Bearded Gang

I don’t title a lot of these until I’m done for the morning. Started a long blog yesterday and pushed it aside. It felt like a rant towards mass public behavior and man I don’t want to be that guy again.

Observe don’t absorb

I want to shake about 200,000,000 of you by your shoulders and point at one specific subject.

I’m a father of a 16 year old daughter. The minute she was an ultrasound picture my life became wrapped around her being. When she was just a bump I’d kiss my wife’s (fiancée at the time) belly and tell her I loved her. After her birth I cradled her and have yet to put her down.

My instincts were if it’s a boy I’ll raise him to be a shield for women if it’s a girl I’ll dedicate my life to being hers. I have 5 sisters also that I love with all my heart.

The second she was born the thought of burning the whole world down if someone harmed her burned in my head.

It’s instinct. It has never left me. Even when I pass away you can be assured I will still be there watching over her.

The things I would do to a person/people that ever tried to hurt my daughter..

This isn’t broadcasting. I fully aware of what I’m capable of doing.

After my daughter’s arrival I’ve become attached to the better being of all children. My fatherhood fully absorbed the innocence of children.

Fragility

Carefree

Loving

I witnessed first hand with my daughter. When I see other kids especially daughters, I smile at their innocence. I don’t even know them and I’m their protector. I would kill for your kids.

Without hesitation.

Who hurts a child? Who tortures a child for fun? Doesn’t even refer to them as children.

2300 children a day go missing in this country. 460,000 a year.

I had a shady looking man walk up behind me while I was putting my daughter into her car seat downtown about 15 years ago. I saw him well before he thought I did. I had a knife six inches from his throat before he got to my truck.

He left quickly.

Another sexual predator followed my wife and child around Publix. It was obvious enough that my wife had to find a male manager. We found him online. He was registered. I found him pumping gas solo at a gas station across the street from my home and we had a conversation.

Those are the only two people whose life I have physically threatened. Both have the same connection. I thought my daughter’s (and wife) safety was in jeopardy.

I’m in better control of my emotions now. Don’t mistake that as a weakness.

I’ve read often that you inherit trauma from your parents. Three generations of fathers in two world wars in my blood. I’m a very high strung individual. Even sober. Drinking I was a fucking maniac.

I haven’t read one excerpt from the “files”. I’m not sure I will. The amount of hellish debauchery and torture I’ve heard isn’t good for my mental health. I used to watch Faces of Death while eating popcorn. It wouldn’t phase me.

I see everyone saying “they’ll all get away with it”

“They’re untouchable”

“They control everything”

All I can think about when I hear about it is “what if it was your child?”

A young girl prayed to Jesus while she was raped and tortured. They used that as fodder.

Once I read about that I had to put my phone down for the day.

Observe don’t absorb was thrown out of the window.

All I see is my daughter’s face when I hear these.

I can feel my teeth grinding.

Peter Frampton “Do You Feel Like I do” is playing in my ears right now.

Good capture

Pause

There should only be one subject matter in our lives right now. It blows my mind how many of you will still jump on Facebook and bitch about the division tactics thrown at you.

You’re ignorant. If this hurts your feelings I’ve got two more words for you.

Your punching two separate balls in the sack attached to the same dick

You call out people for being sheep? You’re on the same farm guys and gals.

There’s no jail good enough for this folks.

And guess what “patriots”? I use that term loosely.

It’s all coming from our own country.

I’m not a Trump lover and I was raised a conservative. I don’t go online bitching about him either I don’t like to partake in the online noise. I don’t post politics.

This isn’t political.

This is global responsibility of wiping the earth clean of this evil.

Because that is exactly what it is.

You were told “we are going to release the files”

Then you were told “there are no files”

Then the no files get released and you’re told “ok now it’s time to move on”

All

By

The

Same

Person

And you still wave his fucking flag from your house.

Fucking hypocrites.

And I’m a conservative. Hell no I’m not. Scratch that. I’m a father, a husband and a human with a conscience.

Don’t ever put me in a political category again. I don’t want to be either one of you. Cut the puppet strings.

You line the streets for political reasons.

Homes aren’t hard to find. Eventually the police who also have children of their own will lose interest in protecting shit bags.

Man I’m not observing very well right now.

All you gravy rangers? Now’s your time to shine I suppose if you can get over the brown people taking all your jobs. If you’re still talking about colors just stay away from me. My respect doesn’t have the slightest care for you right now.

