Brother, can you spare a sign?

I don't know about other cities, but here in Jacksonville, Florida, I have noticed a lot of people on the road side holding advertising signs.

At first, I didn't pay much attention to this phenomenon. However, as time passed I began to have questions about what I was seeing.  Why did businesses need to have these sign wielding people out on the street? Why would anyone in there right mind want to stand on the roadside with a sign.  Surely there were better jobs to be had.  Then it hit me, this was all due to our less than prosperous economy.  Before I detail my hypothesis, let me first say that this is not a political rant.  It is my intent to focus on the situation and not the political debate. I will leave that to suckers and those that are gluttons for punishment.

Lets start with businesses.  Lets face it, the economy sucks.  There are no two ways about it, its just plain bad.  Sales are down and advertising is expensive.   The solution: hire some poor fool to stand on the street corner  smiling, waving, dancing, and acting silly.   All the while holding up a sign.  I've seen this done for every business imaginable: pizza joints, cigarette stores, liquor stores, pawn shops, cellular phone stores,  name it and I've probably seen it.  Come to think of it, the only business I haven't seen use this form of advertisement is a strip club.  Well duh, of course, strip clubs make money in any economic environment.  After al, a strip club provides an escape from ones worries, but at the expense of money he or she probably can't afford to part ways with.  Those G-strings are hungry for five dollar bills!  Lets get back to the signs.  I believe the only reason a person would entertain the thought of holding one of those signs on a street is because he or she has no job.  It's a sign of our times, and an example of our crappy economy, and crappy job market.

Economists have refereed to our economic conditions as "The Great Recession." It reminds me of the great depression of the 1930's.  Any event or happening with the term "Great" in the title has to have a memorable slogan that get passed down through the generations, and learned about in school.   A common phrase that came out of the great depression was "Brother, can you spare a dime?"  Back then a few dimes added up to something to put in ones stomach.  The great recessions has, "Brother, can you spare a sign?"  I imagine holding up one of those signs would earn a person around 20 dollars, and that adds up to something in my stomach.  Man, inflation sucks!  On the bright side, these signs and their holders might very well do what economists have struggled with: forecast an end to the recession.  When we start to see fewer and fewer human advertisements on the street corner, brothers and sisters, we will know there is indeed a light at the end of the tunnel.

Until next time, keep your back to the wall and your finger on the safety...........

Waiting on a train............

I decided to to a ride through the west side of downtown Jacksonville, on the way back I got stuck at a train track for quite a while. While I was siting on my bike pondering the length of the steal beast that was passing in front of me a thought came to my mind: This train sort of represented my current state of affairs.  Having just gotten off of one of life's trains, I now find my self waiting to board another.  I am just not sure what it will be.  Doing the same thing for 22 years tends to make one complacent.  I feel like the character from Shawshank Redemption: Brooks Hatlen, so wonderfully portrayed by James Whitmore.  Like old Brooks, I was institutionalized.  Granted, I was not in prison, but the military is very structured.  I couldn't just up and quit  any time I wanted, and "the man" always had his thumb on my back.  Not knowing just what to do has led me back to school to study Psychology.  Do you know what is so damn ironic about this?  I'll tell you: twenty two years ago I was attending college and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.  I seeming postponed making a decision by doing the obvious, I enlisted in the Navy. though my name's not "Davey", though I was in the navy, for life!  I digress.  Now, here I sit not knowing what to do with the rest of my life. How do I, again, postpone making a decision?  I go back to school.  Life has a funny way of taking you full circle.  Here is the thing: it's not really a circle at all, It's more like a cork screw moving sideways.  As it loops back around you get the feeling that you've been here before.  Unlike Brooks, who couldn't handle the outside and put himself out of his misery, I plan on boarding another train and seeing where It takes me.  Speaking truthfully, I did almost let it get the better of me.  However, equipped with an  explorer's sense of adventure, I feel that I am ready to see whats next in this beautiful life.

One last thought: I enabled add placement on my blog because I might be able to make a little money.  I am not sure If I like this, The adds are annoying and I don't think it is worth the extra income.  What do you think?  I think I know the answer, but let me know anyway.

Until next time, "Stay Classy!"

