Bully X-1B

Searing comet of memory

Brings the blunt iron pain again

Your orbit around my spirit

Is long and longer now

But screams flaming by

Poison gravity pulling hard

Even suffering thus for now

I vow not to wall up my heart

For all the peace that intervenes

Hello boys and girls

It's been brought to my attention, and politely at that, by friends whose opinions carry weight, that my blog is kind of the Mr. Rogers Neighborhood of the Blogosphere. Lot's of "Let's just all get along" and "Guess what I did when I was a kid?"  Fair enough, and frankly, I was grateful for the feedback.  One thing I strongly believe about feedback - it should be received and allowed to soak in without rushing to respond with a defense or rationalization.  Don't say you welcome feedback and then shout it down. . . and most especially when it's right on target.

 I am not without opinions, and many fairly strong stances on subjects that often inspire spirited debate in the media, around the water cooler at work, or the few remaining text-free dinner tables.  What I don't aspire to do through my blog though, is to bring you over to my way of thinking.  Hell, I'm not really sure half the time what my percentage of full-of-shit is, much less whether my opinion bears sharing.  I'll enthusiastically continue to offer my thoughts and opinions on a variety of topics, but yes, I'll also continue to shy away from those I feel are particularly incendiary.

 There are topics I've toyed with developing here in IMHO, like bullying for example.  I was bullied as a child.  And yes, I can attest to the validity of recent studies showing that the impact is real, it is measurable, and it shapes and stays with the adult you one day hopefully become.  Every time I've tried to write about it I end up thinking that someday this blog entry will be used against me in a court of law.  My defense attorney would not be amused.  So just in case you're wondering, no, bullying results in not a hint of anger issues.

 I could offer my opinion about certain legislation that I'm opposed to.  For example, I could let all three of you who read my blog know how passionate I am about government staying out of the business of deciding who may or may not get married.  Here's a short blog entry on that topic - "Anyone familiar with the phrase Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?  Or was that something I read in one of my sci-fi novels describing some utopian society in another world?

 Without a doubt I could go on about the above topics or a number of others.  But as I've said before, in this post as well as previous offerings, I'm just not interested in having a contentious or controversial feel to this tiny bit of cyper property.  It's my lawn and I'll put out pink flamingos instead of campaign signs if I want to. So if you're sick of having a soft place to land once in awhile for a minute or two of whatever this is, I get it. And I also know there's more than enough of what you're looking for out there.  One thing the internet is not lacking is rant.

 What I'm finding funny right this moment is this - I know that those who know me well are thinking "it's just a matter of time before he goes off on something."  It's only funny because it's true.  I can rant with the best of 'em.  One day it'll happen.  I'll be a little too hungry feeling a little too pressured to produce a blog post, and a few of you, if you're still here, won't be disappointed...

Seemed like a good idea at the time.

 I'm equal parts amused and bemused as I look back on various things I undertook or did as a matter of routine that I would at a minimum hesitate to do today and more likely outright refuse to repeat with a dismissive snort. I shake my head in disbelief sometimes when I recall some of the nutty stuff that seemed perfectly normal when I was in the midst of it.

 As a boy of ten or so years old, for example, it was no big deal to get up on a summer morning, grab a random box from the garage or basement, and walk a half mile or so to my best snake hunting field.  There I would stalk, catch, examine, and sometimes bring home the finest garter snakes to be found in all of Genesee County.  On the rare occasion that one would reel and bite me, it was as much a curiosity as it was, oh I don't know... a snake biting me?  What makes it so amusing now is the way I know way down where I know stuff for sure that today I would just as soon not reach down and pick up a writhing snake for any reason, most especially a recreational one.  And furthermore, if you're the one bold enough to do so, don't be handing it to me. So how does one progress (regress?) from being comfortable with heading out for a snake hunt after a bowl of Alphabits to being real real ok with never coming within sight of a snake in the wild again?

 Fast forward to me as an adult in his mid forties.  Years of growing up to make increasingly better judgements under my belt, I make one of the most folly imbued, bafflingly defenseless decisions of my life.  And I can only hope it remains the biggest one of my life for all time.  The funny thing is, I remember the very moment - I could show you the specific location along my running route, when it seemed perfectly rational to enter a 100k ultra marathon.  Yup, I was going to spend the summer of 2011 training to race along a winding path from Gaylord to Mackinaw City.  Not once during that lost summer of training runs often lasting as long as five or six hours do I remember having a second thought.  I have to admit it was kinda fun playing the role of mad nutritional scientist, trying to figure out and dial in just exactly how you fuel yourself through such extremes of endurance.  In the end, it's not much fancier than not getting low on sodium, and consuming as many calories as you can hold down while staying reasonably hydrated.