I may not post this one. I ranted against my good faith. I needed to

Meh fuck it. I’m letting it out.

“Do you feel like I do?”

6:39am

I move slow on Mondays. It’s my last day off before resuming deli work for the week. I deliberately slow things down a few notches. It’s my day of stillness and rest. I’m shaking it up a bit to go hiking. I haven’t been outdoors in a while and it’s starting to get to me. I don’t mean going for a walk or run, or sitting under a tree although those are some solid options.

I need sweat, uphill cadence, sun on my face and a fat hilltop to gaze over the landscape.

I gotta free range for a few hours. That’s my intention. Table Rock has a new trail for me to hike. November was the last time I laced my shoes to walk up a mountain. Every weekend for the past three months I’ve either had a big order on my day off, snow, sleet, rain or I was moving and packing. My mental health is fine and that’s quite the accomplishment because it wasn’t so long ago I’d be climbing the walls to get outside.

I’m good y’all. Just trying to get some sun on my face and mud on my shoes.

I gave myself 30 minutes to write this morning. Soon it’ll be the gym, yoga and straight to the mountains. I am beside myself with folly. I write with my phone. Some days my fingers can dance all over this keyboard and I can type like a madman. Other days my thumbs go dumb and I’m backspacing like drunk Chad trying to express himself on a Facebook post. This is one of those days.

My thumbs are off by a millimeter. Or if you go by the standard American measurement, they’re off by a mule hair.

In another two weeks or so I can resume my outdoor activities with my camper. Hopefully, maybe three.

Spent my Sunday hanging some art and frames all over our new home with one of my favorite people. The walls are finally coming alive and the home is settling. My feathers stayed slightly ruffled for the first two weeks as we acclimated into our nesting phase. If there is one box sitting out that doesn’t belong I stare at it until I make it go away. Moving it out of my site does absolutely nothing because I will get up and stare at it. If I put it in a closet it will speak like a Shakespearean raven into my head until I reckon with it.

Nevermore

Nevermore

Nevermore

Just unpack the box Chad and go about your day. Well I finally did yesterday. Well except for one. I still have a 100 lb dresser that has to climb some stairs.

The plus side are my walls are 3D now with still life.

8 more minutes

Bought a new stand for my tv to stand on. I’m curious if tv legs could bend would we have the options for TV sits? It was a Costco buy I’ve been sitting on my annual Costco check for about 10 months now. Used it to purchase a 75 inch stand and rolled it out. I’m mentioning the length of the box because it’s relevant to my next side story.

My truck bed is 73.7 inches long. Box was just a tad too long. No problem Chad you can just leave the tailgate down. Yeah I could’ve before last week before I purchased a ridiculously big and heavy tire hitch swing for my spare tire. It’s a Rig’d hitch swing. Big and fancy. I bought it used as I do most things that I consider way overpriced. I love it. Carries my 5th 33in Yokohama billabong bouncer all radial reed monster truck national champion off-roaders.

I don’t know shit about tires yall. All I know is they handle well in the mud and they destroyed my mpgs.

Comes with a fancy fold down table and a cutting board.

And a gas can.

Probably around 80lbs dry. and it’s bolted tight.

Can’t drive with my tailgate down. Tried to force it you know cardboard is can bend and shit. Closed my tailgate and it goes “nope” and pops off my truck. Right in front of a dozen Costco people that I most likely bumped with my cart for being slow.

Didn’t know tailgates could do that. Yeah I did but wasn’t expecting it to happen at Costco in the pouring rain. A Good Samaritan helped me shove a 90 pack of paper towels under the box so I could hover it over my disheveled tailgate that held on like a loose tooth until we got home. I enjoyed a nice 55° shower as I finagled my tailgate back into submission. All of this for a rectangular box for my tv to sit on top of.

Welp I went 3 minutes over. Time to climb a mountain.

Peace.

Our reality is based on certainty.

Certainty comes from our grasp of evidence and information we’ve accumulated over our lifetime.

Throw a ball up in the air it comes right back down. No matter how hard you or anyone else throws it

It comes back down

If you drive a car across the country without putting any gas in it you’ll end up breaking down on the side of the road.

It is certain.

Sometimes you are certain due to past experiences, evidence and subjective environments. “I am certain it will be hot if we go to that festival in Charleston next August.”

One thing is for certain. We don’t like when our certainty is being questioned. We don’t like questioning our own certainty.

There’s a large, LARGE mass of us questioning it right now.

