It Was A Much Needed Break

Alright, it has been quite a long while since I blogged about anything, but that’s about to change. As to the why? Quite simply, I needed another recharging of the batteries…and I wanted to reflect on a few things of importance before I made some decisions. Some review of what I blog about and why—indeed, if I even wanted to continue doing so—was necessary as well.

In any case, there were some interesting occurrences around the world…just none I felt overwhelmingly compelled to blog about and interrupt my train of thought. I did write, however. Someone will be pleased to get a rather lengthy treatise on government from me shortly (and afterwards, it will be shared with a few other friends…perhaps posted here). I also spent some time researching and jotting down ideas for future writing and blogging.

Taking time off to just think without feeling the need to write those thoughts down allows me to think about 20,000,000,000,000,000,000 times faster—which can be both good and bad. It has always sat unwell with me that I can only type 50-55 words per minute, whereas I can think around 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 thoughts per minute (or near enough as makes no matter).

And then there was some work in there. Computers needed troubleshooting (one needed to be thrown in the highway in front of a semi, but alas, work is seldom so fun), and that kept me quite busy.

Reading To Write

I also took some time to read a few books. I felt as if I needed to immerse myself in some good writing in preparation for the upcoming annual NANOWRIMO (National Novel Writing Month) competition, which kicks off November 1st. I’m planning on making yet another attempt (6th time? I’m losing track…) at knocking out a 50,000 word novel in a month.

One of the books I read was Lucifer’s Hammer, written by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle—two masters of the science fiction genre. I have read it about a half dozen times now, but the last was a few years back and I thought it time to revisit it for various reasons. Not least among them are all the Sci-Fi and Discovery Channel specials about major disasters and the destruction of civilization which seem commonplace these days. Lucifer’s Hammer is a story about the Earth ending up in the path of a comet, published in 1977.

Yes, the story predates Bruce Willis’ razor stubble and was around long before Armageddon and Deep Impact—two movies with a not entirely dis-similar premise. Anyway, Lucifer’s Hammer is a novel worth reading if you like apocalyptic science fiction.

Two other things I did while on hiatus were to think about how to reorganize the blog now that tags have been added (or if I should even bother), and about whether or not to even continue this blog. I have been thinking it is time for a change, and perhaps some focus…only, as most of you know, I have way too many interests. So, unable to come to clear decisions on either, here I am, and you will notice there are no tags in use yet.

And In The Back Of My Mind…

Oh, and several friends and I got together for a marathon session of cards. We showed up about 10am and didn’t leave till after midnight, playing the longest Magic, The Gathering session I’ve ever done. Couple of the guys drove across the state to get there, and we had a lot of fun.

We were all thinking of how far back we go as friends and reminiscing about old times when I realized something…I’m the only one of my childhood friends that’s single. A few of my old army buddies are single…so many of us ended up divorced, but even most of them have remarried.

Just what I need to be thinking about. Not that it bothers me…much. I did catch an episode or two of Scott Baio Is 45 And Single, and that was a bit depressing (though I still have 7 years before I need worry about having any similar reality show about my life). Which is exactly why the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of heading overseas somewhere to find and wage small wars, and going out with dignity…or at least a bang.

To be honest, the thought of dying is not scary. Growing old, alone, that’s scary. But, eventually, after several disappointing relationships, that too begins to seem less worrisome. In just over a month, it will be a year since my last relationship ended. I haven’t been on a date since, nor even to a club or bar. I’ve pretty much come to three conclusions: (1) if there’s someone out there for me, she probably doesn’t live in America and (2) I’m not going to waste any time looking or worrying when there’s so much in life to be done, (3) I had almost forgotten how nice it is to be able to go hiking or camp under the stars and not have a woman complaining about amenities. Now, that’s not to say there aren’t women who actually love the wilds—just that I haven’t found any here in America that will love them if they are not within spitting distance of a hotel room (or they require so much gear that a campsite has to be within a few yards of a SUV).

Personality Quirk?

One other thing I thought about some—and resigned myself to—is the thought that there are some things we are simply unlikely to ever understand about ourselves. Since just before my 18th birthday (I was 17 when I enlisted in the US Army Reserve), fitness has been a way of life. I have ever since been doing just about anything and everything to stay in shape, and have done a good job of it.

I have done some crazy things to stay in shape over the years. On active duty in the Army, I woke early on Saturday mornings to go for 6 mile ruck runs with a 40lb. rucksack. I remember my buddies would be waiting for me in the parking lot when I got back, usually sitting on someone’s tailgate, and they would always have a beer and smokes waiting (I am a non-smoker these days). I used to run a mile in 5:09; two miles in 11 minutes was easy enough.

Since leaving the military, I used to use an old truck axle to do bent-over rows; I used to ride my mountain bike 11 miles a day just to work and back (never mind that I was also hitting the gym in the mornings and going for a run before work…and then school in the evenings). One former roommate and I would run a couple miles to a bar, have 3 pints on the patio, run another mile to Blockbuster to rent a movie and then run home. It was a nice way to quaff a few beers and not feel guilty about it I suppose. I enjoy running and biking in the rain occasionally; recently, a friend and I paddled down a river on giant inner-tubes with lounge chairs strapped on them (if you’ve never tried to paddle an inner-tube, much less in a straight line and when there is little or no current…it’s harder than you think).

So the point is this: I’m fitness minded and as a consequence of staying in shape, two or three times a year I hop on a scale to see what I weigh. Currently, at 6′1″ and 200 lbs I feel underweight. Never mind that while in the military the heaviest I weighed was 185 lbs. Which is what causes me consternation. The heaviest I have ever weighed was 203-205 right after dinner (I can eat like a horse, so it makes a difference)…just a couple years ago. Build-wise, I have small to medium bones and am long-limbed; if I were still in the Army, I would be just a few pounds under the maximum allowable weight for my height (205 for 28-39 age bracket, 200 for 21-27). [Granted, those are guidelines and you can be heavier so long as you make body-fat requirements.]

To use a football analogy, I suppose I’m built like a receiver—but part of me thinks I ought to add a few pounds. So, some of my time off was spent thinking about whether or not it was just a quirk of my personality that I should ignore, or whether or not I want to put the effort into a ’serious’ workout regimen. The truth is I don’t want to, as it takes too much time better spent on other, more enjoyable things.

I have been writing and recording some music for example…a half dozen songs in as many weeks. Not sure why or what it means, but Nick (former bandmate) and I are both getting an itch to play some music again.

Well, coyotes are howling out back (it’s after 4am) and I think I’ll grab a drink and listen to their music some and then head off to bed. Too much thinking can be just as bad as not enough, after all…