Woooo, what a week! Thank God It's Friday! I think - actually I hope - I'm going fishing on Sunday, even if it's for a mere hour or two. It's late August here on the Gulf Coast of Florida, and the relentless rain and humidity are starting to wear on me. Nonetheless, I'm upbeat (glass-is-half-full kind of guy!). I'm a good first-mate. Never pulled together the bucks to launch my own Glastron or Glacier Bay or Sea Ray, et. al., but I've been fortunate to have friends who did. I try to pull my weight. I tie-off; I clean; I buy the beer; I do whatever the captain needs me to do. Basically, I'm just happy to be there; catching a little sea spray; dropping a line; catching some rays. My neighbor invited us to join them on Sunday morning for a little cruise, and I can't wait. I'm going to do a little fishing!
I own a small (very small) business, and this week was just one of those weeks. You know, pulled in ten different directions; trying to figure out how to drum up some business; battling the urge to throw in the towel (come on, you know you've wanted to throw in the towel once or twice the past couple years!). The "economy" has been brutal the past 18 months. I'm a so-called "marketing guy" and at times, I wonder whether I can even sell anyone on the idea that the sun actually rises in the east!
Made a presentation to my networking group this morning - bright and early at 7:30 - about ways to network more creatively. This, after hitting the pillow at 2:00 a.m., after attending a pre-season NFL game. Not what I would normally do on a Thursday night prior to having to give a presentation, but my daughter was - believe it or not - debuting as a real-life NFL cheerleader, for crying out loud! I'm a huge football fan, but honestly, I was there to see my kid. Period. Anyway, did my fatherly duty, loved every minute of it, and got to bed late - really late (for someone of my advanced age). By the way, this Shock Top stuff from Anheuser Busch/InBev is a great summer brew! When the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., I did what I always do: popped up, brewed some java, hit the shower and started my day (including reading the paper).
I don't know about y'all, but I'm sad for the newspaper industry. Not because I care about their ability to make a profit per se, but because of what I honestly believe is a genuine threat to the fabric of our society. I know many of you may not get it, but the "Fourth Estate" truly is one of the pillars of our society. I grew up in a small town of 12,000 people in rural Ohio, and for most of my formative years, we received no fewer than three newspapers in our home; two on weekdays, and a third on Sundays. I LOVE NEWSPAPERS, AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO ADMIT IT! My children, on the other hand, love texting; and tweeting; and getting their news from - gasp! - I'm not sure where they get their news! Irony of ironies, the news is now the news. Everyone is predicting the demise of newspapers. Folks, let me tell you: regardless of whether the death of newspapers is imminent, WE WILL ALL BE WORSE OFF IF IT COMES TO PASS!
So . . . my wonderful neighbors, the Larsons, invited me and my beautiful (and verrrrry tolerant) wife of 27 years to accompany them on their boat this Sunday. Like many of you, we've got stuff going on all the time, but Sunday mornings tend to be open (yes, we're probably going to hell because we no longer attend "services," but that's a topic for another blog!). The thing is, the invitation was extended during a neighborhood gathering last week after I had already fully enjoyed the fruits of fermentation. (Thankfully, my wife was the one to whom the invitation was communicated.)
Today, after a challenging week and an after-hours phone call from a client, I began to wish I was fishing. As luck would have it, my wife came home and reminded me that we were joining the Larsons for a little boat ride on Sunday (I had completely forgotten.). I immediately grabbed this morning's newspaper, checked the weather forecast and happily confirmed that Sunday's marine forecast looked encouraging. I'll go to sleep tonight, wishing I was fishing, AND saying a little prayer for the Kennedy family, because even though I resisted the urge to get into that subject here, I do believe an era has passed, and we, as a nation, are worse off as a result. (Coincidentally, I just watched "Bobby" on DVD for the first time, and I encourage all of you to do likewise, regardless of your political proclivities.) As always . . .
. . . Wish I Was Fishing
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Why, "Wish You Were Fishing?"
This is a brand new blog, and I'm a brand new blogger, so let's get the question about the name out of the way right up front. No, this isn't a blog about fishing - at least that's not the primary subject matter. I just happen to enjoy fishing, among other things (like cooking, and golfing, to name a couple). There are times when I'm doing something else - like working, for instance - that I wish I was fishing; or golfing; or sucking down a cold one while checking out the thong on the hottie strolling past on the beach. You catch my drift?
