Movies have ruined my life; they taught me that people fall in love at the drop-of-a-hat (I should stop wearing hats).
Movies have ruined my life; they taught me that people fall in love at the drop-of-a-hat (I should stop wearing hats).
Much like men never like asking for directions, we also don’t like to do this - sheepishly, I peaked around the open hood and asked, “Do you have the owner’s manual?”
Truth be told, and we know if for a fact, rarely do we run into someone who truly has the Spirit of Christmas.
But, every now and again…
I’ve tried diets before, cut out fast food, maybe run a little, but I never really fundamentally changed the way I ate. This time I did. This time I ate – God forgive me - salads.
My nephew, Joe, who is in the Navy and stationed in San Diego (poor kid) called my sister and told her that he signed up to run the Avon (New Jersey) 5K in June and that she and Uncle Al (me) should run it as well.
There were always drugs around, however, most of my friends and I were big drinkers. Beers, Tequila, Jack Daniels – we basically drank like grumpy old men. In high school, I wasn’t much of a drinker (I have since made up for that).
At one point, after being asked for the umpteenth time if I was ‘OK’ I thought that at least if it looked like I was waiting for someone, I wouldn’t appear so suicidal. That’s when it hit me.
In the mid-eighties the company I worked for decided they wanted to keep their employees in tip-top condition. With that in mind they built a fitness center right in our building. There were treadmills and StairMasters and free-weights all designed to keep us from dropping dead at our desks. The only caveat was that in order to join the fitness center you had to be fit; each employee needed to pass a physical.
When this was first published it was pointed out to me that I had made a mistake. I attributed a memory to either the wrong person, or the wrong situation. Full disclosure, I didn't fix it.
Conflict and Scotch is also on the Huffington Post. Click on the title above to see archived posts...
It was a long way down from the top of that hill and you had to navigate through an army of spruce trees that tried their best to keep you from completing your run. I had seen many friends fly face first into the open arms of a waiting spruce only to appear on the other side with exposed skin scrapped raw and smelling like Christmas.
When I say dates, these were Groundhog’s Day dates where I repeated the same lines every night. The only difference was the audience of one to whom I delivered those lines.
There are things in life that we simply do not want to do. We avoid them, with full knowledge that one day there will be no getting out of the way. Well, one of those events happened this year, and I didn't see any way around it. This year I faced my past and embraced my fears.
I should have thanked Phil at that moment for taking me to see God (no, not Bruce, actually God). Our seats were so high up I think I caught a glimpse of him just above the METLIFE sign.
Every six months my doctor’s office insists on seeing me for blood work and general review (its annoying how they are trying to keep me alive). On my visit last year, I stepped on the scale and was shocked by how much weight I had gained (beer, scotch, and pizza is bad for you? Why am I always the last to know?).
My sister Diane was having a yard sale along with friends and family who showcased their items along her driveway and large front yard. Shortly after I arrived, my brother-in-law Jimmy called me over to show me something.
My brother Joe tells me that one day I’ll be that person they find weeks after their death because of the strange smell coming from the house. I assured him that would not happen. First of all, there are enough people that I interact with that would miss me if I suddenly disappeared.
Suddenly, a wave appeared and before I could turn and rush to the shoreline the ocean attacked. I found myself in a world of foam, pockets of air allowed me to breathe as I was tossed like a wet sock in a dryer. Head over heels I tumbled, my legs and arms scrapped by the crushed sea shells that covered the shoreline.
On my first day of vacation in Belmar, N.J., I unloaded my car and then headed up to the beach. I got to the boardwalk and decided to take a walk. Cars are parked all along the boardwalk and as I neared a silver van in a handicapped spot I noticed what appeared to be a hand-written note under the driver’s side windshield wiper.