Careful What You Think

So, the other day I went to a support group for depression and bipolar. As I was sitting, I was gazing around the circle of people just sort of observing. Some are nervous and fidgety, others are nervously eyeing the group and I'm think to myself, what a goofy bunch of people. All so very weird. Then it hits me: they are probably thinking the same thing about me. Wow, I don't just look like them, I am them.  Like it or not, I have clinical depression, anxiety, panic attacks, sleep disorder, and of course,  my good friend PTSD. Just thinking about it still weirds me out. But hey, going to support groups is a very helpful thing, it gives me the chance to talk with peers, say whats on my mind and not feel like I'm being judged or evaluated. Maybe in hindsight, it is not so weird.  I mean hey, isn't that what we all want and need? To be able to talk about what pisses us off with out the feeling of being under a spotlight. So yes, I suffer from all of the above, and yes, I have my days when I'm not good to be around because I act like a complete bastard. I acknowledge this and I'm working to better myself. That is about all I can do.

I got a good ride in today. It was one of those days you just feel so lucky to be able to be on your bike. The air was cool and crisp, the sun was out and it was a little windy.  I thought about wearing arm warmers and leg warmers since the temperature was in the mid 50's. Instead, I kicked it old school. Arm warmers with my jersey and only my bib shorts. I put some heat rub on my legs with a bit of baby oil. This keeps the wind and slight cold at bay.  It turned out to be a good choice! The ride was interesting, I did a 30 mile loop that is kind of a box shape.  The wind was out of the west, north west.  I had the wind from every possible angle, side, tail wind and head wind.  I did a moderate pace in the small chain ring.  I am still being gentle with my SI joint, so I try to keep my effort to the easy side. I try to keep my cadence between 85-90 RPM's. Today this translated into an 17.5 MPH average. I like these kinds of rides. You aren't putting yourself in the red, so you end of having lots of time to think and reflect.  When I ride alone I listen to my IPod and before you say it, I know, it's not a good idea to have buds in your ears while riding, I guess I am safe enough despite this.  I have really good reaction time and I am usually hyper aware of what is happening around me.  This is one instance that my PTSD is to my advantage.  All the time spent watching the road for IED's and other pleasantries has given me a keen sense of my surroundings and gives me the ability to see and react to things before most people are even aware something isn't right. If I can ever manage to get some racing fitness, I firmly believe this will be a sort of secret weapon and I will be the better racer for it.  That's my thinking anyway.

Until next time, be nice to one another and keep the rubber side down.

It's what's in your heart, not your heart rate!

I've been involved in the sport of cycling for the past 28 years. What started out as rehabilitation for a dislocated shoulder, soon blossomed into my passion. I love riding my bike! I love the ritual, putting on my kit (cycle speak for that goofy spandex outfit cyclists wear!), Cleaning and performing maintenance on my bike, talking about riding and racing and the latest gear. Yep, I like it all. But lately I've started to get back to basics with my riding. These days, It seems like anyone who's anyone has to know all about power output, or wattage, lactate threshold, heart rate and the techno/science babble goes on and on. It just sort of pisses me off to the point that I roll my eyes whenever I see someone rolling down the road with a power meter on their ride. I was a pretty good amateur back in the day; in fact, I have dreams of becoming a damn good masters cyclist. But I digress, the thing is, I want to care less about the data, and more about what my body is telling me. I've done this sport for so long that I know when my seat is lowered or raised by a half millimeter.And hey, Sean Kelly never had a damn power meter! But he did have a lot of heart.  So for me, all I care about is throwing a leg over the top tube and just where the hell I want to ride today. I might look at my mileage and speed from time to time, but that is it.  

On another note, I am nursing a sacroiliac joint injury. If you're not familiar, the SI joint is where your hip connects to your spine at the S-1

The SI joint allows for torsional movement. Years of repetitive movement, yep, cycling, have made this joint kind of gimpy, and it will flare up from time to time. It sucks because the pain can be quite severe and the only thing that makes the injury better is rest.  One cool thing I figured out is my position on the bike has a huge effect on this joint.  As a lot of cyclists age, they will begin to move to a more upright position on the bike. This is usually because of lack of flexibility which prohibits a more aggressive position.  If your unfamiliar, picture a rider with a flat back and their handle bars bellow the level of his or her hips:

I figured out that what works for me is the opposite. Despite being 43 years of age, I am still rather flexible.  if I have my handle bars up to high, for some reason, it puts me at an angle that makes my SI joint pissed off. When I went for a ride today, i noticed the pain returning, so I lowered my bars back to their previous height. Presto, it was like magic; the pain subsided and me and my bike were back to dancing like Fred and Ginger!

