Thursday, November 06, 2008

Smile like you mean it

I cried, I can admit that. I got teary in the moment, knowing that the ceiling had been broken. That we as a people had ascended above color and race, finally. It wasn't uncontrollable crying like Jesse Jackson, it was a few tears of joy and relief and knowing that this campaign and it's daily struggle was finally over and resulted in the best possible outcome for our country.

Today however, I am extremely saddened and disappointed. I'm friends with many different thinkers, a wide array of opinions and experiences, various lifestyles and geographies. I'm a tolerant guy who can usually agree to disagree if I can't be persuaded, which I'll admit, rarely happens, but it's not out of the realm of possibilities. Many of my friends are also friends with each other. The last few weeks have been tense between the various thought processes; left, right and in between, and passion has not been in short supply. I've had phone calls and emails and IM conversations that felt like food poisoning leaving me with a stomach ache and a broken heart. If there's anything I want to be remembered for in that last moment, is that I was a true friend; who loved and supported through the good, the bad and indifferent. And despite our differing opinions, ideals and political ideology, at the end of the day I was your friend and you were mine. I'm watching some of these crumble before my eyes. In the day and age of instant commentary despite distance and geography, having a say within 2 seconds of the last comment is allowing that same passion to be misdirected and putting friend against friend. It's ugly and it's sad.

I've been a strong INFORMED Democrat and began working on campaigns during the first Clinton run, long before I could vote. I did my research, found my way, on my own. Like all of my friends, I had the opportunity to choose for myself, for my family, and for my country. I'm overjoyed that my opinions and my voice was shared by the majority of this country this time. I've spent the last 2 presidential terms feeling much like my friends who don't share my opinion do now; upset and worried. To them I say this, I don't know what the future will hold. I know the direction and I pray, much like you do, that the direction and the destination deliver this country to a better place than it was on Monday, for you and me, and our children. There is no glory or honor in tearing one another down over this election, over someone's opinions.

Take care of each other

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Falls Here, Cozy time



I don't know exactly when it happened, but it seems like overnight the leaves changed colors and started falling to the ground. Nearly every morning, I pass a grandmother and her 2 year old granddaughter heading up Seneca as I make my way down to my office. She has to be one of the happiest babies, always smiling as she walks uphill in the city holding tight to grandma's hand. This morning her smile was bigger than ever as her free hand proudly displayed a giant yellow maple leaf for all passers by to see. She waved it at me and laughed, which of course made me smile. Not a bad way to start the day. Happy Thursday

Monday, October 20, 2008

I've been on the brink of tears for about 24 hours now, and I'm not sure where it's coming from. It's an overwhelming feeling, like damned water on the verge of overflowing it's levee. As much as it may seem that I enjoy the interior torment, i promise that I do not. Yes, it occasionally fuels these rants, er, writings I pen, but trying to decipher the "why" when there isn't anything weighing heavy makes me a little nutty.

We went to church yesterday, it was the first time Jamie and I had ever gone to church together and Jackson's first time ever being in a church. I'm debating if my attendance has been the tear driver, an overwhelming guilt of not attending a Sunday service in over 10 years? If my grandmother was still here she would tell me it's God's presence returning to my heart, although I didn't know I'd ever asked him to leave. In fact, I'm pretty solidly sold on the fact that his presence in my heart, and head, is what has kept me alive all of these years. I've done some pretty dumb shit, outright stupid at times, and through it all I have still been blessed with a pretty awesome life. Who can say they been in the bottom of the 9th, staring at the end of the season, down 3 runs and knocking the ball out of the park to live another day? The self generated hand grenade factory went out of business awhile back and I do believe that it was the grace of God (along with a good therapist and the love of a very patient woman) that has led me to this place of awesomeness. Again though, where is this welling of emotion coming from?

I had another thought this morning how unfair goodbye's are, especially if you never got one. Pat's been gone now for a few years and yet everyday still feels like it just happened. I wonder if I'm the only one still dealing with his death, seems like it. Maybe I should be over it but not a day goes by that I don't look for his advice and his laughter. How is it that people like that just go? Wish I could be an arrow shot into the nights sky and pierce that fallen star that is my friend and stop that decisive moment. That moment past, but it catches up with me everyday and I can't help but acknowledge it.

The Seahawks lost again last night, 1 and 7! Holmgren's last season here and this is how they send him off? That really does make me sad but not enough to cry, I'm over it and just keep hoping they get healthy and salvage some sense of pride through the rest of the season.

So there I am, still not sure this rainy Monday morning why I feel like crying. Part of me thinks it's a combination of the above, and pieces of my previous post, that are all combining for a recipe of waterworks. Now, if I can just maintain until after work.

Have a great day kids

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Welcome Back


So I've been thinking about writing again for a while now. I guess it's odd to have to think about doing it and actually needing to plan to do it. That is my reality though right now; if it's not planned for, I'm not doing it. Not that I may not want to do it or that or the other, just that I don't have any time to do it. Thus begins this new ongoing dialogue I'll be having here, assuming I can set aside the time to consistently do it.


I quit my job 6 weeks ago, shocking I know. 10 years of history became nothing more than a giant highlight on my resume, and a revelation that I hadn't given much credence to prior to leaving. I spent nearly 1/3 of my life at the same company, something I thought I would never do. I can honestly say though, there are a lot of things that have happened that I said "never" to. The list is long and unless I run out of other clever things to write about, I'll spare you from reading them now. I'm sure they aren't too far off from your own list of "nevers", what other explanation would there be for why we're friends?



So, there's no more AT&T for me, at least not in the near future (Again, trying not to say "never"), and I'm managing a new product for a small startup company in Seattle. It's been quite the culture shift for me, none of the impersonal stark realities of the corporate giant, but an eclectic mix of tech geeks, homeless sheik and magniloquent metros trying to be individuals in a sea of individuality. Maybe I'm not being fair describing the people within this company of less than 300 employees, but I'm a firm believer that perception is reality. My perception is a little skewed though; I spent the first 6 or 7 years swimming against the corporate current, and the last few just "being". Being disenchanted and disengaged, being overwhelmed at one moment and under whelmed the next. Simply put, I was discontent with just being a part of that corporate antiseptic that was slowly turning me into an old man. Wouldn't you?



The trip into the city every morning makes me feel like a champion for the environment and a grown up all at the same time. I park the F150 every morning and saddle up to a commuter train, followed by a quick walk to a hydrogen powered bus ride, directly into the heart of the financial district. 4 downhill blocks, an elevator ride and the swipe of a badge lands me in this place I now call my office. I love the last 4 blocks of my walk in each morning. Even if it's raining, I am afforded the opportunity to overlook the Puget Sound as I make my way down Seneca and under the viaduct. It's beautiful and a great reminder of why I fell in love with this part of the country and why I'll probably never really leave it. That beauty, and a nice pretty paycheck, however, comes at a pretty steep price for me, (You can start your "Whaaa" Cry now). I leave the house with my son at 6:00 am and drop him off at daycare. Not a huge ordeal, but getting home after 6:00 pm most nights means I might get an hour to spend with him before bed. 5 hours from Monday to Friday blows, especially at this period in his life. It's amazing how different the priorities have become for me, I feel like a grown up and it's weird.