I've reached an age - as have gazillions of you fellow bloggers and surfers out there - when I'm beginning to take stock of my life, what I've learned and what I have or haven't accomplished. I think about stuff! Most days, I'm cool with where I am. Things could be better (of course "better" is a relative term based on one's perspective and objectives in life), but it could be a helluva lot worse too!
My point is, I believe there are a lot of people out there like me who are just trying to figure things out from one day to the next; who want nothing more than to do the right thing - and have fun doing it. Sometimes, though, figuring out what the right thing is, is the toughest part of all.
Anyway, I'm devoting this blog NOT to "average guy on the street" topics (I don't consider myself average, so I won't consider you average), but to topics that come to mind - often randomly - that I believe many of you think about too, but never talk about, even with your closest friends and family members. This is for us not-so-average people who may not have hit the big time (yet), and occasionally - if not often - find ourselves wishing we were fishing.
Like the other day . . .
. . . after hearing what had to be the 500th (if not 1,000th) story of the day (and it was only noon!) about healthcare reform and how town hall meetings all over the country were exploding with rancor - and in some cases, violence - I had to ask, "What the hell is wrong with people?" I love a good argument, or debate even (I'm half-Irish, for God's sake), but I've determined that there are no good arguments and debates any more. If you take a position on A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G these days, you're setting yourself up to be attacked - at best verbally, and at worst physically! And chances are, you won't even know the person, or persons, doing the attacking! Where's my girl, Aretha, when you need her! It's about R-E-S-P-E-C-T people!
What happened to respect? It's still in the dictionary so I know the word still exists. Like the dude in the oversized, obnoxious, gas guzzling Hummer yesterday who, while yapping on his iPhone (which I could barely make out through his almost-illegally-tinted windows) ran through a stop sign in my development and nearly took me out. When I honked my horn at him (you know, just to remind him he wasn't the only one on this public throughfare) the a-hole flipped ME off. Can you belive that? Just a teensy-weensy self-absorbed, I'd say. We all know this stuff happens every day. It's death by a thousand cuts, isn't it. I grew up in the Midwest and was taught to live by the golden rule, and that's how I've tried to raise my kids. It's times like the "Hummer-Boy Encounter" though, when my faith in humanity takes another hit. And that's when the thought came to me - "Man, I Wish I Was Fishing."
I've reached an age - as have gazillions of you fellow bloggers and surfers out there - when I'm beginning to take stock of my life, what I've learned and what I have or haven't accomplished. I think about stuff! Most days, I'm cool with where I am. Things could be better (of course "better" is a relative term based on one's perspective and objectives in life), but it could be a helluva lot worse too!
My point is, I believe there are a lot of people out there like me who are just trying to figure things out from one day to the next; who want nothing more than to do the right thing - and have fun doing it. Sometimes, though, figuring out what the right thing is, is the toughest part of all.
Anyway, I'm devoting this blog NOT to "average guy on the street" topics (I don't consider myself average, so I won't consider you average), but to topics that come to mind - often randomly - that I believe many of you think about too, but never talk about, even with your closest friends and family members. This is for us not-so-average people who may not have hit the big time (yet), and occasionally - if not often - find ourselves wishing we were fishing.
Like the other day . . .
. . . after hearing what had to be the 500th (if not 1,000th) story of the day (and it was only noon!) about healthcare reform and how town hall meetings all over the country were exploding with rancor - and in some cases, violence - I had to ask, "What the hell is wrong with people?" I love a good argument, or debate even (I'm half-Irish, for God's sake), but I've determined that there are no good arguments and debates any more. If you take a position on A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G these days, you're setting yourself up to be attacked - at best verbally, and at worst physically! And chances are, you won't even know the person, or persons, doing the attacking! Where's my girl, Aretha, when you need her! It's about R-E-S-P-E-C-T people!
What happened to respect? It's still in the dictionary so I know the word still exists. Like the dude in the oversized, obnoxious, gas guzzling Hummer yesterday who, while yapping on his iPhone (which I could barely make out through his almost-illegally-tinted windows) ran through a stop sign in my development and nearly took me out. When I honked my horn at him (you know, just to remind him he wasn't the only one on this public throughfare) the a-hole flipped ME off. Can you belive that? Just a teensy-weensy self-absorbed, I'd say. We all know this stuff happens every day. It's death by a thousand cuts, isn't it. I grew up in the Midwest and was taught to live by the golden rule, and that's how I've tried to raise my kids. It's times like the "Hummer-Boy Encounter" though, when my faith in humanity takes another hit. And that's when the thought came to me - "Man, I Wish I Was Fishing."
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