changed. He sees the changes in my world and how my wife is healing. I honestly thought we were communicating and he understood. But then, he turned around and picked up the same arguments as before. I got up and said goodbye. Not worth wasting my breath. He wasn't going to listen. He wanted us to think he was listening. He was respectful enough to sit there without arguing, mostly. But he heard nothing. He wanted freedom. He wanted to move on with his life, but he can't until his past is resolved. He is waiting for perfect answers and apologies to ease his mind and make sense of his life. It's not going to happen. </div>
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If you are like these guys, stop it. Please. For the sale of your friends and family, stop being a jackass. It's not all about you. Stop building yourself up by tearing others down. Stop living as a critic and get in the game. The critics look funny from this side. If you are that self absorbed jerk who has to make the world perfect for himself and miserable for everyone else, stop it. The freedom is to forget about your garbage and focus on making life good for the people who matter. My life got so much better once I quit trying to make myself happy and focused on my wife. Making her happy makes me happy. I just wish I could make those guys understand. Before their family has had enough. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-56847749059861699262013-06-07T18:26:00.001-07:002013-06-07T18:26:03.995-07:00Planning a wedding? Here's a few things to consider <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI'; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">Ok. Someone just pushed my buttons. I read another blog and it got me thinking about our marriage counseling and pre-marital counseling. The article was asking for readers to offer advice to young brides-to-be. ( http://www.beautythroughimperfection.com/2013/03/11/dear-bride-to-be-my-one-piece-of-advice/ ) Nicely written, charming article. However, you guys know me by now. I had to throw in my two cents worth. </span><br />
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After screwing up the lives of my wife and kids, I got to witness our older daughters go through divorces. They blissfully married these wonderful guys, who ended up doing the same stuff I did. The difference? These girls decided that they didn't need to wait 20 years to get rid of them. They were both divorced within two years. They, apparently, learned from my wife that they didn't have to tolerate an abusive or neglectful meathead. Now. I am not saying that just because a guy is a selfish, immature, spoiled rotten toddler that you should run to a lawyer. But. I am not telling you to stay in an abusive or neglected position either. My girls figured out, quickly, that it wasn't getting any better. I am proud of both of them. I am just as proud of my wife. She took enough crap from me and decided she didn't want any more. I still have the divorce papers. She was dead serious. It was over. Twenty years of being dragged through life my an angry toddler was plenty. If we didn't have two young kids at home, she wouldn't have even hesitated. My kids bought me enough time to get things worked out. Not fixed, but in motion. So, back to the advice....</div>
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She asked for one piece of advice I would give to a young bride. At the point I jumped in, only women had responded. Here's my letter.</div>
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Anyone else noticed that only women have responded so far? Know why? Because you, ladies, are alway more concerned with the relationship. So. As a man. Here’s my advice. Sorry, can’t do just one.</div>
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Make sure you both understand what it means for a husband to love his wife as Christ loved the church. If he understands that, he will be the best husband you can imagine.</div>
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Stay friends. Do stuff together constantly. Have fun together.</div>
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Don’t tolerate immaturity. He’s a big boy, expect him to act like it. Don’t coddle him. Selfishness is bad enough on a two year old. It looks really ugly on a 40 year old.</div>
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Be very careful about most marriage counseling. It almost always puts the weight on the wife.</div>
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Go into marriage with your eyes open. This fantasy is about to get real. Make sure you really know each other.</div>
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Last. Be willing to take advice from those parents of yours. If they love him, awesome. If not, find out why and listen.</div>
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I blog for husbands and fathers. I made every mistake and want to help them. I believe God wants better for his girls that they know.</div>
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Try this one. http://erikmatlock.wordpress.com/2013/04/09/plan-b/</div>
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No responses yet. But it's only been about half an hour. Not patient by nature. </div>
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So. Some advice for the young couples? Gladly. </div>
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Our pre-marital counseling in 1989, involved sitting at a pastors house for three short sessions. I don't remember anything but bad coffee. No useful advice. No sage wisdom. No cautions. Nothing. He pretty much sat there. He watched us talk about getting married. Said nothing useful. We were two immature kids. Obviously drinking and smoking pot heavily. Obviously not prepared to be responsible for anything. Already living together. I was 19, she was... Uh. Well. She is perpetually 29. So she was... Well. Not old enough to understand what marriage was really about. </div>
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Later. Our marriage counseling involved a lot of talk about how we treat each other. About our responsibilities within the marriage. About bonding and loving and dishes and laundry and whatever. It was all about stuff that was just going to become her problem. You could have swapped me out for a house cat and the counseling would have had the same results. </div>
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"Now I want you two to go home and show mutual respect to each other. Love each other. Both of you do your part to make this marriage strong." The wife, honestly listening, agrees to whatever she has to do to be a good wife and make the marriage work. The cat is busy licking it's butt. Or something equally stupid. The husband is almost always let off the hook because he expects HER to step up first. If she does it, he might do it. That's crap. But that's standard counseling. 50/50 spilt of responsibility. Mutual respect. Do your part. Whatever. It doesn't work. All counseling eventually concedes that the real work of the marriage will fall to the more responsible person. Well, who do you think that is? Who normally changes diapers? Raises and disciplines kids? Takes care of the house? Manages the house, money, bills, groceries, meals, laundry, etc? Well?</div>
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Ok. Now. Who normally takes responsibility for a job that they would have even if they were single? Who grills meat? Who can laugh to tears over a fart joke well into his senior years? </div>
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So who is the more responsible one in the marriage, almost every time? The wife. Almost every book we have ever read, almost every counseling session, every marriage conference.... Dumps most of the weight on the wife. I believe this has gone on long enough. </div>
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To that young bride. Expect more. Don't settle for a loser. You won't change him. Of he's a self absorbed, immature, toddler now... it won't get any better. Watch how he treats his mother or sisters. You won't get any better. And, if he expects momma to constantly wipe his butt, he will expect it from you, too. Really. </div>
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Guys. Men don't take failure lightly. We cry over football games. We go into depression over lost money on investments. We become superheroes when we realize we are going to fail. We can't fail we must win. We are conquerors and competitors by nature. Why does that apply to everything but our family? Why is it acceptable to fail as husbands and fathers? Stop it! It's not ok to let your wife carry the weight of the family. Step up superhero. Do the right thing. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-54319374272036846312013-06-02T19:38:00.002-07:002013-06-02T19:38:39.796-07:00Why this will be the best Father's Day ever<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI'; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">I expect this one to be amazing. Want to know why? Because it will be different. Because I am different. Because I see things differently than I ever have before. So, you ask, "Erik, how will it be different?" Glad you asked. </span><br />
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In my glorious days of being the abusive, neglectful, oblivious, selfish tyrant.... It was always about me. Not that I am completely perfect, or assume I am even close. But now I am aware of how my attitude and actions affected my family. ( Again. Becoming a better man. Not there, yet. ) Every conversation, every decision, every plan, every choice was made based on how it affected me. It all had to benefit me. Yep. I was convinced that I was king of this castle and all my loyal subjects existed for me. I was trained, thanks to slightly twisted theology, to believe that my wife was less than me. Her purpose was to serve and support me and my never ending trail of stupid ideas. Like Jim Carrey said in the series of unfortunate events movie.... All I ask is that you do each and every thing that pops into my head. I didn't see it, of course. It seemed perfectly logical, even beneficial. But not quite right. All the pressure of the family fell to my wife. All the pressure of making big decisions, paying bills, grilling meat, mowing grass; those fell to me. Grunt, grunt. Funny how that works. All the pressure I had, would have been there even if I was single. All the pressure she had only existed within the family we created. Hmmmmm. So anyway, as said before, I have been a jerk. A jerk with good intentions, but still a jerk. </div>
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So what about Father's Day? How will it be different? I no longer see my family as subjects, or nuisances, or baggage, or whatever degrading term fits. They don't exist to serve and obey me. Every Father's Day, I have had expectations of them rushing to my side with extravagant gifts. I expected them to go out of their way to make me meals, bring me offerings, do special displays of affection, generally treat me like the king I thought I was. JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE YEAR!!!! If it didn't live up to my expectations, I complained or pouted or sulked. Don't just look at me. Look at yourself, too. You do it. Admit it. If anyone doesn't live up to our expectations, or completely satisfy us, or give us the respect we think we deserve... we complain, sulk and pout. We make that late night push for sympathy or compassion, hoping our wives will coddle us like toddlers and give us something to make it all better. Waaaah. Just like a toddler. Immature, selfish, spoiled, demanding and unappreciative. I confess it. I own it. That has been me, most of my married life. </div>
