Absolutely 'AMY'zing!

Did you happen to catch the final round of the Masters Tournament last Sunday? If not, you really missed something special. Similar to the Superbowl, where lots of 'non~footballers' around the world tune in on that Super Sunday, I'd have to imagine that there are plenty of 'non~golfers' that tune in to watch The Masters each year as well.

Largely considered the 'Holy Grail' of golf, Augusta National Golf Club is known worldwide as one of, if not THE most beautiful golf course in the world. Every square inch of its glorious greeness manicured to perfection. It's as if they individually trim every single blade of grass to its appropriate height and then comb them all to ensure they are facing the correct direction.


Mere words can't begin to do justice to the magnificence that is the Augusta National. Both Bobby Jones and Clive Roberts created a masterpiece that all other Golf Clubs can only hope to aspire to. The drive down Magnolia Lane, en route to the nearly 100 year old Clubhouse [resembling a Southern Mansion] brings goose bumps to even the biggest names in golf.


Steeped in history, the list of names that have traveled this road and won this Tournament are no doubt the 'Who's Who' of golf. Jones, Sarazen, Snead, Demaret, Hogan, Player, Palmer, Nicklaus, the list goes on. To win here is to place yourself among golfs finest. Truly an honor.


If you play golf, no doubt you've fantasized about making that drive, exploring the Clubhouse, visiting Butler Cabin [where each year the Green Jacket is presented to the winner] and if all goes well, a quick trip up to the 'Crows Nest' where Bobby Jones himself contemplated his golf swing.



Only St. Andrews in Scotland, known as "The Home Of Golf", having held 'The Open' since the early 1800's can be considered in the same 'class' but as far as 'this side of the pond' goes, none can hold a candle to the Augusta National Golf Club.


Unfortunately, this year CBS tried their best to mess things up but luckily for us viewers, they were unable to succeed. Doing all they could to transform the Masters Tournament into the "Tiger Show", touting his 'comeback' to competitive golf as the most important thing to happen in the golf world since Jack Nicklaus first picked up a shortened down golf club made for him by his father, Tiger more or less became a non factor about the time he reached Amen Corner.



While I'll admit Tiger did play well considering this was his first time playing after his five month 'layoff', they continually attempted to give the impression that he was the only golfer with a chance to win and it would be up to him to make the mistake that would cost him the Green Jacket. Definitely not fair to the forty some other World Class golfers on the course, all playing their hearts out for a Green Jacket.

The roller coaster ride that is Sunday at The Masters was never a disappointment. Didn't matter who you were rooting for, birdies, bogeys, even a few eagles were seen flyin' around those hallowed grounds. At times the roars were deafening, becoming a distraction to quite a few of the players as the course is designed with the tee boxes rather close to the greens. Many a player was forced to back away from their ball, choosing to wait for the galleries reactions to other golfers shots before proceeding ahead to their own.

Luckily for me, my 'faves' continued to produce one thrill packed shot after another. I had narrowed my choice of winners down to two, either of which deserved to win it after their remarkable displays of shot making skill throughout the week.

Since I first discovered this wonderfully cruel game known as golf way back in the mid 1980's, Fred Couples has been a fixture at the top of countless Leaderboards. With his 'sweet as molasses' swing, a tempo that could put a baby to sleep and a demeanor for all to envy, "Boom Booms" fan base is truly global.


To this day I can still remember the first time I asked him for an autograph. It was sometime during the late 1980's, on one of my first visits to La Costa Country Club for the Tournament of Champions that I had my first 'up close and personal' interaction with one of my Idols.

Freddie was making his way to the practice putting green and summoning up all my courage, I interrupted him long enough to ask him to autograph my visor. All the while smiling, he made it seem as if he had nothing better to do, like I wasn't bothering him at all. A very pleasant experience to say the least.

Contrast that with an interaction I had with Greg Norman around this same time. While walking from the practice tee to the putting green, I asked "The Shark" for an autograph to which he politely declined. His response to me was that since it was drizzling a bit, he wouldn't sign autographs. I even offered to hold his umbrella for him while he signed my visor [that's how star struck I was] but again, he replied with a resounding NO!


Hard to believe that both of these episodes, along with quite a few others [like the day Arnold Palmer smiled at me, making me feel like I was the only fan in the Gallery] have continued to stick in my mind over the last twenty or so years but that's how much I idolized these guys back then. In my mind they had succeeded in conquering a game that I honestly felt could never be conquered and I held great respect and admiration towards them. I still do to this day.


And while I still have great respect for Greg, I must admit that my interaction with Freddie that day truly taught me much more about Fred, the person than it did about Fred, the golfer. Freddie is the epitomy of a true gentleman and someone I could only hope to emulate.

So, to see him in contention all week, especially since he's been battling career ending back problems over the last few years was most definitely a wonderful experience.

And of course there's Phil, Tigers closest rival. Both of them have consistently been #1 and #2 in the World at any given time throughout the last decade or more. Battling each other since the Junior Golf days, they've been trying to top each other for quite some time.

