SET UP FOR THE LET DOWN

<sub>[2]<- What's This

Watching to: Dragenet Intro</sub>

T H E L E T D O W N
"
Isn't disappointment nothing more than the unknown variable that was not even considered. Why not expect the unexpected and get it over with? People do it all the time, right? Why else would people spend valuable money and time on things like Life Insurance, Living Wills, Retirement Funds, IRAs, Playing the Lottery, CD's and so on and so forth. Why else would we even plan for something to go wrong if were not expecting something to go wrong?
"

What do you do when everything is going all right. The world is at total peace. Birds sing your introduction into the day and the wind whistles your theme song. Its just a beautiful, wonderful, delightful, exciting, vivid, colorful, cheerful, great, remarkable CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!OWEHJF{ IWH#Q*RYU #Q_(*RY #Q_( Q(P

What do you do when the unexpected guest known as disappointment visits?

My fiancé and I go into this conversation a lot. She is very easily disappointed. She likes for things to go the way they are planned with no alterations of any kind (not even small one's). She likes for things to be perfect or else she goes 100% Incredible Hulk [You Tube Incredible Hulk] and just loses it. Me, I'm more laid back, relaxed and calm about that sort of thing. I'm used to let downs. They don't phase me and actually I plan them into my day. Why not? Isn't disappointment nothing more than the unknown variable that was not even considered. Why not expect the unexpected and get it over with? People do it all the time, right? Why else would people spend valuable money and time on things like Life Insurance, Living Wills, Retirement Funds, IRAs, Playing the Lottery, CD's [BoA Money Management] and so on and so forth. Why else would we even plan for something to go wrong if were not expecting something to go wrong?

Sometime I think I was just born without the "OH MY GOD WHAT AM I GONNA DO!" [OMG mp3] gene. Seriously, if I look back at the OMG moments in my life they never really phase me that much. Come on let's take a trip down memory lane. (It's ok I have Geico [Gieco.com]).

In 1992 I lived in Homestead Florida. Life was good and things were great (to a 12 year old anyway). My brother and I felt like the most privileged kids in the world. We didn't have all of the material things any kid could want but we had each other and a caring mother and a devoted step father to top it all off with. Life was great.

Now! For $200 dollars who remembers what significant event altered the peaceful suburb of Homestead Florida in June of 1992 ranking the town #4 on the list of most expensive damage to a residential area?

A. Flood
B. Tornado
C. Hurricane
D. Fire

Time's up. It was C, Hurricane.

[wikipedia Hurricane Andrew]
Nothing like a hurricane to shake things up a bit. Now as you would expect most of the adults and even the other children were running around, scrambling to pick up and secure their precious memories in safe and secure places so that the "Mean ol' Hurricane" couldn't get to them and rip them to shreds and smash them to bits. Me, I was intrigued by how low the birds flew and how animals could sense the coming of danger before even the news reports. I was a stone standing in the rapids of a raging river, anchored by serenity and secured by ignorance and faith. I wasn't stupid. I was aware of the damage that a hurricane, with its might wind speed and invisible sharp claws, could do. I knew that a hurricane was as serious as life and death but the way I was even before 12 (the way my though process worked) always questioned, "What's life and death without the former?"

T H E L E T D O W N
"
When it was all over depressed slumps of middle class citizens flocked to the street to collect the remains of their once manicured lives. Boats, Corvettes, Jet Skis and other expensive possessions were dissorientedly laying about like the room of a three year old after playtime. Andrew had thrown a temper tantrum alright, a 26 million dollar one.
"

Later on that evening, after most of the scrambling had settled, my family, including my moms friends and their niece and nephew, all huddled together within a small boarded up house awaiting the arrival of the monster named Andrew. We weren't at our 2 story Town House (Sea Grapes Village) but at my mother's friend house because it was only one story and it was further away from the city (Miami) where they thought it was gonna hit to begin with. We all sat curled into tiny little balls of shivering human flesh (all except for me that is). I was sleepy. I was up all day watching birds fly and dogs run with their tails tucked between their legs towards high ground. I had spent all of my energies on the fascinations of nature and I was ready to turn in hurricane or not.

