Trust

"Trust is earned in drops but lost in buckets." - Anon.

I knew her for 10 years and dated for a year before we married. An hour afterwards, she tells me: "Now that I've hooked you, let me tell you the way it's really going to be."

Horror!

You think I have trust issues? Yes, and that was 27 years ago, and the marriage immediately crumbled. Of course, I have trouble trusting people... who doesn't?

Horror stories abound on a range of issues, primarily financial... but it's all about trusting people... with getting work done and with growing our retirement fund... or not.

At my building, top management went to the same church. Because they knew and trusted each other, there was preferential treatment, of course. If you need to get something done, you get someone that you know (trust) will do it.

Specific trust.

Life is all about specific trusted relationships... knowing who can be trusted with what. Specialists, if you will. We shop for a doctor who will refer us to other specialists but we don't ask him about career advice. We also trust mother with dinner but not with love advice.

I enjoy my weightlifting workouts with my buddy Dallas but don't trust him about cardio because he gets winded jogging a hundred yards. I enjoy bicycling with buddy Ray but not weightlifting because he can't. I enjoy others because I trust them... in some way.

Putting trust in another can either be risky and awful, or a wonderful trusted relationship.


- text copyright 2014 by Willy

Out Of What Box?

I like myself, and I like my world.

I'm getting too experienced to do things much differently. I've honed my activities and procedures throughout the years into something that works for me.

For instance, I do not speed... I usually drive slower than the speed limit, unless I'm on the Interstate... and I've been like that since I bought my Vette in '73. Back then, one of the gals at work said "Some old guy was driving your new car!" and I answered "It was me!"

I've got to be me.

I'm good to the core and am also trainable, to some extent, but don't bullstuff me. Some other way may not work for me, and vice-versa. Tell me what you want, but don't tell me how to do it.

When bicycling or hiking, my second and third layers are zippered so as to better control body temperature and evaporation... and I use a convenient water bladder rather than bottles, food bars rather than meals.

Also, if somebody is mean in any way, I disconnect... whether it's a work association, a friendship or a relationship. All it takes is one bitching out or one sleazy action. Life is too short to put up with those people. There are plenty of nice people out there, and solitude is an excellent option.

As it is, every day brings something different to me. My daily prayer is for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Theme and variation.

Actually, we all follow the theme and variation concept. I can accommodate and adapt, to an extent, but Popeye said "I am what I am and that's all that I am." And they say that you can't teach a pig to sing because it wastes your time and it annoys the pig.

I also believe we must treat people nicely, because of Karma... you reap what you sow. It's best to either accept or give up the pig... whether its them or me.

This pig likes a regimented and disciplined life, with variations. Yesterday it was carpet shampooing and weightlifting. Today it's gym cardio and office cleanup. Tomorrow is hiking and dinner out.


My workouts follow the theme and variation concept... a different one every day that include many different types of cardio, lifting, flexibility and relaxation.

It's natural.

Nature invented the theme and variation concept. Sundown always follows sunrise but there may be rain, heat or cold to accept. If you don't like it... tough. Nature sets the rhythm.


- copyright 2014 by Willy.

A Smile to My Face

Q: "What makes life worth it?" A:"Anything that brings a smile to my face!"

If I ever make it to old age, it will be because of the smiles. Sure, there's motherhood and apple pie, family and friends, truly nice/beautiful people, the splendor of nature, the physics of detail, and so on. All of that matters... but number one is just good laughing-out-loud kind of fun smiles. My favorites are (1) Slapstick, as in the Pink Panther and Home Alone movie series, and (2) Silliness, like in absurdity... which is everywhere. I've got to laugh at political theater, among others (What? Do politicians really think we buy their drama?). Given a choice on what to watch on TV, I choose comedy... but with news a close second. The way I laugh at the news, somebody will surely take me away sometime. News has the silliest content ever. I choose to laugh until my belly hurts.

One item in the news today made me smile in a different way. Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut, is getting absolutely swamped with mail. Floor to ceiling, semi truck loads... of handmade snowflakes, sympathy cards, favorite football cards and piggybank money. "It's awesome," said the PTA president. "From children, just like us," said a local child at the recent tragedy. "That much love multiplied this many times," said the narrator. It made me smile all over.

My new year's resolution is to smile more... every which way.

- © 2013 by Willy

It's All About What We Want

Yes, it's our choice, it's our mindset, and it's our attitude.