Phil, having grown up in San Diego, has been a well known fixture in the local golf community since he was very young. From Junior Golf to the Pro Tour, his name has definitely become synonymous with golf in San Diego. From the little Par 3 Course at Presidio Hills to the long ocean swept fairways of Torrey Pines, everybody's heard of Phil.



Back in the mid 1980's, my friends and I would try to 'cure' our 'golf fever' by getting in a few holes here and there, whenever possible. Rarely having lots of spare time, let alone any spare cash, I'm not ashamed to admit that we had found a few 'secret spots' scattered around town. Hidden 'jewels' that, given the right time of the day [usually weekdays after work], would afford us an opportunity to 'sneak on' and play a few holes.

Always looking for the perfect 'gap' in the groups while continually keeping our eyes peeled for the dreaded Marshalls Cart, 'blending in' was as much an art as it was a science.

One such day stands out as being just a bit more special than some of the others. Balboa Golf Course, a City owned municipal course right in the middle of town, is set up in such a way to where the front nine sends you out to the furthest edge of the property and then back towards the Clubhouse as you round the turn, right around the eighth or ninth hole.

As we made our way down the trail to hide out among the trees at the back of the Tee Box on No. 4, things were looking good as far as an opening was concerned. The groups were beginning to thin out because by this time in the afternoon, it was impossible to get in eighteen holes, let alone nine which meant that they'd be stranded way out on the far end of the course just about the time it got dark. This lead to a long, cold drive back to the Clubhouse in the dark, something not many were up for.

It was around this time that the Starter would let the High School Team tee off on #1 and walk as many holes as they could get in. Seemed as if they were allowed to practice pretty much every afternoon, Monday thru Friday. At least during the school year. There were about three or four foursomes of them so no problem letting them go by. Heck, they certainly had more right to be there than we did, that's for sure. HA!

Not that my buddies and I were any good but we always played the Blue Tees. We wanted to experience all the course had to offer, definitely wanted to get our 'moneys worth'. The High School Team also played from 'The Blues'. No surprise there, they wanted their moneys worth as well.

So as we sat on the bench, waiting for our 'opening' to materialize, the last of the High School groups walk up to the tee box and we give them the 'signal' to go ahead and play through. Not sure who was more nervous, them or us. They didn't want to look like 'hacks' when they tee'd off, figuring we MUST know how to play if we're on the blue tees and we didn't want to get busted for sneakin' on. Oh, the anxiety of it all!

Keeping in mind that these kids were about ten years younger than we were, we weren't too worried about them 'schoolin' us. As I mentioned, we could hit it OK back then so no worries. At least not until this tall, lanky kid walked up to the tee. My only thought was
c'mon, hurry up and hit it before another group comes up and we lose 'our turn'.
Then, it gets even weirder. This kid ended up standing on the 'wrong' side of the ball. Yep, a 'Lefty'. Up to this point I don't think any of us had actually seen a left handed set of golf clubs, let alone a real, live golfer that could actually use them. Like a 'goofy footed' surfer, the whole thing just seemed so wrong.

Yet, right in front of us stood this 'kid' and I'll be the first to admit that I kinda felt sorry for him. I mean, golf is hard enough from the 'right side' of the ball but it's gotta be nearly impossible to play from the 'wrong' side. How was he ever going to enjoy this brutal game swinging left handed, let alone be any good? Then he swung....and EVERYTHING changed!


No. 4 is a rather long [seemed like it at the time anyway], narrowish par four and to be honest, up to that point I'd never seen a tee shot hit that far on that hole. EVER! It started out low, rising slightly as it rocketed forward until it fell to the grass, landing soft as a feather. SWEET!

My buddies and I looked at each other, none of us saying a word. As they left the tee, we all mumbled under our breath in unison, "Holy Crap, did you see that?" Which of course we had. I mean, how could you miss it? You don't see shots like that everyday. Especially not at Balboa and for sure not from some high school kid standing on the wrong side of the ball. Yet, there it was. Well, actually it was so far out there we could hardly see it but we still knew it was out there somewhere.


Yep, you guessed it. That was the first time I'd ever seen Phil Mickelson hit a golf ball and it no doubt left some kind of an impression on me. So much so that it seems as if it was yesterday. None of us said another word until they were far enough in front of us so as not to hear us. Heck, we were pretty much speechless at that point. We proceeded to tee off, knowing full well that we had just been put in our place. 'Schooled' by a high schooler and I gotta admit, it didn't feel good. We obviously had alot to learn about the game of golf. With our tails tucked neatly between our legs, we forged ahead with a new respect for the Pros out there actually making a living playing this game.

I've seen Phil play at a few different tournaments since then, Torrey Pines, La Costa, even Riviera and he never ceases to impress. He's a true gentleman, both on and off the course.



So to see him take control of his game and control of The Masters Tournament last Sunday was truly a thing of beauty. Nobody handed the Green Jacket to him, he EARNED IT! He played the best he's played in quite some time and nobody deserved to win it more than he did.