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It will be different this year. I already told the family that I want nothing. Do not spend a penny on me. No gift. No effort on their part, just mine. I want this Father's Day to be a chance for me to just be with them and reassure my family that I love them and want to be with them. Want to. Not have to, should, need to, etc. I want to be with them. They are different to me this year. They matter. Their needs are more important than mine. Their time is more valuable than mine. I exist to serve and care for them. My purpose in life is to love my family and make life good for them. To make their world a joyful place. To teach them that love is not selfish. Love means they are my priority. They are more important than anything else. When they need me, I move. When they want something, I move. When something appears to be a threat or problem for them, I move. They have to know that every minute of the day, I choose them over everything else. All the things I have been awful at for most of my life. </div>
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So, the plan is to spend the day together. Doing things that they want to do. Just being with them. We are hoping to make a road trip and see the kids who didn't move with us, and hopefully our parents. Hopefully. Whether we can or not, I just want to be with them. I want my kids to live without any doubts about how much they are loved. I don't always do it right. Sometimes I am overbearing, embarrassing, overprotective or just outright stupid. But, they will not be able to ever consider the thought that daddy doesn't love them. </div>
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To my kids, who may actually read this one day, I love you. You are my heart and soul. You are wonderful. You are the ones who give my life purpose. You are all the best part of me. You are loved. To my dad, in case he ever reads this... You are a good man. You were no different from me. You made bad decisions and learned the hard way. You struggled with all the same crap I struggle with. But, you have come around, too. I see it, my kids see it. You have matured and become a good man that I am proud to call my father. Thank you for being the good man you are. I love you. And, to my wife, who will probably read this..... You are still the best thing that has ever happened to me. Thank you for allowing me the privilege and opportunity to be a husband and father. Thank you for spending the last 8,576 days of your life as my wife. Thank you for giving me another chance to be your husband. A chance I did not deserve. I love you. Thank you, so much. Thank you for another Father's Day with you and the kids. </div>
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I honestly expect this to be the best Father's Day ever. Let me know how yours turns out. Love to hear about it. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-81690934221384283952013-06-02T07:40:00.003-07:002013-06-02T12:51:47.801-07:00Another victim of the monkey trap<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI'; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">I saw a documentary about monkeys, when I was a kid. I can't remember anything about that show except the scene where they had to catch them. Don't remember why. Just that they were catching monkeys. </span><br />
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The technique was amazing. They had glass jars, like jelly jars, that they tied to a tree. All it took was a few sugar cubes in the jar and a few on the ground, to draw a few monkeys in. They ate the cubes off the ground quick, then began frantically digging around for more. Eventually, one found the jar. He shoved his hand inside the jar and grabbed all the sugar cubes. All the monkey hunters had to do, was walk up and slip a collar and leash on him. He couldn't get away. No fight, no guns, no blood, no mess. The monkey never got hurt, just captured. How did the trap work? </div>
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He trapped himself. His empty hand slipped into that jar easily. Once he made a fist around the sugar, it wouldn't come out. The jar was on a rope hanging from the tree, he couldn't pull it off. So, can't break the rope, can't get his hand out. Can you imagine what he felt watching those men come out of the bushes, walk up and put a collar and leash on him? He must have been in full panic. Overwhelming fear as the others ran off and escaped, leaving him alone. Taken away to somewhere he didn't choose to go by people he didn't want to be with. Poor monkey. </div>
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I think they were tagging them to track the monkeys in that area. Don't remember. Ether way, the monkey wasn't hurt, just completely freaked out and later released. Just thought the hyper sensitive readers might need that reassurance. </div>
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It seems to be complete defiance of everything logical and rational, that the monkey wouldn't let go of that sugar. Of course, you would know better if the monkey hunters go you, right? You come across this magical, unexplainable treat. It captures your attention, you have to have it. You enjoy your special treat and want more. There it is! Got it! Uh oh. Now you're stuck. The treat you were having is now having you. And look, here come some people to admire your situation and make it worse. Now your magical treat has taken you into a new place where you have no control at all. Your world has become a very different and traumatic place. Because you refused to give up that stupid sugar cube. That monkey got lucky. He was examined, tagged and released. If those were poachers, it would have been different. He would have become a pet or fur coat or dinner. Lucky monkey. </div>
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I am telling this story from the perspective of a lucky monkey. I had my hand in that sugar jar a few times. Got into things I shouldn't have. Took the magical treat and held on too long. Even the bible says that sin is fun for a season. And it was. But, there's always a payday. It's not always an affair. We get trapped by a lot of different things. That position of influence, maybe. The treat is admiration and recognition. The trap is a life wasted on people who don't matter, and lost on people who do. That special hobby or toy in your life can do the same thing. Addictions are like that. Nobody was ever attacked in their house by a roving gang of lit cigarettes. What choice would they have? It all starts the same way. Find something new, enjoy it, want it, crave it, need it, can't live without it. We have minute by minute decisions to make. We can stay in the trap or let go. </div>
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Most of us have gotten into the monkey trap in one way or another. </div>
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That flirting and attention felt so good, but it led to....</div>
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That exhilarating rush of getting away with it once, led to...</div>
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The release of letting it all out and yelling at the kids led to...</div>
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The smoking sure tasted and felt good, but led to...</div>
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You get the idea. I hope. </div>
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I have spent a great deal of my life in the monkey trap, still caught in a few areas. I had my first cigarette around 11 or 12 years old. Some older kids found some, I found some, just experimenting at first, habit later. By the time I was 20 it was about a pack and a half a day. After realizing that my little girl was coughing because of me, and that 90% of impotent men are also smokers, I just quit. Done. Gave away eight and a half packs right then. Quit. For 19 years. Once I realized I was headed for divorce and may lose my family, bought a pack and went right back to it. My choice. As of today, I haven't smoked for a month. Time will tell if I am smart enough to stay out of the trap for good. Like I said. This isn't about me telling you to be as perfect as me. This is me sharing my journey. Becoming a better man. Becoming. Not there yet. </div>
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Other traps have been businesses, church work, random projects, stupid toys, etc. Things that started off as good or harmless or even potentially very positive. But, they became things that caused problems, or stole time from my family, or just stroked my ego or whatever. They put me in a place of frustration and aggravation. They caused pointless stress. They hurt my family. They became monkey traps. It was my choice to stay. I could let go and move on at any time. </div>
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Guys. Examine your life. What are you trapped by? Smoking? Affairs? Attitudes? The condition of your body? What is it? If it's not making life better for you AND your family, maybe you need to let it go before the monkey hunters get you. Before they start taking things away. Or taking you away. Take the advice of another dumb monkey. Seriously. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-60966672757930713452013-05-28T05:31:00.002-07:002013-05-28T05:31:36.798-07:00I can feel... One of my turns coming on<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Yes. Pink Floyd. From "The Wall." I completely wore out 2 cassette copies of that album when I was a teenager. Incredibly well made album. Brilliant. Depressing. The last time I heard it, I figured out where a lot of my youthful angst and depression came from. It was a part of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That song and song title has been stuck in my head since yesterday. It seems like the closest description to where my mind went. Thanks to another type of entertainment, I had a magnificent flashback. The movie, "Something's gotta give." Watched it for the first time last night. Ended up being a great story, but the road to getting there had some rough spots. It's the story of two people who end up in love, completely against their better judgement. The man is older, with a past of just using women and living free of any relationships. The woman was divorced after 20 years and has become content with her life. Through a long adventure, they end up wanting to be together and both completely in love. On the way, he drags his feet enough for another man to slip in and take her away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I need to explain here is how my brain works. I was diagnosed with ADD and depression about three years ago. Wait. It's better than that. My doctor told me I was a textbook perfect case of adult ADD. She said I had almost every symptom she knew to look for. It's not an excuse or a joke, but it explains a lot about decisions I have made. My wife can tell which days i have taken my medication and when I don't. One of the things my brain does, is identify with certain characters in movies to the point of empathy. I sometimes almost feel like I have taken on part of the role. Yeah. Really. Some characters make me laugh until it hurts, some rip my heart out. Sometimes it takes a while to get my head on straight for a while. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So. The movie. When the man finally comes to his senses and rushes after her, he is interrupted by the other man. He just steps in beside her, surprised to see him there. My wife made a comment at that point that got me. "He waited too long." At that point, my emotions just snapped. I was overwhelmed with all the pain I felt during our worst days. I remembered the thoughts that I had waited too long to get my act together. I had vivid thoughts of my family being torn from me and another man taking my place. Very vivid. Horror like something Stephen King would imagine. I had to leave the room to get myself composed. Hard to describe, but utterly traumatic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Guys, I want you to feel something. Don't worry about being macho. Forget whatever reaction you think your friends might have. It won't matter in the long run what anyone but you and your wife think. Imagine yourself as that guy. You have this relationship with a woman you already decided to spend your life with. You still aren't fully committed. She wants the relationship more than you do. You hold back from her. You won't give in and completely commit to her. You keep flirting and playing around. You are sure that she is all yours whenever you want. So you leave her to herself. Neglect her. Avoid her, maybe. Start to see her as a spare tire you only take out when you need her. How's the imagination going so far. Do you see it? Are you living it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, imagine this. Out of the blue, you find out everyone else knows she is done with you. She has decided to move on. She has her own options. Maybe she figures she would prefer being alone to being with you. Maybe she just can't take any more of your crap. Maybe someone else is pursuing her. Someone else has figured out what a catch she is. Someone else has decided to give her their full attention. She leaves. She has become casual about you. She doesn't care anymore. You aren't even an option to her. She doesn't want to see you, doesn't care if she ever does. She has gone completely apathetic about you and your feelings. She takes your kids away. She starts a new life without you. You get to see your kids with a new father. You get to see your wife with a new husband. You get to sort out your emotions every year at Christmas because you are just the ex-husband. The life you had is gone, you are left on the outside. You have to start over, but you still have connections to the family you lost. Maybe you find someone else, another victim? Maybe the cycle starts over. Trophy wife becomes the ball and chain becomes the ex-wife. Maybe. Maybe not. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you have survived a situation like this, you have my deepest sympathy. If you are in the cycle right now, humble yourself and save your family. We didn't go this far. As hard as it was, I held on and still had hope. Kathy Davisson at <a href="http://bestmarriage.com/" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors-type="link" x-apple-data-detectors="true">bestmarriage.com</a> told me the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy. When they just don't care anymore. Any emotional involvement, even anger, means there is still hope. Somehow, she didn't make it to apathy. She gave me enough time, not sympathy, to get the changes in motion. It took three years before we started to really become a couple again. This whole scenario was where we were headed. Not maybe, this was the track we were on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to change. Like almost all wives, mine wanted a relationship with her husband. She didn't expect or demand everything be perfect. She just wanted me as committed to her as she was to me. She wanted me. She just got to a point where she was tired of carrying the weight of holding the whole family together and started considering other options. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She put up with me being distracted, evasive and abusive for almost twenty years. The last ten of that were awful. She put me through three years of absolute torture. It went from wanting to work it out, to I never want to see you again constantly. She wanted it to work. She wanted to save the family, she just didn't want the same jackass of a husband to do it with. So I changed. I figured out how much I wanted my wife and kids. I had done a lot of damage, it was going to take a while to heal. Still healing. There's still damage to get past. There are still issues we aren't totally free from. But, we are together and conscious of it all. I understand what I have to do and am doing it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't handle the thought of ever going through that again. I hate the though of any of my friends and family going through any of that. Please listen, guys. Please do the right thing. Please save your family. Everyone gets hurt when dad doesn't do what he should. Whether or not you believe it's all your fault or responsibility, treat it like it is. It's the only way back from here. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-58446410036803319912013-05-26T10:38:00.004-07:002013-05-26T11:26:29.294-07:00One simple thing you need to understand about marriage<br />
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My friends at <a href="http://bestmarriage.com/" target="_blank">BestMarriage.com</a> told me a great story. It was a turning point in their marriage. Joel was also an abusive husband. They were pastors during the abuse. They went to a conference on living free from abuse, where they came to terms with how bad their marriage actually was.</div>
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Joel was confronted about his attitiude. He was told that one of his biggest problems was that he didn't think he needed Kathy. His response? You're right. I don't need her.</div>
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He was convinced she was simply an accessory. She was just a part of his life. Someone there to serve him. The assistant. The vice principal. Second in command. First mate. Like Batman and Robin. Skipper and Gilligan. Pinky and the Brain. One is critical, the other is just there. A spare tire. Comic relief. Maybe a grunt. Whatever. Someone who could be replaced by anyone.</div>
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He didn't see her as absolutely critical to his life. He didn't see how they completed each other. Almost a ying and yang kinda thing. Neither is truly complete without the other. </div>
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There is a word used in the Bible when God made Eve. Helpmeet. He said it was not good for man to be alone. So, I shall make him a helpmeet. Not help mate. Not second in command. Not vice principal. Not comic relief. Helpmeet. Very powerful word. Very complex word. Essentially, someone who completes you and makes you more than you can be alone. The help part is the same as another army called in to help with a battle you can't win alone. The meet part is tricky. Like an interpreter that helps get through something you can't understand. A guide that takes you somewhere you can't get alone. She completes you. She is all that you aren't. She sees things you don't. She hears things you don't. She understands things you don't.</div>
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( here's another good article <a href="http://womeninthescriptures.blogspot.com/2010/11/real-meaning-of-term-help-meet.html" target="_blank">The definition of helpmeet</a> I am not Mormon, don't agree with a lot of things they believe, but the article is really good )</div>
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It's not weakness to need her. It's not whimpy to need her beside you. You are not a henpecked, loser of a wus for needing her. You are a wise man who understands how important she is. Her opinion matters. Her fears should be heeded. Her concerns are legitimate. Everything about her matters.</div>
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Just like Joel, I had to come to terms with all this. I had to admit it and tell myself, "I need my wife." The sooner you admit you need her, the better. If you say that you want a stronger marriage, you need to take steps to make it stronger. This is an easy one. Take a few days to think about this. Figure out why you need her. Think about times she encouraged you. Or tried to stop you from doing something stupid, that you did anyway. Think about times she protected you. Think about ways she is a part of you. Don't even think about anything negative. Just focus on the good stuff for a few days.</div>
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Say it out loud, so you can hear yourself say it. "I need my wife." Say her name. Tell her you need her. Tell her why. Do it now. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-69203103796537938542013-05-19T06:12:00.003-07:002013-05-19T06:12:39.333-07:00Deciding to be a hero<br />
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One of my big revelations in life was that I don't have to be superman to everyone. There are actually only a few people who really need me to operate at that level. Everyone else falls in line behind them. Sorry. Not giving up every ounce of strength and spare minute for the leeches who suck the life out of me anymore. My wife and kids get the best of me from now on. </div>
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But, there's something inside us guys that craves the recognition of being a hero. Some of us are just naturally heroic types. Determined to do the right thing at all times. Some of us will gladly take credit for someone else's heroism. Jerks. </div>
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I met a career firefighter a while back. Great guy. Bad husband, but working on it. We had a conversation about 9/11 and the firefighters who lost their lives. He was upset about it. They had no business running into those burning buildings. They knew better. Someone should have stopped them. Their training told them that, at some point it was a lost cause. Get away. Save yourself. There's no logical reason to go in there. There's almost no chance you will survive and not much chance you will bring anyone else out. He got emotional about those guys and what they did. But confessed that, if he had been there, he probably would have done the same thing. He couldn't have just stood there and done nothing. He had a hero inside him that would never just sit still when there was a need so great. He couldn't just watch tragedy like that without trying to stop it. Those police officers and firefighters were heroes, no matter how anyone feels or what the training manual said. Tragic day. I will never forget it. </div>