My front yard has a brick flowerbed with a variety of planted flowers. Out my front door I see gorgeous sunsets every evening. The back yard always has wildflowers blooming, beautiful fall leaf colors and year-round wild animals and birds. I feed, plant and enjoy it. I find it comfortable, soothing and entertaining... and good for my mental health. But I confess that I will see a beautiful view even if I was looking at a brick wall. Just because I want to.

I also stay very busy at work, where I think of myself contributing and indispensable, with daily battles between right and wrong. In a visible setting, in spite of reprimands, I help good people... anonymously when I can... and stay away from the bad. Because I can and want to.

I don't have tinnitus, arthritis/joint/back pain and my feet don't hurt. Instead, I listen to people and do activities to the max. This in turn allows me to further enjoy sun and trees, sweat and wind... life. Because I want to.

I invite my Higher Power in, and my conscience is always talking to me. Decision are thought out in consensus. So it is all about what I want out of life. I've discussed this with my monk friends: it's all about evoking self-discipline, now; about continuously controlling thoughts and attitudes; and about discipline of the eyes. After some mistakes in life, I want to.

It's about watching your form while you lift. It's work, but otherwise you tear yourself up.

And it's about living the dream.


- © by Willy

We Are All Peculiar

"Yep, he rode over a pothole that threw him. He broke his clavicle but also several ribs that poked and deflated a lung, sending him into ICU. He is now working from home."

"You guys are nuts! Why do you ride?"

"Because it's fun... most of the time."


I love to ride my bikes, just like I did when I was a kid. So, I do, when I can. I maintain and ride them all, with various degrees of success and frequency. And with a certain amount of risk. I have four bikes: my commuter hardtail with slicks, my Mtb four-link with Fox, my carbon road, and my very old, heavy and bulletproof college Schwinn 10-speed. And I'm always tinkering with them, cleaning and lubricating. I've had multiple accidents, some due to cars and some due to other cyclists. I've not had a solo accident since 1998 when I bought SPD-clip pedals, fell over at the first stop sign and bruised my ego.

Everybody has a peculiar love. My love is machines. I have a safe full of guns, from a scoped 30'06 to my .22 college Colt Woodsman, that I love to dissasemble and clean. Guns are risky too, especially due to idiots at the outdoor gun range. I have three cars: my old rusted "stealth" truck (women don't see me), my "locker-room" van, and my old Vette. Truck and Vette are tiny and have no airbag. So, my drug of choice is machines. My son's is computer games. My daughter is hooked on people.

All engineers like machines. A friend is into cameras, another has kayaks, and one has collections of collections stored in several garages. The older we are, the more we've accumulated, but I'm trying to reduce my junk to become simpler and more portable so that if I retire, I can fit into an apartment with bus access to give up cars. Unfortunately, I'm having a tough time deciding on a home for the Vette. I love the Vette. The Vette I ordered from the factory in September 1972 which now needs some electrical detective work and a new paint job, otherwise it's delightful, functional and pristine... which is what a machine needs to be, if not people.

Machines don't bitch and don't create a mess, but do require space, time and money... just like a wife and kids do. Even my iRobot Roomba vacuum cleaner dog-substitute requires an overhaul every three years. And all machines have risk as compared to not doing or having anything at all. But compared to people with their complexity, high maintenance, games played, outrageous demands, uncontrolled emotions and unsolvable problems... machines are no risk at all.

Less is better. Of everything... machines and people. Especially the love of.


-© 2010 by Willy

Summertime

"Didn't you get my text?" Dallas said. "It's 102 degrees!"

I had already done my cardio warm-up, my rotator cuff warm-up routine, and was doing light pecs and delts. The dumbbells felt hot to the touch, like a cast iron skillet on the stove. Sweating was profuse. It was a lot more than 102 inside that unairconditioned tin building of a gym.

"No," I said, "what did it say?"

Dallas made a face.

I put my dumbbells down. "Go home to your wife and your air-conditioner!" I said.

"To my iced tea and taking it easy!" he said as we left, smiling.

In the South, it's summertime and the living is easy. Fish are biting and the cotton is high. And air-conditioning is sipping iced tea while resting in the shade.

Being from the deep south... and growing up with no air-conditioning at school, home, car nor buses... 102 degrees to me just means drinking cold liquids continuously to let it go straight through and do a heat exchange. For my riding and hiking, I load my Camelbak with ice and top it off with water. This time of year, I am so hydrated that I have to pee several times during the night. On weekend days, I prefer bicycling and hiking first thing in the morning. On weekdays, I do what I can. After work today, I hiked 6 miles in 99 degrees but under the canopy. Last Saturday we rode twentysomething miles in the sun. The heat doesn't bother me if I consistently stay with the program, stay consistent to get attuned to changing temps gradually, and drink fluids. High temps are part of training and conditioning. I won't accept anything else.