 I had to take a week off work after that race.  It felt like I'd survived a train wreck in which I was found a hundred yards from the train.  There are people who take races like this and even longer ones in stride. No pun intended.  .  .  They may do a few of them in a given year.  I am not nor could I ever be one of these people.  When I reflect on this running accomplishment it's as if I'm spying someone else's memory.  I really can't believe I did it. And I don't mean that in a pat-myself-on-the-back way.  I mean it much more in a what-the-hell-was-I-thinking way.

  Don't think for a minute that these are the only two examples of dubious behavior I could come up with. But as you know if you've visited this kooky blog before, I try to mercifully draw each entry to a close after asking just a couple minutes of your time, understandably spent wondering why you again visited this kooky blog.  But I'm glad you did.  I'm hoping it won't quite rate up there with snake hunts and 62 mile runs on your own list of questionable acts.

This ... is PNN

 Would you watch PNN?  And of course much more importantly, would advertisers buy ad time.  I guess one goes with the other.  If enough people watch, the ad revenue will come.  But I'm getting way ahead of myself. Let me catch you up a bit.  PNN is a new cable news network I'm launching...in my head.  Positive News Network.  PNN would send it's talented and effervescent reporters on assignment to bring to our televisions, computers, and mobile devices the positive human interest stories that happen all around the world every day and are rarely given any media attention.

 The mission of PNN is not to unseat the existing news networks.  Nor is it born of the notion that conflict, politics, famine and legal tangles should not be reported.  But speaking for myself, both a consumer of media as well as the founder and benevolent overlord of PNN, I'd love a feel-good alternative that I could turn to on channel 764 when I needed a lift.
 
 Now you may say, and correctly, that major network and cable news stations often devote time during the broadcast day to highlight a positive, grab a tissue sort of story.  Yes, but it's such a small portion of the broadcast, you'd be lucky to catch it.  And in my opinion it's the broadcast news equivalent of an "image song."  A retired disk jockey once shared that concept with me.  He said that rock stations will insert the occasional obscure cut of Led Zeppelin, Yes, or Rush to remind listeners that their station is the more legit choice for "real" rock fans.

 PNN will leave the "If it bleeds it leads" approach to those who have raised it to an art form.  Our program will lead with a teacher in Roanoke who receives a report card from each student in her class after every marking period.  Next we go to Glen in Nashville who is interviewing musicians who won't allow you into the concert hall unless you're accompanied by a child ... who gets in free, by the way.  Then we check in with Gayle, who's tearfully both reporting on and witness to the reunion of 62 year old twins who never knew before this week that they had a sister.  Tearfully reporting you ask? Yes, automatons need not apply.

 Of course, there are a few remaining details to work out before the big launch of PNN.  There's the "voice" of PNN.  The voice of Darth Vader is taken, and probably not a good fit anyway.  I'm thinking more along the lines of Betty White.  Then there's the small issue of start up capital, recruitment, licences, ... yeah, it could be awhile before we appear in your coffee and salsa stained channel guide, but the dream won't die. On that I give you my word.  And so it goes.... wait, that's taken isn't it? Someone get with Linda Ellerbee's people. . .

Sure I could live without it, but...

 I was discussing comfort food the other day with my mom, who, along with being my perennial pick for mom of the year, is a fabulous cook.  So in reality, my chat with her was a cleverly disguised ploy to get invited over for the very definition of comfort food - her obscenely delicious and not at all heart- healthy oven fried chicken.  Later, I reflected on the idea of comfort food, along with other comfort stuff...

 I took a mental look around and came up with an eclectic inventory of things I  treasure, and take comfort in knowing they're around - even if I rarely use or as much as look at them.  The term "prized possessions" doesn't apply here, as I'm not referring to things like trophies or items of great monetary value.

 For example, you can have your pots and pans - your precious silverware and electric appliances, all the granite counters and sun catchers you like ... but it's not a kitchen worth walking into without Oreos. Original Oreos.  And a backup package if there's less than one row left.

 Leaving the kitchen for the bedroom, two things can be and I expect will always be found.  A pair of Chuck Taylor high tops with knots at the ends of the laces, because they never get tied.  Hanging in the closet, my thrice worn and memory washed "birthin' shirt.  Yes, the same shirt I wore at the birth of each of our three children.  I no longer ever wear it, but it would be the very last shirt I'd get rid of.  Comfort food on a hanger.

 Taking a listen to my music collection you'll notice a good sampling of Elton John.  Through all the changes in format over the years, albums to cassettes to cd to digital downloads, one musician has always been there...Sir Elton.  Sometimes there's just nothing to compare to the comfort found along the Yellow Brick Road.  There is plenty of music I listen to more often, but none has a more secure spot in my lineup of tunes.