My mom told me to go into one of the bed rooms and lay on the bed (which was nothing more than an old un-sheeted mattress but it was gonna have to do. I layed my head on the soft (spring filled) mattress for what seemed to be only a single second when my mother bursts into the room screaming,

"JERMAINE GET UP! THE ROOM IS FLOODING!"

I wobbled to my feet and sleepily shuffle (half way being dragged by my arm) towards the crowded hallway of human shivering when I slowly begin to realize that Andrew had arrived. He was finally here. The monster. The Maniac. The fire breathing beast sent from the east. The news spoke of him as though he were some ferocious monster with shards of glass for teeth and semi trucks for fists. The news talked about him like he could reach into each home and consciously feel around, with his wind made fingers, for the most ripe, delectable human treats that any monster would enjoy.

I stared him directly in the eye (literally). He was nothing. He was just wind. He had no claws, teeth, fangs, scales and he barely even howled. He was a big softy on the inside, Nothing more than nature's temper tantrum.

When it was all over depressed slumps of middle class citizens flocked to the street to collect the remains of their once manicured lives. Boats, Corvettes, Jet Skis and other expensive possessions were dissorientedly laying about like the room of a three year old after playtime. Andrew had thrown a temper tantrum alright, a 26 million dollar one.

Most people would have let something like that derail the rest of their life. Most people would have looked at surviving a hurricane as a traumatic life experience that forever alters the course of their actions. Most people would allow a simple natural event to alter their perception on reality and afterwards develop some complex to cope with the fact that (excuse the expression) Shit Happens.

We all know that things can go wrong. We had a great life down in Florida. I was attending one of the best Elementary schools in the city and I was on my way to middle school. Life was good. After the hurricane we (my brother and I) had to move up to North Dakota to live with my aunt on an air force base which is another story for another time.

Crap! I've run out of time. Here's what I'm gonna do. I would like to complete this post and get to the point (trust me I'm close) but in order to do so I have to bend my own rules just a bit. So tomorrow won't be as random but I'll try my best not to mentally plot out its course either during the day.

Leave me comments and let me know how you think I'm doing so far with the five o five. Give me suggestions how I can improve and if you think it all totally sucks then let me know that too. Whatever.

I appreciate the feedback, the support, and the interest. Until tomorrow.

Are you disappointed?

The five o five : Tuesday, November 13, 2007

May The Force Be With You

_{[2]<- What's this?}

I'm slippin' ya'll. I sincerely apologize for my absence. A lot has been going on lately and its none of that cry baby, "Wha, wha, wha, life is too hard," crap, but its just me out here taking care of some business. Of course I'm still going through some crazy adventures but that kind of stuff gives me the inspiration I need to keep going. Life is my muse (as crazy as she is)and as long as I'm alive, life will provide my best material (did I tell you I was a poet [tigga76 blog]). So today let's talk about creativity.

[[Side Note]]
Now, I'm going to be totally honest with you and let you know that I did attempt to blog yesterday and I even got as far as a draft of the post done, but in the end it was my first misfire. My brain just shut down and went blank and I was more concerned with the cosmetics of the previous posts that by the time I attempted to complete yesterday's issue it was already an hour too late. I'm a man of my word. I thought about finishing it sometime during the day but then I didn't want to break my own rules (If I finish anything beyond 6am then it can no longer be called the five o five [explaining the five o five]) so it was a total creative abortion and for that I'm sorry. I will post the remnants of it soon but just not here. I'll maybe post it on DA [tigga76 on deviantArt] or something. Just be sure to check the News and Updates post [news and updates] for the time and place. Now we return to our regularly scheduled blog post already in progress.