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I have been thinking about that conversation and that man. His instinct was to quickly make a decision that could cost him his life. He was hard wired to consider another life more valuable than his own and do whatever it took to save them. But, this same man was unwilling to treat his own wife like she was that valuable. He was willing to give his life up completely and die for a stranger. He had a problem with giving up a degree of his life to save his wife from a stressful and frustrating life. Why? Why are we willing to just die when we see a great need but can't "die to ourself" for the needs of our family? What is the difference? I have a hard time accepting that we are capable of one but not the other. If there is anyone alive who deserves that kind of sacrifice, it would be our wife and our kids. Why do we have to always get our own way? Why do we have to be so important at home? Why do we make all the critical decisions for the family? Why is her opinion and need less important than ours? Not all guys have this issue, but plenty do. We will lay our life down for a stranger but not lay down the remote for our family. </div>
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Guys, we can do better than this. When <a href="http://bestmarriage.com/" target="_blank">Joel and Kathy</a> started counseling me, I was that knucklehead, too. I had given up the best years of my life to all kinds of people. Jobs that didn't pay well, but demanded ridiculous hours. Churches that liked to throw everything on the guy who had a hard time saying no. Friends who always needed something stupid on the weekends. Yeah. I couldn't say no to all that, but I could to my family. It was almost like I was looking for excuses to stay away from them. They felt it, too. My middle daughter made a painful comment once, when she was about four. I was working for a big church. I regularly put in 70-80 a week there. My wife and daughter came to pick me up for lunch one day. Wen they pulled into the parking lot, my daughter said, "oh, we're going to daddy's house." She actually thought I lived there. Bad daddy. That was me. Jerk. </div>
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Just take some time this week and consider your life. How do you want to be remembered? Do you want random people to remember you as a really good guy, even if they forget your name? The selfish guy who always did whatever he wanted even when his family needed him. Or. Do you want you family to remember you as their hero? The guy who saw a little league game or dance recital as more important than a fishing trip. The guy who saw momma tired and stressed out and did something about it. The guy who was fully aware of the needs in his own home. The guy who took responsibility for the condition of his family. The guy who was willing to lay down his life for the ones who matter most. Your choice. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-72463533363692038602013-05-15T05:29:00.003-07:002013-05-15T05:29:48.988-07:00The main lesson I learned from Forrest Gump<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI'; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">Forrest Gump is still in my top 5 favorite movies of all time. Classic. If you have never seen it, get it now. The story of two people really, Forrest and Jenny. Forrest is "not a smart man" by his own account. He ends up with a very remarkable life, pretty much by accident. Jenny, however, is determined to have a significant life of fame and fortune. Jenny hates her past, constantly struggles with bad memories and ends up in one bad place after another. Forrest just does what he is told and great things happen. </span><br />
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Now, don't even think that. I am not suggesting we all be good little robots and do everything we are told. I am suggesting that Forrest Gump was a lot smarter than anyone thought because he understood and lived by a simple principle......</div>
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Be where you are. </div>
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That thought has tormented me. Mainly because it's really difficult for me to focus all my energy and attention on any one thing. But, he understood the power and value of being able to be completely involved in whatever he did. He was not driven by ambition. He had no hidden agendas. He didn't pretend to like people. He didn't waste time with people who didn't care about him. He was completely loyal to the people who mattered. Jenny was the only girl for him. </div>
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Throughout the story, Jenny comes and goes constantly. She can never stay still for very long. She feels she has to keep moving. The life she wants is out there, somewhere. If one place isn't perfect, she keep moving. Never satisfied. Never committed. Craving freedom, but trapped in a life she doesn't want. She is always surrounded by losers and leeches. People who have her around for their amusement or benefit, not for her. Nobody is there for her... Except Forrest. He never gives up on her. No matter what she does, where she goes, who she gives herself to; he is still waiting for her. She is always his girl. </div>
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Forrest gets attacked by bullies when he is a kid, Jenny tells him to run. He takes off, breaks loose of the braces on his legs and finds out he can REALLY run. He is fast. But the doctor had crammed him into leg braces to "fix" him. Because Jenny gave him that push to run, he found out he was capable of something even he though he couldn't do. That push to run ends up being a huge part of his life, taking him to college, keeping him and others alive during a war and crossing the country about three times. He just listened to someone who mattered, took their advice and did it. </div>
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He is not afraid to fight. If something is wrong or Jenny is in trouble, he is all in. Not taking a lot of time to consider it or pray about it. Jump to action immediately. He can take criticism and adjust. He doesn't go into depression every time his life takes a turn. He isn't constantly looking for that bigger and better deal. He understands that this is his life. Right now. He is living it. It's not coming tomorrow. It's not about waiting on something to happen before he can be content. He is living every day of his life. He knows who he is he knows how people see him. He knows they talk about him. He knows that he has limitations. He is not spending his life trying to become "somebody" or prove himself. Not bad for someone who is "not a smart man."</div>
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This is the lesson I learned from that movie. Be where you are. Be involved in your life. Commit yourself to the life you have and the family you have. Stop waiting for your life to show up. You have your life. If it is bad, adjust where you have to. Don't live in misery, but understand if it's misery you are bringing on yourself. Constantly chasing money or bigger homes or faster cars is not going to make your life good. It just steals precious time you could be spending with people you love and doing good stuff. The number one deathbed regret is working too much, not enjoying life. Seriously. This is your life. Stay connected to family and friends. Spend time with your wife and kids. Quantity time finds quality time. Be involved in your life. Be here today. Stop chasing or waiting for something that doesn't matter. </div>
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Be where you are. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-73111890858178403192013-05-12T19:34:00.003-07:002013-05-12T19:34:31.745-07:00The reason I will never own a Prius<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: '.Helvetica NeueUI'; font-size: 17px; text-align: left;">Part of my regular work, is a reconditioner for several car dealerships. I basically take the ugly trade-ins and make them all shiny and pretty again. I work on every kind of car they take on trade. I drive them all. I can tell you, after doing a lot of work between two toyota dealers, the Prius is a pretty cool little car. But, there's no way I will ever own one. </span><br />
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They are cheap on gas. Not very expensive. Fairly sporty to drive. Not a bad looking car. Pretty comfortable inside. Even enough room for a big guy like me. But, no way. Want to know why? Because they have developed a stigma that I don't want any part of. They have become notorious for having owners who are arrogant, obnoxious, rude and generally think they are better than everyone else. Not all of them, but enough to create a stigma. They feel like they are doing more to save the planet that any one else.... By driving a Prius. By buying a Prius, they have bought into a marketing pitch that convinces them the earth will last longer and they will be the hero for it. Not really guys. So. They begin to get proud of themselves for making an effort that the rest of us don't. Soon, they transform from people with great intentions of doing good, to people who can't understand why it doesn't make sense to everyone. So they become jerks. Not all, but enough. </div>
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I promise I will make a point soon. </div>
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I have always ridden any motorcycle I liked and could afford. Usually older cheap bikes that didn't even need a title. Developed a special love for the Honda CB750 and the Kawasaki KZ1100. Rode a sportster for a while. It was ok. Not enough to get a Harley tattoo, but ok. Years later I didn't like Harley because I met so many guys who had them and thought they were better than the rest of us. Most bikers, like-able ones, do a wave when they pass other riders. It's usually two fingers, index and middle together, pointed down. I always saw it as a salute to another guy with two wheels on the ground. I would get irritated when a Harley rider wouldn't return the wave when I was on my Japanese bikes. Jerks. </div>
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Then, one day, I get a call from a buddy of mine. He found a high end custom motorcycle frame. It was one like I had wanted for years. We worked a deal and I got it. For the next 23 weeks, every spare minute was committed to building my first completely custom rigid frame chopper. It ended up being 9 feet long and a great bike to ride. It was Harley parts from front to back, except the engine. I built it around a vintage Honda CB750. It was beautiful. And, just to be obnoxious, I used metric wrenches as braces and supports for some custom parts I made. The Harley guys didn't know what to think of it. It looked wicked. My wife nicknamed it "the mistress" because of how much time I spent with it. I loved that bike. I was so proud to be out riding something I built. </div>
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Then it happened. I caught myself being a jerk. Some guy was bragging about his Harley and how much he spent on it. I asked him how long it took to build it. The conversation changed after that. I realized that I had become the jerk. I set out to do something I always wanted to do and then got arrogant about it. Sure, my bike wasn't the best one out there, but I built mine. Did you build yours or just borrow some money and buy it? Yeah. That kind of attitude. I became the jerk. Suddenly I felt like I was better than those guys. They didn't get it. </div>