Add to it everything that he and Amy, his Mother Mary, his entire family has had to endure over this past year and in my book there couldn't be a more deserving champion. Congratulatiions Phil, Absolutely 'AMY'zing!

Burger Rage ~ THE LAW OF STARVATION!

Honest, I did my best. I really tried my darndest to resist temptation. Although I know all the reasons, too many calories, too much grease, any way you choose to look at it, just not healthy for me. Yet, here I was, caught in it’s greasy grip, the mile long line up at the In ‘N’ Out Burger Drive Thru, anxiously awaiting placement of my order.




With the line being so long I still had time to do the ‘right thing’, to turn around and go back home. After all, this burger wasn’t something I had to have, only something I wanted and that alone wasn’t really a good enough reason to indulge. Or was it? Like an invisible magnetic force, pulling me closer and even though I did resist, I still found myself being pulled forward toward that little red framed window. It was at this point that I came to the realization that there was no turning back, no matter how hard I tried.



As I watched the line continue to grow behind me, I was amazed at how many people were obviously on the same wavelength. How can it be so crowded at 2:00 in the afternoon? Hasn’t everyone already eaten? I purposely waited until way after the basic ‘lunch hour’ to avoid all this commotion but apparently it didn’t do me much good. On the other hand, maybe it did. It’s quite possible this line was even worse a couple hours earlier.


Sitting there, sunroof open, soakin’ up the sunshine along with a few great tunes, it seemed we weren’t moving at all. Goin’ nowhere fast. That’s when I noticed a huge gap in front of the car directly in front of me. Why isn’t this idiot moving? Doesn’t he realize that there are about 100 cars behind me, filled with starving people chompin’ at the bit to get up to the speaker box? I can already feel about 400 eyes burnin’ holes in the back of my head, wonderin’ why I haven’t moved forward in quite some time. Don’t make me go all crazy and start honkin’ my horn!



Then it dawns on me. He’s not moving because there’s a girl taking his order on a faux Ipad and transmitting all his info electronically to the ‘insiders’ way before he ever get’s to the speaker box. Keep in mind we’re nowhere near the giant lifesize outdoor Menu yet, not even close and yet she expects us to know what we want. I guess it’s easy to assume that most everybody has a pretty good idea what they want already, especially considering the Menu only consists of about ten choices.



Sure, there’s a choice of with or without onions, even how you want them prepared and a few other intricacies that aren’t actually ’spelled out’ on the board but for the most part, everybody has their favorites and one would assume they get the same thing every time. I know I do, that’s for sure. While I might change up the drink choice once in a while, it’s very rare that I’ll mess with the rest of the order. Why mess with a good thing? For those that do choose to risk it all, there is the “Not So Secret Menu” which would allow for some ‘out of the box’ thinkin’ but I don’t really need to go there.



Finally, I get the ’signal’. The sign from Olga the Order Taker to please pull forward. “Wait! What’s going on here?” As I move forward to fill the gap in the lineup, she walks forward at the same time, seemingly mocking my forward progress. Is she making me chase her? Does she just want to feel wanted? Needed in some way? Typical woman. At this point she HAS to know she’s both wanted AND needed as she’s the direct connection, the ONLY connection to the powers that be. Without her, me and everybody else in this huge pile of people behind me are pretty much screwed. Up the proverbial creek without a paddle.


It’s then that I realize she’s just moving forward to allow everyone to fill the gap in the lineup and to give the impression that we are actually making some sort of progress. Inching ever closer to the promised land, the land of the free, the home of the brave. Well, the place where you pay for your food, which is just about the same thing.


All of a sudden, I heard a voice come over the outdoor loudspeaker. “Nine hundred sixty nine, number nine hundred sixty nine!” Hmmm, I guess that answers that. As I was waiting in line, I found myself wondering if it would have been faster to walk inside but as I scanned the faces of all the people that were standing in line and sitting at the outdoor tables, I got the impression that they were just as irritated at the overly long wait. In fact it almost looked like they were somehow blaming those of us in the Drive Thru for the outrageous amount of time they had to wait for their food. Good thing I didn’t walk in.




Finally, so close I could almost touch it but not quite. One more car and I’d be there. Well, not exactly. More like one half of a car. I would have to pull all the way forward, more than likely hitting the bumper of the guy in front of me in order to be able to climb out my window to hand my money to the girl with the headset on. This was due to the fact that a guy a couple cars in front of me had decided to tow a trailer through the Drive Thru [which I can relate to but that's another story that I'll save for later] thus causing the line to be a bit out of kilter.

“Ok, here we go. Here’s my money, now where’s my food?” “Your food? Oh, you pick that up at the next window.” Hmmm, the NEXT window? What next window? I can’t see another window. Are you sure there’s another window? There must be some kind of mistake!