C R E A T I V I T Y
"
Creativity. She is an elusive mystery. She wades within our day to day activity hiding beneath our stacks of paper and our piles of bills. She plays peekaboo behind our cup of coffee and snorkels beneath our bath water. She pokes her head out from between the words in our favorite book and taunts and teases us at every given opportunity she can. She is the child that never grows up. The part of us that reminds us of who we used to be. She is the daughter of inspiration and the sister of depression. Creativity is the soul of evolution.
"

Creativity. She is an elusive mystery. She wades within our day to day activity hiding beneath our stacks of paper and our piles of bills. She plays peekaboo behind our cup of coffee and snorkels beneath our bath water. She pokes her head out from between the words in our favorite book and taunts and teases us at every given opportunity she can. She is the child that never grows up. The part of us that reminds us of who we used to be. She is the daughter of inspiration and the sister of depression. Creativity is the soul of evolution.

When I talk to people about god and stuff I always tell them (based on my observations) that human beings, so far, are the only creatures on the planet that possess, or utilize, the force known as creativity. As much as we would like to give animals the credit for emulating human behavior I honestly doubt that even a monkey could blog every morning at 5am. So we humans, the sole possessors of this creative force, have some responsibility on our hands. Creativity can not be stolen from us. No matter what has happened to any group of people on the planet, by any other group or natural event, creativity still carved its shiny emblem into the ruins of our lost civilizations.

Look at Egypt for an example [wikipedia Egyptian Mythology]. Every inch of their society was washed over in a shiny burst of human creativity and wonderment. The Egyptian people told stories about everything from where the sun [wikipedia Amun-RA] came from to where you go when you die [wikipedia Egyptian Afterlife]. To top all of that off they believed it. "Why not, I say" Perception is reality. Everything from their embalmed pharaohs all the way down to their mummified cats, Egyptians knew that they were going somewhere in the afterlife because a creative vessel such as the human form can not just die. They even were speculated to have built giant ships that would carry them across the rivers of the underworld. Crazy huh? Well, their "craziness" inspired almost all forms of modern religion [wikipedia religion] if you really think about it. They had the underworld and we have hell. See any similarities. The bottom line is those people were creative.

Some might call the Egyptians crazy as they do for almost every individual that walks the fine line between the "Real world" and the "Creative World" (and it is a fine line indeed). Creativity is nearly a state of mania if you think about it. In order to design something that has not yet materialized into solid form before us so that we may touch, taste, smell, hear or see evidence of its existence we must bend the rules of what we know to exist and use the building blocks of reality to construct the vessels of our imagination. We are the only beings on the planet that can make something that we can mentally perceive become something that we can physically interact with. I do believe however that this ability comes with great consequence.

Creativity Quotes by ~harrycantdraw on deviantART

C R E A T I V I T Y
"
Creative people don't fully accept this prison for which we live known as the real world. Creative people don't abide by the rules of the real world. If they did a few of your most prized luxury's would never have been invented.
"

Like I said before, being creative is one step away from being crazy. Creative people don't fully accept this prison for which we live known as the real world. Creative people don't abide by the rules of the real world. If they did a few of your most prized luxury's would never have been invented. Who would imagine that human beings, as awkward and heavy as we are, would be soaring through the skies faster than the birds them self? Good thing the Wright Brothers did [wikipedia Wright brothers]. Who would imagine being able to speak to someone more than a billion miles away almost instantaneously without the ruse of telekinesis or psychic phenomenon? Good thing Alexander Bell did [wikipedia Alexander Bell]. Who would have thought that we would be able to stare into a shiny black box and see live images of an entire world right outside our window from the comfort of our own home? Good thing the inventor of the television did [wikipedia Television]? All of things we take for granted born of some other person (or people's) imagination.

In most cases the inventors of our modern conveniences were labeled with the standard disclaimers for those for whom we wish not to understand (crazy, lunatic, insane, strange, out of their mind, head in the clouds, etc, etc). If it weren't for them (and all of the other's like them) however we would not be able to advance or go beyond the perceived limitations of the world around us.

Who would have thought a man would be able to walk on the moon. Throughout our human existence we have imagined it. We even named the moon "moon" from a character that exists within our fiction [wikipedia moon]. Today where're talking about going to Mars [BBC Mars]. Imaginations affords us boundless opportunities. We are no longer confined behind the bars of gravity, light nor perception. We can go above, beyond, within and without in almost a fraction of a second. I still sometimes wonder if this is the real world. Are we somehow (being as creative as we are) projecting our desires onto the dark gray carcass of reality? Have we simply grown so manically creative that we have reshaped the perception(s) of an entire planet? Are we all "crazies" running around free while the normal ones are being locked away? There would probably be no one to tell.