The people we were certain had the capacity of helping us

Our heroes

Our past ones too

Our history

Our religion or our faith in our beliefs.

Our country being the beneficiary of that foam hand with the big finger exclaiming number one status.

Jesus

God

Heaven and Hell

You can Google the two types of certainty I’m not a scholar by any means. I write what I feel is certain and then I’ll research what may not be. If I’m not certain how to interpret my own thoughts and words I’ll look it up so I don’t fuck it up. Even if I’m almost certain. I certainly don’t want to get caught with my pants down.

Anyway here we go

Epistemic certainty – relies on solid evidence and rationality. Beliefs are considered true and indisputable. Gravity, death and taxes.

Certitude – subjective certainty. A conviction of being or feeling right. Your beliefs cause by cognitive biases and confirmation bias.

Religion falls under this category as does some political ideology for a lot of you. Parental upbringing, environment.

We get reeeeeal uncomfortable when something we’ve been certain about our whole lives becomes the uncertainty.

Easy going certainty – “ah it’s raining, this little umbrella should keep me dry.”

*opens umbrella and then wind blows it inside out. Fabric tears

“I was certain if I brought my umbrella with me I’d stay dry!”

Big time certainty – “if that storm comes I’m certain my roof over my home will be fine.”

*tree falls on house, wind blows roof off of your home.

Most of us have been carrying around that same umbrella, hugging the awnings, walking under balconies as we walk hoping we don’t have to use that umbrella we used to be certain would keep us dry.

Now many of us are entering the roof phase.

A big storm is on the horizon. Possibly the biggest we’ve ever experienced.

You’re about to have a lifetime of certainty ripped out of your hands.

Or

The storm may just fly right over your heads.

A few of you won’t even see the clouds. It’s not that you’re ignorant. Your self certainty may keep you dry until the roof falls on your head over time. We don’t like our certainties challenged.

Don’t let your certainties limit you. That’s exactly what the plan has always been.

If they’ve been stripped away don’t lose your ever loving mind and burn the earth down.

That’s what they want to. Fodder from your emotions.

Real soon

We are all going to question our certainties.

Religion is going to be the hardest for a lot of you. Probably the biggest. What you’ve been told and taught may not resonate the same way. I’m not here to tell you what is true or false. My certainties on this subject is just like yours. Certitude.

Subjective.

Some of you are in for a big surprise. I won’t go further into this discussion. It’s impossible to question another’s belief system without them getting uptight. My customer base is smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt.

I need customers.

Government umbrella? Well if you are the type of person that the government is here to help us well then boy howdy you’re gonna have a hard time with that one.

Seek shelter quickly. Also for the love of god stop the adulation of politicians. Any of them.

Your certainty for healthcare and medicine

Certainty of the food you eat. Even the “organic” brands are poisoning you.

If you’re plugged into this machine you have to raise your eyebrow and notice a shitload of pimples are coming to a head at one time.

A perfect storm.

No I’m not spouting revelations. Turn that knob down for a bit it’s been blaring in your ears your whole life.

Side note: what would you do if revelations had already happened years and years ago?

I don’t discuss religion much. We’ve all been taught to take what has been taught as a certainty or its eternal damnation.

Certainty by scare tactics.

Just like the government teaches us about the “evil empires” of Russia, China and Iran.

Can’t root for the good guy without inserting the bad guy.

Thank god we’ve had Sylvester Stallone beating their asses during the Cold War we created.

Man I sure miss shoving my body under my desk as a kid to practice for nuclear wars. Let’s scare the shit out of little Timmy before recess. I used to watch planes fly over my home as a kid and I’d wonder if it was a Russian missile. I was certain that we were all going to die in a nuclear holocaust. Hell they even made a movie about it and wait, WAIT! Then they made us watch it in school.. I can still see the person getting fried to dust while standing by the link fence. 40 years later.

Hey it worked!

We are certain about how we feel about countries we’ve never stepped foot on. By who we are certain we can trust

It’s crumbling down now.

London fucking bridges folks

Time to recalibrate your certainties.

The system is shit. Always has been. You’ve been taught and trained to swim in it. Keep close to the sides so you don’t get flushed down the drain with your uncertainties.

The world is in salt shaker mode.

“Are we all going to die Chad?”

We are energy. Energy doesn’t die. Once you make that a certainty your reality changes focus a bit.

I’m not here to question your certainties. It’s not my job or place. All I’m saying is let go a little. Don’t absorb all the stress that’s deliberately being thrown at you.