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That kind of arrogance and attitude creeps up on us. Most of us start out with good intentions. We will work to provide for our family. We work hard. Sometimes too hard. Then they don't appreciate us. Then they nag us. Then we just can't take it. It's a progression based on bad priorities. We take the career to support the family then we expect the family to support the career. Dude. The career is a necessary evil. We work because we have to and sometimes because we enjoy it. But, don't make it your priority. Your family is your priority. Do the job, love the family. Don't be a jerk. </div>
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Not just at work, it happens in church all the time. We like the church and want to be involved. We get involved and end up being committed. We are surrounded by other "committed" people who are burning out and dropping out. We eventually end up going from involved to committed to responsible. Then it takes over and we have another job taking us away from the family. I did it several times. Watched dozens of people follow that same pattern. Gradual transition that consumes your life and time. Once we get that deep, we end up stressed and angry. We are trying to do a good thing, but it's straining our family even more. Then they just don't understand how important this is or how much good I am doing. Then.... We are jerks. Lots of people will never be Christians simply because they know Christians. They don't see "life abundantly" or "joy unspeakable." They see boring, mindless, arrogant jerks. Like Prius drivers, the stigma is there. </div>
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This has been a long rabbit trail to make a simple point. Don't be a jerk. We can't be leaders if everyone thinks we are jerks. Our kids don't want to be around us or be like us if we are jerks. Our wives have ABSOLUTELY NO DESIRE FOR INTIMACY WITH A JERK. Even the people who hired you or introduced you to whatever world you are in, will back away eventually. Take a serious look at how you react or respond to confrontation. Take a look at how often your sentences or thoughts begin with "I" or "me." Be willing to consider the possibility that you might not be the smartest person alive. Maybe someone else understands something you don't. Maybe a little humility is worth considering. We can be good guys if we make the effort. I am a recovering jerk, I know. </div>
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Good luck with all that. And enjoy your Prius. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-13322087387093522612013-05-08T14:53:00.001-07:002013-05-08T14:53:44.871-07:00The rights of our children<br />
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I read something from Dr. James Dobson a while back, it hit me hard. Can't find the exact book to quote it from. Basically, he talked about giving our kids certain freedoms. The one he was focused on was the freedom of interruption. Honestly, don't remember more than the basic idea, but it was enough. He said one sure way to let someone know they are loved, is by your willingness to stop whatever you are doing and give them your attention. I was never like that before. Revelation. We multitask so much these days. We can watch tv, email, text, eat and sometimes even drive at the same time. (Don't) I guess our natural inclination is to just throw the kids in there with everything else, just another task. Wow.</div>
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So, since getting hit with that, I started trying it. Whenever my wife or kids approach me with a question or comment or whatever, I stop and turn to them. Most of the time. Still slip, but it's becoming habit. The change has been pretty dramatic. My wife talks to me more, and I enjoy listening to her talk. Big change from someone who could hardly look at me for almost three years. My kids seem to be more of a part of my life. They didn't change, I did. Over time, it will become a natural response, but it still seems like a challenge. Old habits die hard. Most of me still tries to add them to the multitasking. So there's one, the freedom to interrupt. </div>
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Another one is the freedom to question. My kids still struggle with this because I trained them against it. For a long time, I reacted instead of responding to questions. Didn't even hear the question. Tried that psychic mind reading technique where I figure out what they "really" want. Living defensively makes it hard to have good relationships. I tell my kids that they have the absolute right to ask questions if they don't understand something. I gave them the freedom to challenge me if I make a decision or demand that they don't understand. (Note here. If I tell them to clean their room, they don't get to challenge that. They know why.) I don't want little drones that can't think for themselves or think like lemmings. I want my kids to be able to figure out things and have the life they want, not one they were told to have. They need that freedom. It's not easy watching them make those decisions some times, but it better than watching the life drain out of them in a life they hate. Don't freak out when your kids ask questions or have different opinions. Let them ask, have a conversation, hear what they think. It's a different world. I will let you know when I am good at this one. </div>
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Freedom from doubt. Tricky one. My kids were spanked. Not violently, used a plastic spatula or wooden spoon. Tell them what they did, tell them what is going to happen, quick pop on the butt, cool down, talk about it, hug, over. There were really just two things that required a smack on the butt. Hurting someone on purpose and lying. We told them that it is very important we are able to trust you. We have to be able to take your word over everyone else. We still do. It's really hard sometimes, especially when you know that they are human and still try to get away with stuff. Harder when you know their friends are taking advantage of honest kids. I trust my kids. They know I trust them. Yes, there are still times when stuff goes wrong. But, overall, I think it has been a good policy. </div>
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One of my kids had an abusive teacher. She yelled and threatened the kids. She threw things at kids. She called them stupid. She singled her out and embarrassed my girl in class. My daughter said it had been going on all year and she hated it. One day in class, she had enough, got up and walked out. This teacher yelled at her to sit down, but she kept going and got the principal. Somehow, our daughter ended up in a situation where we had to get involved and challenge her or accept what she claimed. We took her word and told the principal she didn't lie and we stood behind her. The principal sorted it out, talked to other kids, verified the stories and fired the teacher. We took the word of a seven year old over an adult. We still trust our kids like that. Takes time and mistakes are made, but it's worth it. </div>
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That's the main three I am working on. Freedom, right, whatever you want to call it. Things they are able to do without "dad the ogre" attacking them. The right to interrupt me, the right to question me and the right to be trusted. They will test all of them. They will interrupt you to the point of madness to see if you really do it. They will ask insane questions and challenge everything for a while to see if you are serious. They will attempt to get away with things and frustrate you intentionally to find out if they really matter. Stick it out. It's all part of loving them. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-75145329624594879252013-05-06T05:46:00.001-07:002013-05-06T05:46:15.507-07:00Three people you need in your life<br />
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I learned this from Bishop Sam Drye, or possibly his wife Rheba. They have both heavily invested time and wisdom into my family. Either way, that sets the stage.</div>
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They taught me about three kinds of people we need to have in our lives. Friends, mentors and protégés. I guess a lot of us are content with just the friends, not so much with the others. But we need all three. They would qualify as mentors. People who have lived longer, learned more, done things I haven't, made more mistakes, found what works and what doesn't. The most successful people in the world will all, without exception, admit to having a mentor of some type. Coaches, pastors, teachers, parents, supervisors and writers are all types of mentors. Mentors are just people who care enough to offer us advice that can make our life better. Sometime simple stuff, sometimes serious stuff. I have compared some advice from a mentor to being handed a map of a minefield I must cross. Thankful for the map, respectful of what it took to make that map. </div>
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Friends is self explanatory. Those people who post the goofy videos on Facebook for you. The guys who you MUST have a beer with. The girls you MUST take shopping with you. The ones who really know you well enough to pick on you about stupid stuff. The ones honest enough to laugh at you when you dress like an idiot. The ones who will rush to your side when you fall, then laugh out loud and post the video. Good friends. Ones we can totally be ourselves with. We listen to their crap, they listen to ours. Our wives need those friends more than most guys understand. I didn't. Part of my abusiveness was interfering with my wife's friendships. One specifically. One of her closest friends caused the turning point in me. She chewed me out so bad one night, I went speechless. She ripped into me like a shark. She told me how my wife really felt and why I was such a jackass. A light came on. I heard that. She absolutely did not believe me when my only response was, "ok, I get it. Thank you for explaining all that." But she opened my eyes to why my wife wanted out. My wife needs friends like that. Someone who loves her enough to attack a guy 3 times her size. Your does, too. Shut up and leave her friends alone. </div>
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Protégés. That's a big word for a Georgia boy, but it's the only one that seems to work. These are the people we pour our lives into because we care about them. The guy you "coach" from the car window about how he needs driving lessons doesn't count. Your kids count. Sometimes, their friends count. The people who work under you or even with you can count. Anyone who you care about and you treat with respect and compassion can count. Bullies, tyrants, control freaks and general jackasses don't have protégés, they have subjects or victims. People who are just stuck with them. If you, like I was, qualify as one of them.... Your teaching and training are not being received. You are being tolerated. Don't be a jerk to your kid, then get mad when they defied you or ignored you. Seriously. Would you accept coaching from someone like you? Change the attitude. Offer advice. Don't cram it down their throat. Don't beat them up with how smart you are and how stupid they are. ( Humility, old post, read that one ) Do everything with compassion, keeping in mind you want to HELP. </div>