“No mistake. Please pull forward!” Hmmm, where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, about an hour ago when I placed my order with the girl holding the Ipad. Here we go again. Up ahead I can see a curve in the road, perhaps the window of which she speaks is up around the bend. Now, when I say road, this ‘road’ is similar to the old Autopia Ride at Disneyland in that it has high curbs along the sides that seemingly ‘guide’ you to the promised land. If you somehow ‘jump’ these curbs, you’re either extremely drunk [again, saving that story for later] or you really didn’t want your burger bad enough after all.



After negotiating this final curve, through the haze and the ‘ripple effect’ coming off of the overheated cars in front of me, I can just make it out. Like an oasis in the desert, a lake surrounded by palm trees, it’s the little window with the red trim. The window that the girl with the headset spoke of oh so long ago.

But this window is different. Very different. Not quite sure why but I just know it is. Then it dawns on me. It ’smells’ different. Yep, this is THE ONE! The one I’ve waited all this time to get to, the one I ‘broke all the rules’ for. As she read my order back to me again, I wasn’t even listening to her. I just kept saying “YES, YES, YES! Whatever, just give me my food!” The food I ordered about two hours ago. The food I payed for about an hour ago. THAT food.

At this point I pretty much couldn’t care less how close the contents of the bag were to my actual order. In fact, I’m so dizzy and light headed that I can’t even remember WHAT I ordered!

“Says here you’ll be taking it home to eat it so we’ll bag it up. “YES, THROW IT IN A BAG SO I CAN GET THE HECK OUTTA HERE!!!” I’m so hungry at this point that the bag is a mere annoyance, I’ll most likely eat that as well while on my way to the burgers.


“Oh, also says here that you ordered a Chocolate Shake." “I did? Oh yeah, I did.” That was such a long time ago I more or less forgot. Good thing she remembered or I would have had to come back. Heck, I’m not even sure I could have handled that and more than likely I wouldn’t have bothered. I would have just cut my losses. To go through that line again wouldn’t have been worth it.


And we’re off! Got my bag of burgers ‘n’ fries, my Shake and I’m outta here. The way they designed everything here, in order to get back out to the street, you have to wind your way back through the parking lot, skirting the lineup of folks in the Drive Thru lineup. Hmmmm, what a small world.


Just think, only a few short hours ago I too was in this lineup, anxiously awaiting my dream meal. If they only knew. Only had a clue as to the journey that waits ahead for them. I wonder if they’d stay in line if they knew how long it was gonna be before they actually got their food?


As I continued to weave my way between the mish mash of cars, all of which seemed to be in a big hurry to go nowhere, I noticed the changes on the faces of the occupants. The further I got away from the end of the burger rainbow, the more the faces were filled with anxiety and anger. Before I knew it, it started to look like a freeway onramp at 5:00 on a friday afternoon just before a three day Holiday weekend.



Tempers were flaring, blood was beginning to boil, horns began honking, people were cutting other people off, all signs of courtesy being thrown out the window only to be replaced by BURGER RAGE! It has to be seen to truly be understood but there it was, continuing to manifest itself right in front of me. No doubt about it, this was absolute Burger Rage and there was no way to stop it.



How could this have happened? How could a simple trip to the local burger joint turn into an anxiety filled stress test? Only one answer. It’s gotta be THE LAW OF STARVATION. Since the beginning of time, the hunt for food has brought out the most savage of tendencies in man and this was just another example of how some things never change.

Upon nearly making it to the exit of the parking lot, almost free, I decided to just find an open parking space, relax for a few minutes and eat my burger in peace. I was pretty much worn out from the whole experience and believe it or not, even hungrier than when I first arrived there oh so long ago.


Sitting there, thankful that I had gotten my food and my time in line was over, I enjoyed my burger and fries. Every last deep fried greasy bite of it. Topped off, of course, with that exquisite Chocolate Shake. To say it was delicious is an understatement.


Upon sucking that last bit of Chocolate scrumptuousness through the straw, a strange thing occured to me. All that frustration, anxiety and stress that I had just suffered through such a short time ago was nearly gone from my memory. All that Burger Rage had been erased, only to be replaced by the sweet memories of a great burger [with grilled onions], real potato fries and an incredible shake.




Some kind of magic? I think not. Will I be coming back again? You bet. It’s the law. THE LAW OF STARVATION.

I Just Wanna Cash In On My Passion

Is that so wrong? Too much to ask? It's the age old battle, I would assume pretty much since the beginning of time. How can I spend my days (or nights) doing what I love, following my passions as opposed to spending an entire lifetime following the rest of the sheep, herded along the freeways, taking the safe road to nowhere and not too happy about it.


After all, isn't working at what you enjoy more or less like not working at all? Wouldn't you much rather spend your days with a big smile on your face as opposed to a permanent frown? I know I would, that's for sure.

And when you do something you're passionate about, you end up with a much nicer end result. Such a wonderful feeling of accomplishment from a job well done. Can you just imagine the feeling of never wanting your day to end because you're having so much fun? Only to be surpassed by the relentless amount of sleepless nights, laying there, so amped up thinking about all the things you want to accomplish the next day. Heck, who needs an alarm clock when you never actually fall asleep anyway. Hard to imagine lack of sleep being a 'good thing' but I guess in this case it would be.

