The musings of a madman...

  Wife Person™ has a best friend...      Well she has about four, but one in particular sits at the absolute top of the pot and that is the one she doesn't get to see as much as they might like due to physical distance. They only get to see each other in person about once or twice a year and it always involves an airline ride. They get to see each other this weekend, but I never keyed y'all in on what happened when Wife Person™ went to TN/AR to visit her back in the spring.      It was March, they'd planned the visit for months in advance. It was planned for a week/end that I would be otherwise untethered to anything other than my lawn mower... Me: "But who gon feed me and remind me to take care of the dogs?" Wife Person™: "You do most of the cooking, cleaning and dog-rearing already. The fuck!?" Me: "And no adult supervision?" Wife Person™: "You talked to your therapist on Tuesday, right?" Me: "Of course!" Wife Person™...

       What would you do if you were told you had 24 hours to live? Since my cardiac event that landed me in the hospital Summer 2018, I have been dealing with a minefield of doctor and specialists visits usually about every other month. Since the exact cause of my episode could never be pinned down, we keep an eye on everything from my blood pressure, to my asthma and even my kidneys. No stone gets left unturned and, when combined with my recent obsession with sobriety and my physique, shit works out pretty well on a month-to-month basis. Three weeks ago, I got a phone call… Me: “Hello.” Nurse: “Hi, this is your nurse from Dr Samuel’s office.” Me: “Okay” Nurse: “Dr Samuel is going on vacation next week and wants to get you in as soon as possible. You have 24 hours to give blood at the lab so he can review it before he leaves.” Did she say what I think she said!?   Me: “I have–… 24–… hours?” Nurse: “Yes” Me: “Well I guess I got no choice, lemme make some ...

       Not that anyone needed to know this, but I might have benefitted in my earlier days from some good dating advice.   One might say it was a small miracle that I escaped high school without my virginity. This story ain’t about that… Well, not directly.      See, I always have this thing where I am willing to expend a little effort to see people do well, even if that means they will do better than I am doing or have done.   With that in mind, I used the time I have had in the house over the past seven months helping men with the tools they might use to assist them in securing more and better women.      I hear you laughing, but these kids these days have it MADE.   They have the whole of the internet, cell phones – of which I did not have until age 21 – are standard now, and ON those phones cameras are unavoidable under nearly any stretch short of the kind you send a kid into a gas station countie...

(wait…  Joe Jackson isn’t dead yet?  Well damn, is he like a little bit sick or something?  Oh well, carrying on!)      I think you see where I am going with this one.  Previous winners would include the likes of Earl Woods and Richard Williams. While the days of whooping your kids asses in order for you to live off of their success are gone, there still exists a world where you can push them to continue to do something they may or may not actually want to do to the point of extreme success, for which you will yourself be rewarded with a share of.      F’rinstance, no one exactly knows whether or not a young Eldrick Woods actually wanted to play golf, but his father – an old-school Black man raised through Jim Crow – pushed his son to be good at what was and still kind of is a white man’s game.  It worked to the point where he was the best to do it for a very long time.      On that s...