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At the moment, I do have all three in my life. The list changes from year to year, I guess that's pretty normal. Some will always be on it, some serve their time and move on. Go easy on the protégés, you won't know for years whether they listened or if your advice was good. Be humble, consider your advice carefully before dumping it on them. Go easy on the mentors, they are trying to help. They don't know everything. They aren't responsible for your happiness or intelligence for following direction. They are also not responsible for your attitude. They don't owe you. They are friends with more wisdom who want to see you do well. The friends, do what you do. Enjoy them, laugh at them, protect them or whatever you do. Forget the drama, be a friend, have a friend. </div>
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That's all I've got to say about that. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-68349866123391005352013-05-04T15:40:00.000-07:002013-05-04T15:40:00.643-07:00What the heck is she so mad about?Can I take a few minutes and explain why she gets mad about "nothing?" Very rarely is she mad about whatever you think she is mad about. Usually, we are close. Might even be the same subject, but not the reason. I don't know if I will be able to put this into the best words. I may have to rely on some stories to make this point.<br />
I have some married friends who aren't on board with my hard earned advice, yet. She is a good friend of my wife, almost like sisters when they are together. He is kinda in his own world. Heavily involved with a religious group that makes no sense to me. They notoriously pick and choose which parts of the bible they see as most important. Seems to be the parts that support however they choose to live. Good people for the most part, just hard to communicate with. He regularly uses their teachings to interfere with family issues and things that matter to her. Meanwhile, using different ones to justify whatever he wants to do. ( Don't bother asking which group, not getting into that since most do it to one extreme or another )<br />
They run their own business. They only own one vehicle, a work van. Two seats for a family of four. She has been asking him for over a year to buy a second car for her and the kids. Consistently, almost every week, asking for a car. A few days ago, another friend called him and wanted to talk. He told him how dangerous it was and how he was endangering his family by putting them in that work van. So. He goes home and informs his wife that he thinks they should buy another car. Stunned silence. Really. Why? Because his friend chewed him out and made him see the problem. She is mad at him. She is going to get the car, but she is insanely angry at him. Guys, tell me why. Before reading any farther, try to figure it out. Ready?<br />
She is mad because he doesn't listen to her. Her opinion doesn't matter. She has been practically begging for a year with no response. A buddy gets on to him for ten minutes and the world comes into focus. Make sense? It makes sense to her. He heard something that a buddy said and ignored the same thing from the most important person in his life. Get it? Here's a better one....<br />
Me. I have already written about my angry past in several. Even got into the details of listening (let it go) and actually hearing. My family has a great history of refusing to forgive and move on. Some of them have defined their whole life by a few tragic things in their past. I ended doing the same thing. Spent ten years growing dark and angry over things in my life that were just wrong. It was always there, I was trained to stay angry. Trained by some of the best. Sarcasm and frustration gradually evolved into hatred and darkness. Bitterness was always in my attitude. I got mean. From the first year of our marriage, my wife told me to just let that stuff go. She told me every time it showed up. Never heard her. In our private counseling session with<a href="http://bestmarriage.com/" target="_blank">Joel and Kathy Davisson</a>, Kathy told me that I could just let it go. I did. They didn't believe me at first. I understood. It made sense. I could just let it go. My wife wasn't impressed. She was glad that it finally clicked, but seriously pissed off that I heard it from someone else.<br />
We generally assume that the final, finished product is all that really matters. We rarely consider the issues and details along the way. She does. Everything we say and do confirms her as that very important person, or shows her that she doesn't really matter. Our intentions might be good, but our actions tell her the story. Most guys are ok with taking the same amount of time trying to convince her that he loves her than just spending the same energy to show her.<br />
So, she is mad because your actions, attitude, behavior, decisions or whatever it is, tell her that she isn't as important as you say. There are usually more things than just that, but that seems to be the core of it. You can't fake that stuff. You can't just talk a good game and get away with it. You have to take the time to really know her and what matters to her. Then you have to make the effort to put all that new information into daily practice. It's no different than learning any new skill. You have to put in the time and effort to make your home happy. She's not the thermostat, either. You are. You set the tone by loving her right and listening. Don't put that pressure on her. Step up, be the man, take responsibility for your home and marriage. Just like a busted pipe or a blown fuse, there's a problem. Find the problem, fix the problem, take the steps to prevent it from becoming a problem again.<br />
Take some time to make a list this week. Make a list of the things that make her happy. Things she enjoys. Things that are important to her. Then make another list of things she doesn't like. Be as thorough as possible, everything you can think of. Then let her read the list. See how close you are. Let her correct anything she doesn't agree with. Then thank her and study that list. It's like having a cheat sheet for the relationship. Do this, don't do that. Simple. It's just a good starting point. A guide for ways to make life good for her.<br />
You guys have a great week.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-2944176840932744052013-04-29T05:44:00.001-07:002013-04-29T05:44:28.173-07:00The art of telling great lies<br />
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Yeah, I am gonna go there. I have gotten to spend some time with a young BS artist recently. He says whatever he thinks will get him the results he wants. Like most amateur con men, he's the only one who thinks he is getting away with it. We have all come to the point where we just assume he is lying about everything. Makes it easier to deal with him.</div>
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I have had to explain some of this to my kids recently, and to our aspiring politician. I grew up looking for ways to con people. I got really good at it. At 16 years old, I had convinced most of the local liquor stores in my hometown that I was 23. Never showed an ID, just talked a good game. Apparently I also have ogre in my blood, it helps when you can grow a solid mustache at 14. I went merrily along, pretty smug because I thought I was outsmarting everyone all the time. I fudged my way through school like that, too. Mostly. Until it kinda ran out and I gave up. Just walked out and quit high school at 16. Still blows my mind that at 16, I was even allowed to make a choice like that. My smooth talk just took me as far as it could, there were no results. My elaborate tree had no fruit.</div>
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There's this classic joke, has to go in here. Sorry about the language.</div>
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A turkey and a bull are standing in a pasture, next to a very tall tree. The turkey is sad, the bull asks why. Seems that all the turkey wants out of life, is to be able to fly to the top of that tree, but he can't do it. The bull informs him that his poop has magic powers that will lift him to the top. So, the turkey eats some bull poop and tried it. Goes way higher than ever before, but not high enough. So, the bull says he needs more and whips up a fresh batch. The turkey, uh, gobbles it up. Turns to the tree and flies straight up to the highest branch. He then turns to flap his wings and wave at the bull when a hunter blasts him out of the tree. The moral of the story? Bullshit might get you to the top, but it won't keep you there.</div>
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I figured out, early on how to mix in enough truth that most people would never be able to pick out the lie. Kinda like mixing a small dog turd into a batch of brownies. Who would really know? Might suspect something wasn't right, but couldn't really pick it out. The other magical thing I learned was how to convince myself first. See. If I believed my own garbage, it was much easier to convince someone else. So, to tell the great lies, I had to manipulate the truth into it to disguise it. Then I went over it in my mind until it wasn't just a possibility, it became real to me. Even I believed it.</div>
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It's hard watching people do this when I see the process. Right now, I am watching a very amazing young lady, get suckered in by this for at least the third time. Young guys, who probably have good intentions, have convinced her that they know what love is and that she should give herself to them. Always some guy she has known for a while. Always someone who knows her and enough about her to be trusted. Always someone who talks a good game. They are all going to get shot out of the tree. That BS cannot keep someone "in love" when there's no substance. Telling someone over and over that you loves them doesn't mean crap. Talking big on Facebook and telling the world you love them doesn't mean crap. Making big promises and playing someone's emotions like you have the intention of making their dreams come true.... Again.... Just crap. </div>
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Ladies, may I offer a challenge. (Since I already figured out it's mostly ladies who read this anyway) put on some X-ray glasses and take a look through the poop. I want you to compare yourself to a newborn baby for a minute. That baby is loved regardless of what it does. The parents have absolutely no benefit from this tiny, stinky wrecking machine than the joy of being part of it's life. The baby pukes on them, they just clean it up. The kid knocks Cheerios into the far reaches of the galaxy, parents clean it up. The kid blows out a diaper on the front walkway of the house, one that almost requires intervention from the EPA..... The parents clean it up. Still love that child. Still happy to hold it an care for it. Probably some sarcastic jokes about the messes, but never enough to consider letting it go. That's a pretty solid example of love. The parents, for the joy of having that child in their world, care for it with no real thought of how it benefits them. Really. The kid has no job, lays around all day, cries for everything, pouts when it doesn't get it's way, eats but never cooks or cleans, makes messes without ever touching a vacuum or washer.... We are still talking about the baby. Not your man. I hope. That's all fair from a baby, not an adult male. </div>