I choose to practice how I play.

And the living is easy.

- text © 2010 by Willy

Detecting Residual Depression

Everything is relative. Comparison is necessary. A baseline, cornerstone or control case is absolutely essential, since measuring is done FROM a point.

When I find the measurement reference point from which I can judge progress, status or closure, I am a happy man.

I accidentally got a unexpected breakthrough recently in a three-year depression issue which I did not know I still had. It had to do with The Ex ignoring me when I ran into her after not having seen her for over three years. If she had instead pleasantly interacted with me that day, I would have been weak and possibly reopened undesired emotions. But, since she is what she is, she put my fears to rest and I was fortunate that, by ignoring me, she actually helped me with closure.

My world was bright but it's even brighter now.

It had been taking me an infinite amount of self-analysis in determining if my thinking is rational or erratic. I've found that not everything needs an explanation (yes, a strange statement coming from an engineer). Sometimes, things just happen because we choose for them to. I gave the devil her power. It was my choice. No more.

- © 2010 by WIlly

The Why Of It...

My daughter had a boyfriend heartache, so she came home to talk to an old friend. The breakthrough came: "She told me something powerful: 'You may be all the Jesus some people see.'"

Now, that's a terrific solution statement, no matter what the problem is, but it's difficult for this ol' engineer to understand matters of the heart. Experience 'em, yes, but understand, no. Engineers do heads, not hearts.

I had earlier reminded her that the last stage in grief is acceptance, but now I just listened and took her out and showed her some stress-reducing things that work for me and may work for her too, like feeding the ducks and hanging out by a gurgling brook. We hiked in my backyard mountain... the inchworms were raining down this weekend, no doubt incubating in our oak-pine-hickory canopy above, but more about that some other time.

You would think that figuring out life is easy... that the number of heartaches someone will experience in their lifetime (Nh) is equal to the number of temptations (Nt) that occur times the probability of succumbing to temptation given the temptation (Ps/t). But life is not an equation Nh = Nt x Ps/t. And Ps/t is tough to figure. Life is not Yes or No, Black or White... it's endless grayscale, infinite graduations of brightness and hues of an uncountable number of colors, with a timescale and with many strings attached.

But I do agree that cutting down the number of temptations, and me behaving like Jesus, does result in a simpler life with less heartache... for me and for you too.


- © 2010 by Willy

Inspiration

The daffodils bloomed, I noticed this morning after another week out of town... this one attending an important week-long meeting for work. Maybe the blooms were there before but I haven't been home much and I've been too busy to notice. Something tells those things to bloom at this time every year, whether somebody is around to see it or not.

Why did I bloom? ... and acquire my past and current responsibilities? Why not stock a grocery store? Why did I pursue the dream instead of staying home and taking care of my mother? Or of my crazy ex? Why did I even have the dream? Did I get "lucky," or was it inspiration... spiritus... the divine breath?

Does the fact that I bloomed matter? Do I delight someone's gaze? Did I help something happen or help somebody out? Have I made a difference? Did I contribute? Did I follow The Plan? Those are good questions that may or may not have an answer, but I hope for the affirmative.

But I did not bloom by myself, and I am counting on staying on... on the straight and narrow... by using a wish and a prayer. That seems to work better than anything else.


- © 2010 by Willy

P.S., Chaos Theory says that everybody and everything matters.

Accept

I've long known that people aren't machines, and that relationships aren't equations.


That thought comes up often. Whenever I meet a difficult person (I dealt with two of them at a wedding yesterday), my thoughts automatically go to the fact that I'm glad I live alone with my machines. I tolerate rude people for a short time but am glad that I don't have to deal long-term with them... I go home and they go to their unfortunate spouses.

Relationships only work if you can stand the pain, and I won't. I detach. My life is full, exciting, tiring and surprising, but there is no longer room for the excitement of adversity. I'm truly thankful that I am where I am. It has been an active choice. Relaxing solo is my great joy, and adventure is my excitement.


- © 2010 by Willy

Outplay Them

"Excuse me... do you have the time?" said one of the two young men in front of the mall's record store this morning.

Translated it means "Hold on there until my buddy blindsides you. And, by the way, do you wear a Rolex?"

I said "No" forcefully and kept a fast pace. He wanted to know when the store opens. I said a second "No." He walked after me in frustration as I kept him in my peripheral vision, but finally stopped.

The next step would have been to press the button on my switchblade.