Creativity is the ship on which I sail the turbulent seas of reality. I'm headed off to discover new territory, are you coming with me? I hope there is enough wind in my sail? I hope that we don't run aground nor encounter any fierce hurricanes. I can only imagine that this is going to be an adventure of a lifetime. I can only imagine.

You want more? Check out the follow up question to this post on Yahoo! Answers.

The five o five : Friday, November 2, 2007

Patience is a Virtue

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

What are you waiting for? Money? Fame? Recognition? A Promotion? Love?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

How long are you willing to wait for it? An hour? A minute? A year? A decade? A millennium?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

Time's up! Put you pencils down and turn in your tests. Now let me look at your answers.

.........................................................................................

Its worse than I thought. Please have a seat on the couch and lets get started.

Patience. For some people its a terrible word. It means waiting. It means not getting your way right now. Its a contradiction to the commercial reality that we live in. Some of us just simple loathe every non eventful moment of our lives. We got to keep moving. There's got to be something happening at every second of everyday or else we'll make something happen. Why are we like this? What is out problem?

P A T I E N C E
"
We tap our foot and curse at the red light. Our server is the annoying barrier between us and our hot plate of food at the restaurant. We dread every minute we have to sit and wait for our doctor to call us in. The lines at the amusement park are there to delay our exciting ride experience. Microwave pop corn just takes to long to pop.
"

An impatient lifestyle is marketed to us at a very early age. What do babies care about time? Nothing. But how many crying babies have you seen send their idle mothers and fathers into a scrambling frenzy the moment they hear the shrill teary eyed hollering of a hungry, tired, wet, lonely infant? Look at the way we are entertained as children also. When we were wide eyed inquisitive toddlers we probably watched brightly colored cartoon role models zip across the T.V. screen running, jumping, falling, and chasing some other neon hued nemesis or ally (think Tom and Jerry, Coyote and Road Runner, Speedy Gonzales, etc). From an early age being slow was never acceptable. Little boys played with fast cars and bicycles that resembles motor cycles. Little girls had it a bit easier with their toys, that is until Barbie could instantly grow hair. SO we grow up thinking, "I WANT IT NOW NOW NOW!"

We tap our foot and curse at the red light. Our server is the annoying barrier between us and our hot plate of food at the restaurant. We dread every minute we have to sit and wait for our doctor to call us in. The lines at the amusement park are there to delay our exciting ride experience. Microwave pop corn just takes to long to pop. Why is waiting such a bad thing? What makes patience such a villain?

....................................................................................

I'm patient. I sometimes enjoy the hours between the something and the nothingness. Red lights are the times I use to write down important ideas. I enjoy the conversation that waiting for food at restaurants allow. The doctors office is the perfect place to work on an unfinished art project. The lines leading up to the new ride is what make the ride so much more exciting. But you are right that microwave popcorn does take too long.

So what can we do about patience (or our lack there of). Is not having patience truly that big a deal? Is having patience honestly that great a virtue? Does waiting or not waiting illustrate to the world what our agenda is? How far we'll make it in life. In the end don't we still have to wait? No matter how fast you can run. Now matter how much pointless activity we fill our nothing moments with we still have to ride along with the stream of time itself.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I know its somewhat of an annoyance but what can anyone do about it?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

We just have to relax a little bit and hope that every thing turns out right.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

A watched pot never boils, nor does grass grow, or paint dry quicker, or life move any faster.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

Time's up.

Read the follow up question to this post at Yahoo! Answers

The five o five : Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Waiting to Exhale

*Inhale

Why do fools fall in love?
Money can't buy me love.
Love don't cost a thing.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, LOVE!!!!! What is really going on with the world? Everybody is talking about it, "Love this, and love that."

"I think I love my wife, I found love on a two way street, love me or leave me alone." but I honestly wonder do people really believe in love or is it another one of those commercial marketing schemes like Ginsu Knives or the Swiffer Sweeper. Love does sound more like something you can rub on a bad relationship to get the stains out or at least that's how American culture treats it.