 And finally we arrive at ( wait for it...) the bathroom. Saved for last so that my lovely wife can get in a good eye-roll just when she thought I was done with this bit of foolishness.  Indeed, my list of  treasures would not be complete without Bathroom Monkey.  Since I was small enough to swing my feet while seated on the toilet, Bathroom Monkey has been there to oversee things.

 I'd love to hear from others about their list of essential non-essentials.  I think the list can say a lot about a person...except for Bathroom Monkey...don't read too much into that.  He's a bit of wierdness passed along from mom of the year.  There's probably a story there, but some stones are best left unturned...

One more time with feeling...

 I'd love to fire up my blog every few days with abundant sun shining down on unicorns tracing the arc of a rainbow.  But alas, we're living real lives that sometimes hurt. And sometimes it's the hurt of a heart being ripped from your chest.  When the event that causes such pain is completely unexpected, well, there just aren't words... That being said though, I'd like to consider words.  The ones we don't always bother to say. The ones we'd give anything to go back and say - with feeling.

 We've all experienced or at least heard of a person trying to deal with a sudden, completely unexpected death of a loved one.  Perhaps a person who was young or in the so called prime of life.  One such heart wrenching loss recently touched the unprepared hearts of people very close to me.  The tears I have shed are for them and the suffering that I can only imagine.  I'm reminded once again though of the uncertainty of life, and all too often...of death.  And I'm reminded too of the importance of goodbye.

 How many times have I parted for the day from the people I love the most with a "yup" or a "don't forget to..." or nothing at all save the sound of the front door clicking shut?  She can't hear me anyway with the blow dryer going.  He's in too big a hurry to hold him up with a hug.  May I offer with not the slightest hint of delicacy, "Bullshit"

 Does an "I love you" or a hug stop unexpected awfulness from happening?  Of course not. Would it somehow soften the searing pain of loss? Not a bit.  But in the days we hope will come on the other side of the tempest of anguish, I think there would be a measure of comfort there, perhaps one less regret.  So in the end is this simply a selfish insurance against my own potential suffering?  In part, perhaps.  But in the meantime, on all the days that aren't visited by tragedy, it's a pretty good habit to add to the short list of other good habits I try to follow, and it may from time to time send a loved one into even a rainy morning with a moment of abundant sunshine.

Malignant Narcissism?

 Ok, I guess it's time to address the elephant in this blog.  Why did I decide to start one, and perhaps the better question, what made me think anyone else would care?  And what's with the title of the thing? In Mike's Humble Opinion.  What's even remotely humble about linking every published word you eek out to Facebook, Twitter, and wherever else it may show up in the interwebs.  Some of these questions and also the technical term interwebs come from a good friend James, who asked me quite directly about my thoughts and intentions as a newly minted blogger feigning humility.

 I do hope this comes off more as a simple response than a defense.  It's not like I'm trying to justify some reckless or unethical behavior.  But it's also my hope that at least not too many people view me as a completely ego driven hypocrite.  First the easiest answer...regarding the title I chose for my blog.  As most people who spend any time texting and social networking know, our language is slowly getting boiled down to a growing collection of abbreviations and acronyms.  One such is IMHO, which is often inserted just before responding to a question or issue.  It stands for "in my humble opinion."  As I sat in my favorite seat in my favorite coffee shop poised to release my blog into cyberspace - lacking only a title, it dawned on me. My name does in fact start with an M and my blog will probably be made up mostly of my opinions, so eureka, we have a winner!

 But there's still the problem of the H.  As I stated in my very first blog post, I'm doing this more for me than for you.  I enjoy writing. I'm not talented enough to do it for a living, or even for a meal, but I'd love to get better at it none the less. It's simply my nature to strive for improvement in my passions.  Be it writing, running or 'rithmetic. (not really 'rithmetic, but I'm an absolute fool for alliteration)... By maintaining a blog, I have a defined place to go play, which is also a place to keep my musings organized.  By posting to social networking sites, it is my hope that I'll receive some feedback along the way that could help me improve and grow as a writer.  Not a famous or influential writer, but a writer just the same, simply defined by the fact that instead of watching reruns on TV tonight, I'm writing. No big deal.

So if you stumble across one or more of my blog posts and have a thought or two about how I might have expressed something more effectively, or if you are offended by an affront to proper syntax, please feel free to let me know.  That's what I'm fishing for when I dangle my line in the waters of your news feed.  If you return not to comment, but just to again get a peek at the oddity of my thought process, that's fine too. We all need someplace to go for a little distraction, and sometimes reruns just don't do the job.