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To the ladies, I say, don't put up with a guy like that, expect more. Don't put out for him either. The liars and mooches will move on to an easier target if the relationship has no benefit for them. To the guys, I say, don't be a jackass. Stop convicting yourself that it's ok to be a toddler. Love your wife without the immaturity of expecting her to respond or for everything to benefit you. </div>
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And. To the single ladies out there. For cryin' out loud, stop letting every amateur con artist have your heart or your body. If they don't see you playing a little defense, they will go for the end zone every time. Don't just hear what they say, watch what they do. Skeptically. Protect yourself a little. Like I said, the best lies involve convincing yourself first. Just because a guy truly believes he is in love, doesn't mean he has any idea what that really is. </div>
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One more time. Visit <a href="http://BestMarriage.co.com">Joel and Kathy</a> and read a little. Join their forums and find out what kind of junk people allow into their lives. See how much work it takes to put yourself back together after you allow some loser free reign to ruin your life. You deserve better. My wife and daughters deserve better than they have had. I am still learning and growing. Not hiding behind the BS anymore. Not waiting to see how any of these relationships benefit me. I love them because I love them. And just for the record, I have ZERO tolerance for any more losers interfering with any of my girls. Yes. That is a legitimate threat. Have a nice day. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-61577788401208161182013-04-23T06:11:00.000-07:002013-04-23T06:11:30.329-07:00I am going to pick a fight!<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Might be crossing a line with this one. But, in the words of Mel Gibson pretending to be William Wallace.... "I'm going to pick a fight!"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">There are three young ladies who mean the world to me. Oddly enough, they all look a lot like my bride. Wonderful girls with hearts of gold. Each one wonderful and unique, but enough alike that they become one single happy personality when you put them all together. Easy to love or fall in love with ladies like that.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">They saw me at my worst. They saw my attitude become dark and caustic. They saw me transform into a monster. They know how our marriage started, how in love we were and what we have been through. They know what kind of butthead I became. Two of them have been through the crap with a guy like me. They started off like the perfect guy but changed after the wedding. (Go read my last few posts about all the reasons) They started off seeing these girls as who they wanted them to be. Beautiful, funny and potentially perfect trophy wives. The dating game didn't work out. It should have been a time to learn each other, but it wasn't. The guys didn't learn the girls, didn't take the time to understand them and their needs. The marriages were doomed by nice guys who talk good but don't listen. Pretty common problem. Like I told my girls, the big difference between you and me... At one time, I WAS a teenage boy. Yep. I know what goes on inside a guy's head. I was that guy who talked a good game but never really delivered. I was that jerk who told the girls whatever they wanted to hear. The guy who made promises he never intended to keep. (Sorry to the poor girls who expected more out of me back then) I am a recovering jackass. Trust me, I am practically an expert on how guys operate. So, here's my challenge....</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Not just to these three perfect ladies, but to any single ladies out there (Especially the ones who seem to be loser magnets.) I want you to test these guys. Size them up before you make any commitment to them. Think about it like an investment. You are about to commit to something that will affect the rest of your life. You don't buy a house or a car or even a cheeseburger without giving it some thought. Why would you jump into a relationship with someone who just gives you information without letting you negotiate the deal? Don't you shop around before buying a car? Don't you visit several houses before signing a contract? Don't you consider health ratings and the condition of the bathroom before deciding to eat that cheeseburger? One great piece of advice I got about investments. "The high majority of decisions are purely emotional. Emotional decisions are rarely good ones." Used car salesmen know about the "walk away." That customer who doesn't need to argue, or haggle or complain. They put an offer out there, state their case and shut up. If their offer isn't good enough, they just walk away and find someone who will meet their conditions. Don't be afraid to walk away. Don't sell yourself short and get stuck with a potential abuser. Filter out the losers. Being alone is probably better than neglected or abused.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So, test them. Here's the trick, don't EVER tell them it's a test. Ask for something and see if it happens. Mention what your favorite candy or flower is, casually. Give it a few days or a week and mention that you would love some candy or flowers. Do not tell them what kind, tell them to just pick something. Do not make excuses for them later. When you mention that you love payday bars because you love peanuts and hate chocolate, there's no excuse for getting a three musketeers handed to you. If you mention that you love daisys because they are simple with no thorns, there's no excuse for getting a rose. Seriously. It's not petty stuff, it's the details that add up to perfection. If you tell a guy you are a vegan and can't even be around meat, don't even look back when he takes you to Burger King. You might have a friend to hang out with, but not a great match for lifelong companionship.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Honestly, when a guy just blathers on about how much he loves you, without ANY REAL EVIDENCE, he doesn't or doesn't understand love at all. Most guys use love to get sex and girls use sex to get love. When most guys say "I love you" to a pretty young thing it means they want in their pants. But, most guys honestly think they understand love and that's just part of it. It's not. Give yourself to the guy who loves you completely. Who knows you. The guy who does good things for you and has a track record for being honest and dependable. If he's divorced, don't be afraid to do a "credit check" with the ex-wife. She can probably tell you stuff you are going to learn the hard way. You don't have to sneak around either. Does he have something to hide?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I am not about bashing other guys. Seriously. I just can't take watching my favorite people treated like doormats or abused. I desperately want them to meet that guy who loves them as much as their family. The guy who understands how valuable and precious they are. And, as parents. Look at it like this. At the wedding, you are handing off a family treasure to someone who promises to take care of it. How are you going to feel when you visit and see it damaged and neglected? I know how I felt.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We can't all make perfect decisions. We, as men, are not perfect and will make mistakes. We just can't keep making the same ones over and over. Men can change, if they see a legitimate need and decide to do it. Ladies, don't commit to an idiot thinking you can change him. You won't. Just think about it. Decide your own value before you let someone else tell you.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Sorry about the rabbit trail here. Just needed to run awhile.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-21073005217815906592013-04-22T19:12:00.001-07:002013-04-22T19:12:30.120-07:00Where it all beganSo there I was, minding my own business.....<br />
I was 15 years old, freshman in high school, in a weight lifting class in the the gym. Just finding my way around. Meeting new people. Getting used to high school. Then she walked in.<br />
The first time I saw her, I was completely stunned. She was beautiful. She was completely different from every other girl at school. She had my full attention. Really. I don't remember anything else that day. Just her. No. I didn't talk to her. The thought almost made me throw up. Actually, I don't think I ever spoke a word to her in school. She was out of my league. I was the goofy pothead kid. The clown, the grease monkey, the long haired freak. It was 1986 and I was a weird kid even during that era. She was perfect. At least in my mind, where she spent a lot of time.<br />
The first time I remember speaking to her was a strange day. My dad, who had never done anything like this....ever, came home and made me get in the car. "You have to see this girl." That's all I got out him for the 10 minute ride. He had stopped at a little drug store where she was working. He was blown away by her whole presence. So he made me go in and buy something just to meet her. We talked for a few seconds, nothing earth shattering. That was it. He was a little disappointed that we weren't planning the wedding while I was in there. I told him, she went to my school and I know who she is. That was the end of it.<br />
A year or so later, her brother became one of my best friends. Hadn't really thought about her much by then, she was still way out of my league. We got a job together at a nursery and landscape company. One day, the owners mother threw a fit at us for no good reason and fired us. We were stranded because we had been dropped off. He called his mom, then his sister, left messages but nobody answered. So we began the eight or nine mile walk back to town. Less than a mile from work, his parents pulled up. Seconds later, so did his sister. His parents were in a single cab truck that we weren't both going to fit into, so he told me to just ride with her. Dang. They drove off and I got into her little car. I was considering throwing up again. She was so polite, and friendly and hot. I was stressing out so bad I made her let me out three miles from home. I had to get out of that car. I couldn't handle sitting that close to the most beautiful girl I had ever spoken to. Seriously. Panic. She thought there was something wrong with me, and there was. That was a long slow walk home.<br />
Maybe another year went by, I was now 18 and had just ended a fairly serious relationship that I just didn't know what to do with. Me and her brother just ran wild for a while. We did the standard list of stupid stuff and just hung out. One day, he suggests we go see his sister, who had her own place. That was pretty much the last time it was just me and him.<br />