No doubt that's the life I wanna live. Knowing that tomorrow is going to be even better than today was. Wouldn't that be the greatest life ever? I'd have to think so.

OK then, now that we know HOW we want our life to be, how to we go about creating the life of our dreams? In essence, how do we cash in on our passion?

First off, we need to identify what it is we are actually passionate about. Basically it comes down to a matter of deciding what it is you'r look forward to waking up and doing every day, rain or shine, regardless of whether or not you were getting paid to do it.

I can name a few things right off the bat. I've always had a passion for Antiques & Collectibles. The thrill of the hunt, the rush of the 'discovery', the interaction with the current 'custodian' as it relates to purchasing the object, overcoming my overwhelming desire to own every rare antiquity on earth & finding a 'new' caretaker and lastly, the 'warm 'n' fuzzies' I get from knowing that my 'find' is on it's way to a new home, increasing the enjoyment of all others that get to view it. And then the process begins again. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose but it never seems to diminish the thrill of the hunt.

Another dream of mine, ever since I wrote my first short story back in Elementary School has been to be a Writer. Most likely fiction but as much as I enjoy writing from my heart, it's entirely possible that I would also dabble in the non fiction genre a bit. As I'm sure you can tell I've never actually taken any writing classes or persued it in any way so perhaps it's the fact that Stephen King and I share the same birthday (NO, not the same year!) that might have something to do with my passion for writing, I'm not exactly sure. One thing's for certain though, I really love Blogging and would truly enjoy taking it to another level.



I'd have to say that the third thing on my 'list' would be painting Murals. My goal would be to learn how to paint Trompe L' O'eil, "Trick Of The Eye" Murals for both indoor and outdoor applications. For those unfamiliar with this style of art, in essence it's creating the realistic feeling of something that although you know darn well it's not really there, it appears so realistic that you have to question yourself as to what you're actually looking at.

This can be as simple as a Faux plaster finish on an interior wall, maybe a 'window' with a view of the vineyard in the distance all the way up to a giant 'hole' in the outside wall of a building, thereby allowing a 'peek' inside at the huge bank vault within, containing all kinds of untold riches.



Of course, all of these scenarios are only limited by ones imagination. Unfortunately, this painting technique requires years of training and as such will have to remain a ways down on my list of 'wannados'. Right next to scowering the oceans of the world in search of sunken Spanish Gallions and Pirate Ships. I'm so enthralled by the thought of uncovering undiscovered treasures, one of a kind artifacts, things that mere money can't buy. I get tingles just thinking about it. I guess I have some sort of an Indiana Jones complex.


So with the last two 'passions' on my list being a bit out of reach (for now) it's still entirely possible that I could make a go of the other two. I'm enamored with history and to be able to travel the globe in search of the 'rarest of the rare', 'only one in existence' type items, with unlimited funding from a long list of interested buyers eagerly anticipating my next 'find' would truly be a dream come true. To peruse thousand year old buildings throughout Europe in search of who knows what and learning everything I can about the countries and their cultures would just be icing on the cake. And then to top it off, if I could write about my adventures along the way. My life truly would be a dream come true.



So with all that being said, now comes the difficult part. How do I go about creating this so called 'dream life'. How do I bridge the 'gap' between following my passions, in hopes of making money rather than merely trying to find something that will keep me afloat for now, another 'quick fix', regardless of whether or not I enjoy it. No doubt it's gonna take a huge leap of faith on my part to even remain focused long enough to give it a shot.

Especially in todays turbulent world, it can be very difficult to risk everything (or in my case what little I have left) to take a chance on living a life full of fun & pleasure. Not that there are any guarantees of making money these days by following a safer, risk free path yet it can still be much more dangerous to climb out on the ledge and take a leap of faith, hoping for a smooth landing.

If you're anything like me, I grew up thinking that work was a necessary evil we were all forced to endure in order to survive. Definitely not something to look forward to, that's for sure. Anything you wanted to do or enjoyed doing would have to be squeezed in 'after' work hours.

Getting over that 'guilt trip' is a challenge in itself. Let alone coming up with a way to monetize my passions. It's no wonder I never attempted this transition to fun and freedom prior to this, it appears to be a road filled with land mines, all of them just waiting to explode.

Should I even allow myself to dream of such a fantasy life, a life of traveling around the world in search of the unknown? An endless list of anxious buyers, eagerly awaiting my latest Blog Post direct from a beautiful white sand beach in Bora Bora, boasting of all my newly found treasures. A life where my biggest problem is where to have these treasures shipped and remembering which bank account in Monaco I want the money to be deposited in. I get the warm 'n' fuzzies just thinkin' about it.


I guess what it truly comes down to is the fact that it's entirely up to me to change my life. To create the life of my dreams. No one else is gonna do it for me, that's for sure. In fact I've come to realize that mentioning to others about how you plan on changing your life for the better only brings out feelings of animosity and then the negativity begins to flow. "How dare you try to enjoy your life when I'm stuck here at my 9 to 5 job, kids, mortgage, car payments, living paycheck to paycheck and no way out." At least from those that still have a 'regular' job, not exactly a gimme in todays economy.