I plan to ease back into my mileage and start to pile on the riding. I want to be fit and fast by spring,  Then it will be all about snapping necks and cashing checks! I will sign off for now. Be good to one another. Oh, and put some miles on your bike. If you don't own one, buy one!

 

Walk

A bike ride on a crisp fall day has a way of making thngs feel good.

A bike ride is such a cathartic experience, I find i spend a lot of time thinking about what is happening in my life. The difference is I don't get into the details, instead, I find myself looking at a thought or idea from an overall perspective. Today I found myself thinking about where i was going, in a lot of ways I feel like I've been born agian, not in a religous sense, rather in a sense of who I am at my core. A song by the Foo Fighters titled Walk has been in my head a lot thanks to my Ipod and I think it really somes up how I am feeling about now:
A million miles away
Your signal in the distance
To whom it may concern
I think I lost my way
Getting good at starting over
Every time that I return

I'm learning to walk again
I believe I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?
I'm learning to talk again
Can't you see I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?

Do you remember the days
We built these paper mountains
And sat and watched them burn
I think I found my place
Can't you feel it growing stronger
Little conquerors

I'm learning to walk again
I believe I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?
I'm learning to talk again
I believe I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?

Now
For the very first time
Don't you pay no mind
Set me free again
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsty.com/foo-fighters-walk-lyrics.html ]
To keep alive a moment at a time
But still inside a whisper to a riot
To sacrifice but knowing to survive
The first to climb another state of mind
I'm on my knees, I'm praying for a sign
Forever, whenever
I never wanna die
I never wanna die
I never wanna die
I'm on my knees
I never wanna die
I'm dancing on my grave
I'm running through the fire
Forever, whenever
I never wanna die
I never wanna leave
I never say goodbye
Forever, whenever, forever, whenever

I'm learning to walk again
I believe I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?
I'm learning to talk again
Can't you see I've waited long enough
Where do I begin?

I'm learning to walk again
I believe I've waited long enough
I'm learning to talk again
Can't you see I've waited long enough
Given my current situation I find a lot of solace in these words. I don't know what my future holds, and for the first time in a very long time, I am not particularly concerned by this. I want to enjoy each day for today and the adventures and experiences presented to me.If your feeling like me, then I know you can grasp what I'm saying, learning to walk again is kind of scary, but it is also very exciting.  "Where do I begin"  is on my mind, to start, I am working to restore my home. I mean this figuratively and literally.                                           

I decided white would be best in a small kitchen to give more light and make it feel not so small.
The master bed and bath also received some love. I repaired the damaged wall in the bath which in turn, got rid of the lingering "cat pee" smell. I found some "oops" paint at home depot for $7.00 and gave the walls in the bath and hall a new color. I like the sandstone, It complements the bedroom color well.

 So that is what I have been up to. Stay tuned as I take more baby steps in my road to recovery.  Peace and love my friends, peace and love............

Just call me Joe

I decided to title my first post by the name of my blog. I've spent the greater part of my life living by titles of various types: "Joe the swimmer" , "Joe the bad student",  "Joe the trouble maker", "Joe the bike racer", "Joe the husband", "Joe the Senior Chief". There are many more I could name but these illustrate my meaning. Haven't we all lived by our titles? They define us, say who we are, who we're not, and maybe worst of all, who we don't want to be.
Having just completed a twenty two year military career:

 I am just about done living by titles. I just want to live life for life's sake. Gone are the days I lived to please others. I must live in a new way.  I dare you to say I am being selfish. Lets cut to the chase, I triple dog dare you. I must first love myself, if I can do this then I can love my family and friends all the better.  I've weighed success and failure by what others have thought of me, thinking that was the way to be happy. The problem is this: trying to live up to others expectations, be they real or imagined, will always leave you wanting.  I've learned this simple fact: if you do what is in your heart, it will always measure up the the most important standard, your own!  This didn't come to me out of the blue, I've spent years beating my head against a wall.  I would do everything possible to make sure that others were pleased with me. I sought out approval, always left to feel I wasn't good enough. I had this feeling in my gut that I was faking everything I did and that any moment people would find me out, I would be done, ruined, and shamed.