She was a blast to hang out with. I loved every minute with her. She was fun and tough and quickly became my absolute best friend. I wanted to be with her every day. When I finally got the nerve to ask her out for a real date, she said yes and I panicked again. Didn't go back for a week or so. Once I did, her weird friends started making up stories to get rid of me. But, I finally got that date, kinda. Me and her brother went to see her one night and she was leaving to go to a party with her weird friends. I offered to drive her, since I had a van. We pulled into this yard full of weirdos and got out. She started talking to everyone and just wandered off from us. I tried talking to some folks, but the freakometer was up pretty high. I didn't want to be there, I wanted to be with here. So I stole her purse from inside and threw it in the back of the van. When she walked back out, we climbed in and cranked it up. I yelled to her and said we were leaving. When she got close, I asked if she wanted her purse. "Yes, where is it?" I told her it was in the back. When she climbed in to get it, I dropped the clutch and took off. Yep. Our first date was a kidnapping.<br />
A few weeks later, we were having a going away party for a friend at my house. I got frustrated and left. Walked up the street to a park and sat down. I prayed for the first time in years. "God, if there is a person who is right for me, you need to put them in front of me because I don't know what to do." What I didn't know was that she was at my house right then looking for me. Not 10 seconds after that little prayer, I saw her walking across the park. The rest is history.<br />
Actually, the rest is the subject of this blog. Somewhere along the way, I forgot how precious she was. I forgot how miraculous our relationship was. I forgot how amazing and wonderful she was. She became just a wife to me. I neglected and abused her. But, 20 years later, we got back on track. After almost losing her, we are better than ever now. Thank God.<br />
I am a blessed man. We have four amazing kids. We are in a good place. Life is becoming almost surreal some days. Not perfect yet, but amazing. I am writing this log to encourage men to become better. To stop neglecting and abusing that amazing woman you committed your life to. Take some time this week to remember how you met. Write it out. Think about it. If you make the effort to show her that she is still as precious today as she was then, it can all start to change. She needs it and so do you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-79976782802959764122013-04-18T17:13:00.000-07:002013-04-18T17:13:32.072-07:00Dog FartsYes. Seriously. Let's have a deep meaningful post about dog farts. Here we go.<br />
I have an 85 pound chubalub German shepherd that is getting up there in the dog years. I also have kids. It has been a running joke in the house, whenever someone farts, we blame the dog. Usually it's with a surprised outburst of her name, followed by relentless complaining. The dog has been trained to get up and leave the room whenever she hears a sound that even resembles a fart. ( nothing but the classy material here. ) She's old and fat now. So her getting up and leaving includes grunts and moaning that sounds like complaining. Funny stuff. Well, now the joke is on us. Now it really is her. She does it constantly. Nasty ones. Creepy sounding ones. Everyone get up and leave when she gets up for no apparent reason. It's awful. Sounds like a wet balloon deflating the last of the air.<br />
My point? She got trained to respond to our reactions. Even though we were just playing around, she got trained to get up and leave whenever the air got thick. She somehow understood we were picking on her and now it's a regular reaction. We do the same thing. We have been trained our whole lives to respond certain ways to certain scenarios. We have developed a lot of pointless, maybe harmful, habits because of how people around us have responded. We have trained ourselves to do stuff that we honestly can't explain. .<br />
During our marriage counseling, I learned that a high percentage of men can't hear anything corrective from a female. We have trained ourselves to cut her off, ignore her, imagine she is saying something else or just blocking her out completely. I did it. I had no idea I was doing it. I was guilty of letting my brain click over to autopilot whenever my wife tried to talk to me. I had developed a habit with no logical explanation.<br />
There's other stuff, too. Arguing. I had developed a talent for arguing about everything. Even stuff that didn't matter. Just arguing for the sake of it. Stalling. She asked me to do things and I would intentionally put it off. At least for a few minutes. Maybe it was a control issue. Even stuff that I could have done right then with no extra effort. It was always, "give me a minute" or "sure" or "as soon as I get done with this." Most of the time I ended up not even doing it. Jerk. Stepping over things. Stuff on the floor, step over it and leave it for her. Spill something, leave it for her. Things that obviously need to be done, act like I didn't see it. Light bulbs burned out, clothes on the floor, trash can full, newspapers all over the driveway, empty milk jug in the fridge, dishes piled up in the sink, etc. etc. etc. Like every minute of my life was more important that hers. Like the extra 3 seconds it took to grab the clothes off the floor was a waste of my life. Sure, I can cram the trash down an inch and make it the next person's problem. No, I didn't notice any of that. Yeah. Jerk. Don't even mention that empty toilet paper roll. Most guys refuse to pull that empty tube off and put the new roll on. Why? Why do we train ourselves to avoid doing things when it takes almost the same effort to do it? We apparently don't understand the benefits of having our wives know that they are loved and respected by every little action. Most guys couldn't care less if they are using the toilet paper roll off the back of the toilet or off the holder. Doesn't matter to us. Most of us would be perfectly content to live out of the dryer and never hang or fold anything. We will gladly stand in front of an open refrigerator and eat dinner without using dishes. We are fine with just pulling dishes out of the dishwasher as we need them. All that stuff honestly makes sense to us. But not our wives. Why? They generally like order and structure. They like having things in their place. ( yes, there are always exceptions. ) They like for their home to be a sanctuary where there is peace. We see it as a place to drink beer and watch tv when we aren't working. Yep.<br />
Guys, we need to change some of these habits. We need to put a little effort into seeing things from their perspective and figuring out what makes their world a happy place. Neglecting them and the things that matter to them creates these bad habits. Just like 85 pound chubalub dog farts, it's stuff we are better off without. Step up. Do right.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8140467361930484274.post-74728642574568773642013-04-16T05:01:00.001-07:002013-04-16T05:01:11.861-07:00Responsibilities and benefitsGoing to attempt to make this short and simple. Most of us guys have pretty short attention spans anyway.<br />
Here's the scenario. I have grass in my yard. It look better short, the neighbors appreciate it being short and the little man from the city who gives out fines likes it short. So what the heck did I do? I bought a lawn mower. I felt that to have a need meant I should go find the solution. Grass need cutting. I need a mower. Simple enough. But, there's stuff that mower needs if I intend to get more than one season out of it. Gas. The stupid thing needs gas. Even though I just put gas in it, it needs more. And oil. If that dipstick isn't showing clean oil at the right level, I don't have a mower very long. Blades. It had blades. They need to be sharpened. They have to be tight. They have to be the right size and type for my mower. If I mow lots of rocks and pine cones and random trash, they need to be checked. Wheels. Let one fall off and see how much fun mowing is. Gotta take care of the wheels. What else? Fuel lines and filters, oil changes, maybe a battery, muffler and a few dozen random bolts that shake loose. Yes, there's a point. And yes, I am about to compare our wives to mowers.<br />
We searched for a bride because we had needs. We wanted to be with someone. We wanted a companion, lover, baby maker, friend and someone to grow old with. Most women are very willing to step into those roles for the right guy. The guy who is willing to meet their needs as well. But very often, like my last post covered, we don't. We assume the whole marriage purpose was to meet our needs. Once her needs show up, there's a problem.<br />
Like the story I heard of the old farmer sitting on the porch while his phone kept ringing. When his neighbor finally walked over and asked him why he wouldn't answer, he said... "I put that thing in for my convenience. I'll get up and use it when I need something." Pure stubborn selfishness.<br />
Well guys, guess what happens when you go too long ignoring the needs of your lawn mower? It has to be replaced or starts costing you time and money to fix it. Just like ignoring the needs of your wife. Eventually you don't have one or you have a lot of serious issues to fix. Counseling, books, therapy, prescriptions, etc. all get expensive once someone is pushed too far. Yeah, I would have probably assumed this was for someone else, too. If I had found this before the hammer fell in my house.<br />
I heard another great story that relates. As it was told to me...<br />
A man went to a railroad auction, thinking a railroad freight car would make a good workshop in his property. They were auctioning off sealed cars that has lost the shipping records. Didn't know what was inside. The man finally got one, went for less than $1500, as I was told. After he paid for it they cut the locks. Inside were two 1955 Chevy Belair two door hard tops. Neither had more than 10 miles on it. All his. Perfectly preserved, all original. Virtually priceless.<br />
Cool story. So what? Well. Anyone with enough time, money, persustence can pull any car out of a junkyard and restore it to perfection. Or. You can start with a good thing and preserve it by caring for it and treating it right. Take care of your marriage by caring for your wife.<br />
I am that guy that drove the wheels off. Not really maintaining anything. Trying to fix only the big problems and ignoring the small daily needs. Almost destroyed my family. I was a jackass. Still recovering. Long way left to go. But I found the road home. On the way. Following people who have already made the trip and love it. <a href="http://bestmarriage.com/" target="_blank">( Joel and Kathy )</a><br />
So. Before someone tells me that mowers and cars are different because they come with manuals, let me add something. That bride of your has a manual. She teaches from it daily. Every minute you spend listening to her gives you a daily lesson from that manual. She is telling you what she likes. What she needs and wants. What makes her happy and sad. What she wants out of life. What she wants you to do more, and less. Listen. Read the manual.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02241680384402406230noreply@blogger.com0