L O V E
"
I opened it carefully not wanting to nick or tear this fine delicate artifact. This was an historic event. My journey into manhood documented on college ruled eight and a half by eleven inch paper. The first entry into my personal history book. It was finally open lying before me naked and wrinkled. Large bubbly words danced about the surface ignoring both lines and margins but holding firm within their blue and white cage. This was it.
"

I remember being younger and around Valentines day everyone was buzzing about this love thing, but back then love (for a 5 year old) was only applicable to your mommy, your auntie, your granny, and maybe your doggie. Love had nothing to do with girlfriend or boyfriend or anything even nearly that icky. As a teenager, I remember love becoming a bit more complex with the acquired knowledge of kissing and the opposite sex. It seemed like the most exciting thing in the world. The best activity ever. I imagined it in the same category as monopoly, scrabble or something similar to tag. Love was the greatest game I couldn't wait to play. The problem with love, however, was that it wasn't as simple a game as you would like it to be. You don't just pick teams and your players don't always play fair. I remember several of my teenage crushes (potential team mates) being interested in signing to my fall roster but negotiations never followed all the way through. I didn't have a girlfriend until I was 14 y'all. A freshman in high school.

So what about that? How did that first time really feel? What was my first experience with the game of love all about and why did I do it? Well, it happened like this (cue the flash back sequence);

I was sitting in an auditorium in front of some random girls (I was a nerd so you only sat near girls or by girls but never with them) when one of them, from behind me, hands me a note. It was folded up neatly along with the standard, "I'm a girl," signature fold and at first I thought it was to be passed along to someone else. I didn't look back. I was afraid to. Looking into the eyes of a girl back then was just like staring directly at the sun. You instantly become blind and powerless and no 14 year old boy wants that to happen. So I look down at the letter and written on the front fold was my name, spelled incorrectly of course. Nervousness swept over me in a way that almost made me pee on myself. It wasn't the fact that a girl had handed me a letter but it was the fact that a girl had handed me a letter that was actually for me. I opened it carefully not wanting to nick or tear this fine delicate artifact. This was an historic event. My journey into manhood documented on college ruled eight and a half by eleven inch paper. The first entry into my personal history book. It was finally open lying before me naked and wrinkled. Large bubbly words danced about the surface ignoring both lines and margins but holding firm within their blue and white cage. This was it.

The letter was less of a letter and more of a survey. It was one of those simple questionnaires that almost every "love crazed" youth has taken part in. I carefully chose my own answer.

Do you like me? Yes | No

I circled yes not even looking back to see which of the girls had actually sent the inquiry but any girl that liked me then It was a shoeing that I would like them back. I circled yes more than one to be certain that whoever had sent it could see it clearly then I clumsily folded the note back and nervously passed it over my right shoulder. It seemed like an eternity before it returned to my possession. In the seconds that passed in between me have the note and passing it back I had projected an entire future with this mystery girl. We were married, had children, lived in a big house together, had a dog, and were in love. Ahhhhhhhhh love.

The letter came back to me and this time with a bit more confidence I opened it a read the response,

I think you're cute.

L O V E
"
I think love needs to be redefined. Our lives are so over saturated with the word and concept of love that it no longer holds the value it once did. Love is one of the biggest marketing tools ever. We wear it. We eat it. We blow our noses on it. It covers our baby's bottoms. It tastes great and is less filling. Its damn near everywhere.
"

That's all I needed, confirmation that this wasn't god's sick joke for a lonely dweeb. I wrote back, "I think you are cute too," folded the letter and slowly turned around to sacrifice my vision for a glance into the eyes of a goddess. (All girls were goddesses back then) When my neck finally carried my head the full circumference of the 180 degrees there she was before me. I handed her the letter and shot a semi confident glare in her direction. She let out a shy giggle and just like that, boom. Confidence gone. My brawn bubble had busted and I was reminded that I was a nerd all over again. Its one thing to look at them but it’s an entirely different thing to hear them speak. My hands were shaky and my entire body was tense. I was sick. I felt like I was gonna die. No. I was in love.