As I said, I now live in a new way; I also said this self-realization didn't exactly come over night. About the time I returned from my deployment to Iraq I started to have problems, both, at home and at work. Having been in arguably one of the most dangerous places in the world at the time, everything started to feel wrong. I no longer liked my job, I thought it meaningless compared to the life and death situations I previously faced, there's nothing like seeing the vehicle directly ahead of you suddenly disappear in an explosion to make you realize there are truly important things, and conversely, things that don't mean much. Of course, this "ah-ha" moment arrives after you crap your pants and think you are going to die. You figure out quickly that in that moment nothing matters more than you and your buddies. To see them hurt or worse, dead, it is the worst feeling you can ever imagine. Back to my job that no longer seemed important, preparing PowerPoint presentations, attending three hour long staff meetings, listening to your boss drone on and on about "stupid shit...sorry, stuff" becomes a mind numbing experience. I figured out quickly that I would rather go back to war than do what I was now doing for another ten years to reach my thirty year retirement. About April of this year (2011) My house of cards came crashing down. I had a disagreement with my boss that went very badly. I was left in a homicidal/suicidal rage.  I was going to strangle the life out of this guy, then go suck start a 9 mm. Well, actually, I was going to go and drive my car as fast as I could into a telephone pole. Long story less long, I was "hospitalized" with clinical depression, severe anxiety, sleep disorder, all this was caused by what would become my constant, chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD. for months, after returning from yet another deployment, my wife kept telling me something wasn't right, I needed help, I did what any good sailor or soldier would do, I denied, denied, denied. Until I could no longer ignore the symptoms. My shrink told me PTSD was a normal reaction to an abnormal circumstance. Meaning:

When you are in a combat zone it's perfectly normal to believee every one wants to kill you and in general, does not have your best interests at heart. The problem is you can't just shut this off. Here in safe Jacksonville, FL, I get in my car and start driving down the road and I start to imagine, no, I see things, things that I know are going to hurt me. trash becomes an hidden Improvised Explosive Device (IED), the number one killer of soldiers in Iraq. So naturally, I swerve, drive onto the median, anything to avoid being blown up! I see people as my enemy, I'm paranoid, fidgety, and always looking for the exit. It's just a crappy way to be.
I mean, how can you go from this:

To This:

It just felt perverse. Which take me back to where I started, I felt like a fake, any moment, people would see me for who I really was. Only now I added something new to my bag of insecurity and invalidation, I thought of myself as a truly bad person. How could anyone who was in essence, a trained killer, be worthy of anyone's love?  Let alone my family's?  I went out of my way to try and earn love, never understanding that you don't earn it, either it's there or it's not.  Looking back in hindsight, my wife and I have always had a co-dependent and enmeshed relationship.  In defense of what is fair to my wife, I will only speak of my self since she is not here to speak for herself.  Anytime I felt my wife was unhappy in our relationship, I tried my best to find the solution and fix it.  If she didn't like our house because the kitchen was to old, I'd feel bad and have it gutted and a new one put in its place. What ever the problem, I always thought I could fix it. Problem is, either a person is happy or they're not! What ever was going on with my wife, then and now, is not because of me. She has to fix "it" herself. What ever "it" is. For my part, I have never established boundaries in my relationships so that I could create my own identity. I see now that this type of behavior is so unfair on so many levels. It doesn't allow either person to figure things out for themselves, it causes bitterness and eventually, if not solved, will lead to an end to a relationship. This is kind of where I am at now. My wife will soon be heading to her sister's, and with her, my son. It is what's best, at least for now. I need to learn how to love myself, to accept that though I may have done bad things, I am not a bad person. That I have worth, and no matter what, it can not be taken from me. I also need to work on my friend PTSD, I need to quiet the nightmares, lessen the symptoms and figure out a new way of being me. And I think I can, with the help of a wonderful group of people who are working as members of my treatment team, who always believe in me, even when I don't, who see my potential.

This takes me full circle, just call me Joe. Who ever I was in the past, that is no longer me. I now live my life for now, no longer do I look to far ahead. I will always remember my past, but it will not define me. Ralph Waldo Emerson said: " there is no history, only biography." Meaning history is made by the teller of the tale, not by the event itself. It is in effect, a distortion that grows like a ripple on a pond that grows as it gradually moves outward. This is my story. If you like it, then I am happy for you, if not, I am still happy for you. And remember: "just call me Joe."