I've always known I wasn't a 9 to 5er, yet I lived that life for many years. It was a miserable existance and one I'm not eager to go back to. I enjoy Real Estate (at least the way it USED to be) but until the RE Market comes back, not much guaranteed income there either. Hmmmm, what is it then that I'm really risking here? No wife, no kids, no mortgage, maybe there really is no better time than now to give this thing a shot. Why not? Why not cash in on my passion? The only thing stopping me....is me.

The Low Road To Soberville

I gotta admit, I expected more. Alot more. After four very long years without beers, I truly thought my life would have done a complete 180 degree U~Turn and I'd be on the Golden Road to happiness. Or at the very least, standing at the gate, waiting for somebody to unlock it so I could start heading down that beautiful road. But alas, no such luck. For all I know, the gate's still locked because I sure as hell can't see it from here.

Now keep in mind this hasn't been four years of 'total' sobriety as I was still doing a bit of 'self medicating' until Aug. 2nd of '06 but I haven't had any alcohol as of March 6th, '06 so it's been four years and no beers. Shouldn't that count for something? Isn't there some kind of a reward for good behavior? Apparently not. At least not one that I can see anyway.

Heck, I know I don't deserve a Gold, Silver or a Bronze but I'd be more than happy to settle for a tin foil or perhaps a plastic Medal. Anything to show that all of this has been worth it in some way or another. But no, nothing to hang around my neck but a noose. And to be honest, that really doesn't seem like much of a reward.

So as I sit here, climbing the walls, trying to remember why on earth I ever decided to get sober in the first place, I really have to concentrate hard on coming up with any way possible to prove to myself that this wasn't just a huge waste of time. I mean c'mon, think of all that partying I could have been doing. What a shame to have missed out on all that.

Not that all the years I spent drinking weren't a huge waste of time but as difficult as it's been for me to not give in to temptation these last few years, I truly do find myself searching for a reason why. Why did I quit? What have I gained?

I have a buddy that continues to drink (among other indulgences) and despite getting a DUI on New Years of '09, losing his Drivers License for a year, various DUI Classes, thirteen weekends of wearing an orange jumpsuit while picking up trash along the freeway and all the other assorted 'fun' that comes along with getting a DUI, I have to admit that at least from my viewpoint, his life doesn't seem that much worse than it was prior to being arrested. He must not think so either since he continues to drink and drive.

Now also keep in mind that he obviously doesn't care how he appears to others or whether or not he makes a complete fool of himself when he's drunk. I mean how could he. He knows very well how ridiculous alcoholics look when they're hammered and he also knows that he always makes a fool out of himself, he still continues to drink.

It's kinda funny how when you're drinking, you think that you have everyone 'fooled' into believing that you're sober but when you truly are sober, it's so obvious when someone else is drunk. Luckily for me I have no desire to look, let alone act like a fool and so I use his 'actions' as an example to remind me of what I don't want out of life and who I don't want to be. That might seem a bit selfish but he's well aware of my using his getting drunk as a brutal reminder of why I don't drink anymore.

In fact, perhaps he should drink a bit more these days because apparently his 'lessons' aren't helping to remind me of the 'evils' of drinking quite as often as I need them to. I'm sure he'd go for that if he could afford it.

Thinking back, I can still remember the main reason I quit drinking in the first place and unfortunately my 'luck' hasn't really changed much in that arena. It's becoming increasingly difficult to depend on that reason alone to keep me on the straight and narrow. I am grateful that I had that inspiration as my original motivation in the beginning. Without that, I wonder if I ever would have stopped.

The only other reminder I have is knowing that I was so miserable that the thought of facing another day without being drunk was absolutely not an option. I'll be the first to admit that I thought about suicide quite often and I'll bet many other alcoholics have pondered that very same thing at some point in their 'careers' but luckily for me, I didn't have the guts to go through with it.


Had I actually followed through with it, I would have missed out on meeting a few of the most incredible women ever. In fact, one very special woman stands out and even though she's no longer with us, she's my Angel up above and I continue to gather strength from her every day. Had I not met her, who knows where I'd be today and for that I will be forever grateful.

I was also lucky enough to 'meet' another amazing woman during these last four years and had I not cleaned up my act, chances are I never would have had the opportunity to do so. I've been impressed by her as far back as the early late '80s or early '90s and as I watched her on tv, even back then I fantasized about our 'dream life' together. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that we would in any way make contact in 'real life' and although I've never met her face to face, the online 'correspondence' that we have shared has had more of an impact on me than she'll ever know. For me it has forged a once in a lifetime bond that I cherish to this day. Yes, I know, chances are she has no idea what my name is or that I even exist but hey, it's my fantasy dammit and if I choose to believe that she has the slightest clue who I am then leave it be, ok? Let me live out my dream.