After that day me and the girl "went together" which was nothing more than a phone calling and note passing activity to occupy the otherwise boring school day. It was the sort of game you'd play on a rainy day because you can't go outside. All 14 days of our relationship turned out to be nothing like they had shown on television and I was slightly disappointed yet thoroughly intrigued.

Of course she broke up with me in the end. It was not more than a simple phone call saying her mom said she was too young for relationships. Where do girls learn how to let a man down so easy from anyway?

So love. What is it really for? What is its honest purpose? I genuinely loved this girl. I think I even said it to her after the third conversation. Is it something we do to ourselves to bond us with another individual or is it something that happens to us as a result of meeting the "right one". Why is love such an utter mystery. Why is love such a scavenger hunt? Why is love such a dice game? Why is love such a joust match? Why do we play this game? Are they any actual winners? It reminds me of the lottery, have you ever known anyone personally who won. Why does love not come with an instruction book? Are their any rules? How do you know whose turn it is? What happens if you lose? Do you go to jail and go directly to jail, do not pass go and do not collect your $200 dollars? Can I cash in my love for money now? What is the point?

Now, before someone tells my fiancé that I have cold feet and she needs to leave me alone allow me to conclude with an explanation. I think love needs to be redefined. Our lives are so over saturated with the word and concept of love that it no longer holds the value it once did. Love is one of the biggest marketing tools ever. We wear it. We eat it. We blow our noses on it. It covers our baby's bottoms. It tastes great and is less filling. Its damn near everywhere. We don't love each other, we love LOVE! But what about the true essence of it all? I thought it at one time was an actual emotion? Not just a word. If I could go back in time I would ask my first "girlfriend" did she really "love" me? If she didn't outright say no she would probably respond with, "I don't know". We play the game before we even understand the rules and that even goes for adults. What are we doing? We know how the pieces work. Rooks move straight. Bishops move in diagonals. We hold hands. Kiss. Look into each others eyes. Such an incredible chess match is love indeed. But what is the prize? Happiness? Security? Love itself? Sometimes, this, I still wonder.

Do you believe in love? Yes | No

*Exhale

Read the follow up question to this post on Yahoo! Answers

The five o five : Monday, October 29, 2007

Back to the future

Ever since I was was young I was obsessed with time. You have to imagine though (with me being an eighties baby and all) that I had a very good reason to be. It

B A L A N C E
"
All you have to do is devise an itinerary of the things you need to do and the things you want to do in order to get them all done and if you don't get them done today then just carry the activity over to tomorrow. So you you go through your whole day crossing things successfully off the list. All the way up until the sun goes down. You wake up the next morning and make your new list including the things you didn't do the day before. You make it to the end of another day, once again without finishing the list off, so you you once again put them on the next day's list. You continue to do do this everyday until you realize (when you turn 26) that you are still carrying over list items from when you were 18!
"

seems that the entire world was contemplating the dilemma of time and mortality. We had the songs on the radio, the movies at the theater, and the shows on television all talking about the intricacies of time and the universe. For an impressionable young person it was enough to mold me into the mildly crazed adult that you see here. So what is it about time that had us so befuddled? Back to the Future stands out the most. You remember; Michael J. Fox (Marty McFly) jumps into his Delorian (Time Machine) and travels back in time (totally by accident) and ends up almost dating his own mother thus altering the course of history thus almost erasing himself from time all together. Now Back to the Future was an interesting examination of the consequences of time travel but for some reason (ignoring the films own stark warning about the dangers of such an act) Marty goes on to do it on three other occasions making his time travel adventures a trilogy. Soon after there was a television cartoon series produced based on the show and every episode had Marty traveling through time not only mucking up his own family linage but altering important historic events as well. What the hell? So what does all of this have to do with balance?