This was early on a Sunday morning, while walking the mall due to inclement weather. I carry my handgun at night but seldom go out then, and haven't been in a bar in a decade or two. I haven't had an incident like this in years and years. I live in Podunk and we have little crime.

I'm 60 years old and so many pounds have transferred from my chest to my gut that it seems I've gotten to the point that I no longer repel punks. I remember the good old days when some road rage idiot would get out of his car, I got out of mine and he stopped cold, mumbling while he got back in.

The truth is that I can no longer fistfight nor run away, so my options are down to being more aware, reducing opportunities for incidence, and increasing the counter-lethality to match.


If you can't outrun them, outplay them.

But if I cannot evade, outplay or outthink them, I will shoot.




- text © 2009 by Willy

Watch The Nutrition

Two Alligators were sitting around the gym after their workout, talking nutrition.

The smaller Gator turned to the bigger one and said, "I can"t understand how you can be so much bigger than me. We're the same age, we were the same size as kids... I just don't get it."

"Well," said the big Gator, "what have you been eating?"

"Politicians, same as you," replied the small Gator [or Lawyers, Ex'es or whatever].

"Hmm... well, where do you catch them?"

"Down the other side of the swamp near the parking lot."

"Same here! How do you catch them?"

"Well, I crawl up under a car and wait for one to unlock the car door. Then I jump out, grab them by the leg, shake the crap out of them and eat them!"

"Ah!" says the big Gator, "I think I see your problem. You're not getting any real nourishment. See, by the time you finish shaking the crap out of a politician, there's nothing left but a briefcase."

---------

Moral of the story: (1) Watch what you eat... don't eat crap, (2) Bigger is not always better... some people and some Gators are just full of it, and (3) Maybe you're OK just the way you are.

Crafting Each Day Into a Masterpiece

There are all kinds of people. Some people enjoy the challenge of winning a game through manipulation. Some people enjoy the chaos and drama that their bad choices make. Some people enjoy venting their rage at others due to their own inadequacies. Others enjoy being led by lust hormones. And yet others enjoy just being stoned into another world, doing nothing. Many do all of the above.

If there were no fools, there would be no wise men.

Lucky for me that I chose to enjoy crafting each day into a masterpiece.

I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment each and every day. And I enjoy others who feel and do the same. I put my name on my achievements, as well as that of all my helpers. My life is a do-it-yourself shop with ant-like collaboration. You see, there's this good old DO network... we know and enjoy each other. Birds of a feather, you know. A terrific subculture. We include the interested but exclude the fools.

We each craft based on desire, knowledge, activity and kindness. The most common result of these is harmony, happiness and satisfaction. Together, our collective efforts result in a variety of masterpieces for better lives and bigger smiles, the side effects of which are many innovations in engineering.
Some crafts are a little esoteric but the resulting masterpieces are better vehicles, better communication, more entertainment, medical advances and increased security... for better living.

Without our masterpieces, this world would be dark, indeed.


- © 2009 by Willy

Words

"Do you want me to come visit you?" said my wife on the phone as I lay in a hospital bed after a wreck, in May 1982. It was a terrible thing to say at a horrible time. I had no response. She didn't visit, and we divorced soon after that.

"You were terrific!" said the note from friend Donna. It was January 1987 and I had just sat down from giving a talk. It was a nice thing to do. I still have that note tacked up, and I still smile.

We have to be VERY careful with what we say. Words are powerful. They can be used to curse or bless, to be angel or demon... or anything in between. We've all experienced a broken heart, probably more than once, and suspect that in some suicides... words can kill.

Everything we say and do matters, and it is our decision... an awesome responsibility and a powerful choice... to effect good or bad. To better the world, or not.

On the other hand, everything is also a test, disguised to give you the freedom of choice. We'll eventually be held accountable, here... and there too.

-© 2009 by Willy

Blessings

"May you live in interesting times."

This ancient Confucian curse is sometimes misunderstood as a blessing by the inexperienced young. Us old farts know better. Having had a life full of "interesting" times, we seek the simplicity of yore. If we're blessed, we eventually attain this state of being, and are truly thankful of such.

It helps to think positive, but blessings are in the eye of the beholder, as one man's trash is another's blessing. "After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing after all as wanting" (Star Trek's Spock). Not only is everything relative to each other but also to time.

For a youngster, we should wish that lack and struggle only serve to make them stronger.

A blessing to middle-aged people is a wish that every doubt and fear be replaced by a deep abiding trust as they observe evidence of a higher being all around them.

A blessing to solitary old geezers is to tell them to be aware that they are loved beyond measure. But I'll take any kind of attention whatsoever, having no shame.


- © 2009 by Willy