Not all of my 'opposite sex' interactions have gone perfectly over these last four years but I would have to believe that's kinda par for the course. Regardless of whether or not someone is sober or drunk, not all relationships are gonna work out. That's just life.

But with that being said, I truly have met some incredible women, a few absolute Angels and I consider myself very lucky to have met them. And had I 'packed it in' early, I never would have experienced any of those 'highs'. So there's something to be happy about after all. I guess that IS an improvment.

Apparently what it all boils down to is that rather than try to figure out what good has come from stopping my alcohol intake, perhaps I need to focus more on the unseen trials and tribulations that I unknowingly avoided.

Of course, I can only guess at all of the things that could have gone wrong in my life had I continued on my path to self destruction. Which is more than likely better than having to experience them first hand. So again, maybe that's all the positivity I can take away from this experience.

Is that enough to go on, reason enough to continue forward on this lonely, long ass dirt road to Soberville? I certainly hope so because at this point, it's about all I have to go on and I would hate to add another failure to my 'life resume'. Might cause me to start drinkin' again.

And so whether I want to or not, I'm forced to stay on this path, continuing to wonder whether or not it's the correct thing to do. Worse comes to worst, I can always go back to drinking. There's a Liquor Store on just about every corner and all it takes is a little bit of money.










Heck, if sobriety was that easy, everybody would do it and so I just have to try and look at each day as an adventure, rather than a nightmare. Instead of taking the high road, I guess I'm gonna have to stick with the low road. The low road to Soberville.

My Dearest Annabelle....

How do I even begin to put in to words just how much meeting you has meant to me? It seems that mere words aren't enough to say what's on my mind and in my heart. To tell you how I truly feel. Yet, in some way I need to tell the world about one of the most wonderful people I could have ever hoped to have met. While I made an attempt in an earlier post, You Were Right On Time!, I feel the need to let everyone know just how incredible you truly are.


I have struggled with this post for about a month now. It was approximately this time last month that I found out that one of the sweetest people I have ever known had passed away. That I had lost someone so dear to my heart, that I would never again get to talk with you, to hear your beautiful voice. Needless to say I was devastated by the news and have been ever since.

And as you can tell, I'm having extreme difficulty refering to anything in the past tense. I keep hoping that the next time I open my eyes, this will all be just a bad dream, a nightmare of sorts and that all of a sudden my phone will ring and it will be you on the other end, calling to tell me that everything is ok. Oh, how I need to hear your voice right now.


Every time I sit down at my desk and attempt to express my emotions, my inner feelings, the flood of tears begins to flow uncontrollably and the river of sorrow clouds my eyes to the point of not being able to see the keyboard and with my lack of typing skills, I need to look at the keys quite often. This has been one of the most difficult posts I've ever written.


Yet I know I can't give up, I need to persevere. In fact, after spending the last few hours typing this post the first time [yes, I said the "first" time] my computer "locked up" and I completely lost everything I had originally written. Even though the draft had apparently been saved, obviously that wasn't the case. And so here we go, again. I refuse to give up.


Speaking of refusing to give up, that's one of many things that I learned from you. All the times I complained about losing a girlfriend, a car, even my Condo and wanted to have a "pity party", to just "pack it in", to just get drunk and more or less just bail on life, you had a very subtle way of letting me know that quitting wasn't even an option. That every problem that I looked at as being so insurmountable was merely just another bump on the road of life.

Not that you ever had a pity party of your own or tried to throw your problems in the mix but you showed me how to overcome obstacles that would take anyone down, merely by changing my perspective. How everything in life could be conquered with an attitude adjustment, which begins with being grateful.

Being grateful. Sounds like such a simple idea, just an old cliche'. Yet it isn't always that easy. With all of the struggles of daily life it's hard to remain focused on all we have to be grateful for. It's much easier to look at what we don't have and continue to say how much better our lives would be if we had "this" or "that". We seem to take for granted everything we already have, continually wanting more but you have shown me just how precious another sunrise can be, another sunset.

That's just one of the many things I've learned from you. I only wish I could give back to you one ounce of what you've given me. As I look back through all of our emails [yes, I cherish them and saved them all] I still find it odd when you mention my willpower and courage. As far as I'm concerned, anything that I have accomplished is nothing in comparison to all you have conquered. You showed me what real courage, in the face of major adversity, truly is and for that I will be forever grateful.

Speaking of never giving up, I never wanted to be thought of as a quitter. Like they say, "Don't ever give up. You never know who or what could be just around the corner." But until I met you, I never actually knew how true this was. Before I met you, there were many times I wanted to just give in and say forget it, yet had I done that I never would have met you and what a tremendous loss that would have been for me and my life. Again, another reason to be grateful.

I find myself feeling so confused, even angry at the thought of you being gone. How could such a beautiful person be taken away at such a young age? And why did you have to struggle throughout your life? You always told me that G*d didn't give us any more than we could handle but why would he make you fight so hard? You deserved a life without pain and heartache and how I would have given anything for you to have that. You know me, I'm "Mr. Fix It" and if there's a problem, I need to fix it, right away if not sooner and this was a situation I couldn't fix. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't make it any better for you and this will always leave me wondering why. Why couldn't I have done more?

