228 posts
Latest Posts by max39211 - Page 7
Prayers, por favor
BIG meeting for me this afternoon. I’m meeting with a team about publishing my novel series. I released the first one on Amazon without advertising and a novice cover (a photo I took on a trip to Italy). I’m totally unprepared (as I left all of my stuff at my home in Florida), but my biggest worry is that my father “forgets” to shower before the meeting! Ladies, PLEASE make sure you teach your children that two showers/baths a week does not mean CLEAN!
Back in the Day
“If you like school you’re a fool!”
My Sunday #golf blend.
I was proud of myself for putting on this tie at age 10 or 12. (This was back when I had a full head of hair.)
Two years after brain surgery for glioblastoma, I’m starting to feel like myself again. #blessed
I may get trolled for this, but I’m praying for you, Bieber (or whatever your real name is). There’s nothing wrong with walking through a dark place and looking back every now and later to figure out how you got there, how you got out, and how you can keep others from wallowing in theirs.
Me proving that I’m a nerd.
FTR
I don’t like dabbling in politics because, well, obviously, but FTR, I think Romney’s vote was the correct one.
This is my backyard shortly after Hurricane Michael. (This is after we’d cleaned it up a bit.) I won’t miss the hurricane, but I will miss the sunsets here. God bless, Florida.
Cupid’s arrow
I’m missing my grandfather this morning, so I’m watching “Sanford and Son.” That show and “The Jeffersons” (and any old western) were his favorite shows.
Walking in a dream-ish
Who won that game last night? I wore myself out after the super show. #sarcasm #deadpan #IDidNotFlushMyDreamsToiletPaper
I’m a big country kid who grew up in small cities. Living near the water has opened my eyes to how I think God experienced life, and looking up at the stars like this image (from NASA or ESA) helps open my eyes to that beauty. … Beauty and wonder for me was escaping my house and escaping into the woods. For my brother it was much the same. He went farther than I did. He always does.
Watching life go by
My thoughts written down as I continue watching... The first time I teared up watching the patriotic documentary was when you got the call from a nice lady who gave you bad news. (I won’t tell you how many times tears were shed after the call lest I be compared with John Boehner.) I did sing along, but I’m also taking my morning medicinal toke before breakfast, which may or may not be eggs, so my voice is weak. (I plan a gym visit later today after it cleans out.)And now I’m pausing the documentary because I want to take it all in and post my thoughts online like a good little millennial (even though I’m taller than most millennials and I’m actually Generation X. Can you tell that I’ve heard many a Baptist preacher – and have adapted their tendency to drone on and on and on?
I’m eager to let you experience the other side of it all, where it’s OK not to be perfect but neither of us has to like being imperfect. As a kid I would throw temper tantrums when I couldn’t get something just “perfect.” When the lines weren’t straight enough in the fictional Southern city I was drawing, I went to the office supply store and bought a ruler. Straight, clean lines are the best. To this day I prefer writing with pencils because you can erase it cleanly.
I insert my foot in my mouth even faster than my brother Peter could ever think about doing. It’s a gift and a curse. It helps, though, when you just see your previous words in the context of a new truth: cancer. The next time I teared up in the documentary was when I heard your mom has cancer. That’s a truth that hits me hard, too. I’m surviving it so far, but it makes me long to wander the wonders of life. Preferably with a few hippies and someone to love. Someone who doesn’t mind being the “good” one, since we all know I’m the bad kid. (My brother compares me to Macaulay Culkin in “The Good Son.” He’s one to talk! (Hello, pot. This is kettle. …) It's hard to turn the other cheek, especially when you know you’re in the right (or at least not in the wrong), but that’s what we have to remember to do. As Sheldon Cooper likes to remind us on perpetual reruns, haters gon’ hate. Players gon’ play. And the best woman will win every time.
***I’ll probably clean up most of my social media feeds today. I need to get more real instead of live in the clouds, and we all know that tweeting one’s stream-of-consciousness does not suit anyone. Ever. For myself, sometimes I like to put out my raw thoughts to test the waters. But the hit hurts every time. And for the record, boots hurt like hell.
Becoming Mr. Aces
Jan. 31, 2020
I awakened to a dreary, cold day in Florida. My phone was off (thank God!), although I didn’t realize that when I woke up from a fantasy and beat the passion out of myself. I took the flag outside since sunrise had passed and the country was in the middle of a crisis of conscience.
I pulled off my night clothes and stood stark naked staring at the phone, which, again, thank God it was off. The naughty side of me doesn’t ever see eye to eye with the “real” me, the one who won’t speak up until he’s suffocated.
I had been waiting for this day for a while. It was the day where the Senate would have to take a stand on a moral issue that had been plaguing America perhaps since its founding, when George Washington warned us about how political parties would be the end of us.
After fumbling through a few login screens, I settled into my blue chair with an Irish tea and Nestle creamer to watch a cute blonde woman pounding on her piano, some furry creatures watching her every move.
My furry creature was resting in the chair beside me.
It was now or never, I thought.
Now, the Spirit urged me. It’s time.
To Jam.
[FTR, this is my cat Libby. I sometimes like to put sunglasses on her to trick her out. Because that’s just what I do.]
Bravo to the ones who handle this better than I do
My crazy little brother looks exactly like this guy. I’m not able to say my brother’s real name without his permission, so I just call him Bob.
I call this place #MyBlueHeaven. It’s the place where I felt most in touch with #God. The nuns sang for dinner (literally) and there was a ski lodge up the road. Oh, and the “convenience” stores were convenient for getting your liquor via chocolate candies. (FTR, I preferred the Lake Como area.)
What do you do when your mother starts emailing you with acronyms you’ve never heard of? Thank God for the internet! (FTR [for the record], AAMOF means as of matter of fact.)
It’s 10 a.m. on a weekday and all I’ve managed to muster is a few tweets and a light workout (i.e., no weights) at the gym.
still trying to work my way back to lifting weights. The big tumor’s out, but #cancer takes the wind out of your sails. (The image in the middle is before surgery.)
I’m one of those people who communicates better this way than face-to-face. It’s not that I’m a cowardly lion; it’s that I’m a perfectionist, and some decisions are too big to rush. And then things happen in life that remind me of how short life is, and so I feel like I should leap to another circle. Old and reliable is the comfortable choice. There’s nothing more important than family, so choosing to create a new family seems like the one thing in life you never should rush. But, it’s good to let seamstresses know that the suit is nearly tailored.
#shadows RIP, Kobe