Growing up (being influenced by the world of media imagination) I was one of those wide eyed youth that didn't believe in limits. At one point I seriously thought I could fly. I would make audible sound effects every time I punched my fist or jumped off a high curb. The world was not exciting enough so instead of being depressed about it I imagined it more eventful. As I got older I grew out of most of my childish activity. I still sometimes make sound effects when I jump but I still held firm to my obsession with time. Now since I discovered in adulthood that time travel is not yet possible I decided to make try to make the most out of the time that we are all given to work with. That means balancing your activities to fit within this stiff box of daylight and night time. There is so much too do and so little time. It almost upsets me that this is the way that human life goes. You have to cram all that you have to do with all that you want to do into this small window of hours between the time you wake and the time you go back to sleep. When you're a child you don't worry about this sort of thing but as an adult it becomes an all consuming activity. So you are taught that you have to balance.

At first it sounds so simple. All you have to do is devise an itinerary of the things you need to do and the things you want to do in order to get them all done and if you don't get them done today then just carry the activity over to tomorrow. So you you go through your whole day crossing things successfully off the list. All the way up until the sun goes down. You wake up the next morning and make your new list including the things you didn't do the day before. You make it to the end of another day, once again without finishing the list off, so you you once again put them on the next day's list. You continue to do do this everyday until you realize (when you turn 26) that you are still carrying over list items from when you were 18! What kind of sense does that make. How can your life ever be or feel accomplished when there is simply not enough time to accomplish anything. Add in school, work, family, friends and yourself and everyday of your life is filled with multiple demanding possible unfulfilled list items. If you look at it like that you are likely to just give up and become one of those "timeless" slackers that are looked down upon. The ones that carve away their waking moments playing Halo 3 and chatting on their cell phones. I didn't want to be one of those. I know to many of them personally and I wanted a higher quality of life (although sometimes their lifestyle appears quite appealing). I wanted to be somebody so I tried to wark hard at balancing my list.

I thought that maybe all I had to do was reorder my list in such a way that the things of most importance get done first and the other things (of I suppose least importance) go to the bottom. For a while this works but then life has its way of throwing its curve balls at you (i.e. bills, children, family, relationships etc...) So frustration sets in. I almost had given up. I'm 26 and I haven't finished college. I'm 26 and I'm not a professional anything yet. I'm 26 and I don't have my own house, my own car or a billion dollars in the bank. Those were on my list but at this rate I won't get to them until I'm 90.

What I wouldn't give for a Delorian right now.

B A L A N C E
"
Suddenly the picture was complete. The puzzle was finally finished. The Rubix Cube of life was now solved.
"

Then as I had lost all hope. As I had thought this is the way that it was gonna be from here on out I had ran into the sole reason I had so many list items in the first place (my role model, Jeff Johnson). When he was my age he had a posh condominium. He drove a Beamer. He had style. He had swagger. He was everything I knew I wanted by the same age. So when we met again I almost wanted to call him a liar or blame him for all my failures. I almost wanted to start throwing things and yell "liar this" and "ass hole" that, but I remained composed. We conversed about time and all other things "adult" until we finally came to the subject of balance. I told him how overwhelmed I was that my life had taken such an off centered and he responded dryly, "There is no such thing as balance." I wanted to punch him dead in the nose but his statement had literally stole my breath away. He had just burned my entire life agenda in one fiery huff.

"Balance is an act that must always be maintained," He continued.

Suddenly the picture was complete. The puzzle was finally finished. The Rubix Cube of life was now solved. He had not said much but he had said everything I needed to hear. It all made sense now. I thought back on Back to the Future and I understood the real point of the film. I understood that every time he went back and changed something in the past he had to change something else in order to restore the balance. Balance doesn't happen on its own you have to make it happen and not just once but whenever needed. His statement didn't make me forget about all that I was hoping for in life but it did make me think about how to better manage the present. The present is all we have. Balance is an act. It requires maintenance. If life leans left then tilt right. Its just like riding a bike. Of all the lessons I've learned in life this late chapter may be the most profound. This lesson is the reason I do this very blog at 505 in the morning. This lesson is the reason why I still push towards my the goals even though I may have already lost the race. Balance is an act. So as the curtains close and the spotlight goes dim I hope that there is applause when I take my final bow.

Balance is an act. Marty would be so jealous.

Balance