Annabelle, I can never begin to thank you enough for everything you have done for me. I truly consider meeting you to be one of the greatest things that's ever happened in my life. Your words of wisdom and encouragement will always be with me as you will forever be in my heart and soul. Your courage, strength, intelligence, kindness, the warmth of your heart, they will always be on my mind. Oh, I miss you so much. My heart is truly broken.

Annabelle, I Love You, I will never forget you and thank you from the bottom of my heart for being my friend.

XMAS SUCKS! There.... I Said It!

Yep, that's what I said. Christmas really does suck. Not sure if I'm the only one that feels this way or just the only one with enough guts to say it out loud. And I really can't say when it all changed but it's just about the most miserable time of the year for me. Matter of fact, this time of the year has sucked for so long that I can barely remember far enough back to when it didn't suck.

Strange though, how some of the greatest memories I have are memories of Xmas' past, yet now I literally dread this time of the year. I can still recall relentlessly shaking every box under the tree, doing my best to figure out just exactly what Santa brought me.




Always hoping for a rattle, clunk or a knock of some sort. At the very least a bit of "weight", insuring a cool toy. But I can still remember the pain and disappointment of the "quiet" boxes which signalled the impending let down of socks or a sweater. And needless to say I always checked the boxes that were addressed to my sister. Surely I couldn't have her getting more "rattlers" than I was, right? Right!





When did it all change? When did it take such a horrible turn for the worse? I don't think it was upon discovering the fact that my parents had been lying to me this entire time. That Santa really didn't exist and that he was just some made up fantasy. Some commercially driven "Guru" conjured up to guilt people into buying more "stuff". No, that couldn't have been it. I was too young to understand any of that and besides, I didn't see any kind of a drop in my "under the tree box count" once Santa was out of the picture. There had to be more to it.








Perhaps it was when I had to start buying presents for other people, OUT OF MY OWN MONEY! What the heck was that all about? I mean c'mon, wasn't Christmas all about receiving? As I would come to learn, it wasn't after all and so I must admit coming to that realization did tarnish things a bit. As I write this, I'm kinda getting the drift that I might have been a bit spoiled back then. Jeez, who'd a thunk it?






It seems as if everyone is having the best time ever, enjoying friends and family and truly getting in to the Holiday spirit. But here I am watching the clock tick by at a snails pace, second after miserable second, just trying to survive until the ball drops somewhere on earth and I can start my New Year.

Originally I had planned on just ending 2009 a month early, getting a jump start on 2010 and bypassing this "season" altogether but I was hit with some devastating news around the end of November which left me in a total funk for the last few weeks. So I have no other option than to suffer through 'till the New Year.

To make things even worse, I can remember saying pretty much these same words last year at this time and promising myself that 2009 was gonna be different. It was going to be the year that everything changed for me, I got my life back on track and things started to go good for a change. Nope, never happened.

Do I dare give it another shot? Another attempt to make 2010 a great year? I'm not stupid enough to say that '10 couldn't be worse than '09 because as we all know, things can always be worse and just as soon as you utter those words, they will become reality. Therefore, I won't waste my time on the negative energy.

And yes, I know all about being grateful for what we have, not complaining about what we don't have. It's just that after another twelve months have flown by and I'm in even worse shape than I was at this time last year, the positive side of things is just a bit harder to find. Seems much further away, somewhere off in the distance. Matter of fact, kinda hard to see it at all now that most of the "shine" has been tarnished. Not even sure a 55 gallon drum of TARN-X could save them now. All those hopes, dreams and goals washed away.








Speaking of goals, what happened to all those goals that I had? All those dreams I had planned on coming true. I'll be the first to admit that I hate playing the blame game but in this case I pretty much have to. Sure, it would be nice to say that "this" happened or "that" went wrong because of so and so but when it comes right down to it, there's really nobody to blame but me. Yikes, that's not exactly a great realization to come to. But the truth hurts and all the blame surely falls on me.

When it comes right down to it, nobody is going to change my life but me. Sure, things are gonna happen that force me to change my plans every so often and I'll need to adjust my goals accordingly but that's still no excuse for an entire year passing me by with nothing to show for it.

Were my goals too lofty, did I set the bar too high? I'd have to think not. I think it's more along the lines of not taking enough action, not staying laser focused on what I wanted to accomplish, refusing to let anything stop me until I achieved them. Here again, the blame surely lies with me.

So here we are, with the end of 2009 drawing near. Do I dare make another list of goals and dreams? How can I not? I mean, isn't that what this time of the year is all about? Trying to make your life better and not repeating the same mistakes you made the year before. And so with that I guess my first goal for 2010 is to make sure next Christmas doesn't suck. I don't want to have to look back at this post, change a couple numbers and copy and paste it to my blog. Nope, 2010 is going to be better. I just know it.