Observe

Don’t

Absorb

Stop yelling at each other. We all need to observe and pay attention. No that doesn’t mean you can’t rage from time to time just don’t rage on your neighbors.

It’s fodder for the ones we need to starve out.

I’m not a prophet. I’d laugh at that. I’ve had this intuition my entire life that I would witness something big. Couldn’t tell you what, where, who or when? Just that feeling in your gut, a fly buzzing in my brain that I would experience something very profound. 2024 my intuition told me that 2025 my life would change. And indeed it did sitting in my tent on an island.

And then it poked my head and said “2026”

And that was it

Me- “2026 what?”

*crickets

Me now in 2026- “oh. Ok. So this may be it? Or the beginning?”

*very slight nod

Am I certain? I think I may throw that word out for a bit. Maybe you should too if you don’t like surprises. I’ve started questioning too many certainties of late.

As I should have all along.

Set your alarms to new times yall. Wake up.

What does that mean Chad?

I’m not certain.

Stop yelling at your friends and neighbors. The noise is distracting you.

That I am certain

Peace ☮️

I’m not sure if I could keep up with the days of the week if it weren’t for my work schedule. My mind hasn’t reset into auto calendar since the holidays. Snow days might’ve thrown me off and moving across town has messed my loops so I’m not doing the regular daily routine I’m used to. Also I joined the Y this week after a 30 year hiatus.

I’m off kilter, I’m out of my comfort zone. This is exactly what I wanted to do. I can already feel my daily thoughts redirecting into a new radio wave. I’m tuning into it deliberately.

My mind pinged when I rejoined the Y. This is my intuitional signal that I took the right path. I love it when I hit a bullseye. I took around a year off from the gym, from the focus of grinding physically and focused on my inner muscle. That sounded weird.. I did home workouts for the time being. Light weights, ropes and calisthenics. I didn’t get soft I only maintained. I did shrink a little. I don’t like bulky. I like fluid motion. At 54 I’m not trying to squat 350 lbs. I’m doing deep knee stretches and hip flexes.

Lack of mobility kills you faster than noodle arms.

My wife says I have gorilla arms. Not because of their diameter but because my arms can reach limbs from afar.

I was hoping the move would jolt my mind and routines and I’m taking advantage of it. Relocating is a good way to start over on some old ways that have stuck to you over time. Little things become big things if you overlook them. That tiny little hole in your roof doesn’t repair itself.

If you let something drip for too long you’ll eventually need to carry around a bucket.

I drive by the Y on the way to work and back. Two opportunities to change my daily routines and I take advantage of it. New faces, new equipment, new energy. New hood to walk and I can do sprints once again.

I fucking love sprints. Even at 54 I can push off fairly well. You don’t want a hamstring pull when you got a hog chasing you in the woods. Sounds funny as hell until you’ve run into one of these brutes while hiking. Everyone thinks about bears. A hog will fuck you up. Big cats will too. “There aren’t any big cats in SC” I almost hit one on my way home from Baltimore 20 years ago. Jumped in front of my truck in Gaffney on I-85 around 11pm.

“That was probably a deer Chad”

Deers dont have long tails. I’ve also seen a cub in that same area although it may have been a bobcat.

Pspspspspspsp

Random, I always wear a ball cap backwards when hiking the Rockies to deter mountain lions from jumping me from behind. Bears are the last thing on my mind out there.

Always carry if you’re a solo hiker

Where was I?

I mentioned recently I don’t write about work as much. I pulled a work muscle during the holidays. Another reason why I focus on the art of slowing down. I’m reeeealll close to throwing charcuterie out the window. I go through these phases a few times a year. Probably because I haven’t been outside for more than an hour since November.

Moving and inclement weather has kept me busy.

I’ll look at some of my pictures of trips in the spring and I can smell the wind. I’m ready for that smell again. Every state has its own distinct odor.

I was trying for some new music this morning but John Prine calls today.

“I’ve been down this road before
Alone as I can be
Careful not to let my past
Go sneaking up on me
Got no future in my happiness
Though regrets are very few
Sometimes a little tenderness
Was the best that I could do”

Prine was/is the best.

I reckon I’ve got about three more weeks before I can go camping again. Heading to Utah in April again with my bud (again). Looking forward to it greatly. Still gotta find a place for him to sleep.

Tetons post summer. I’ve never had a place scream at me so loudly before. Long drive buddy you gotta give me time. Crested Butte won’t leave me alone either.

If I could measure our move in progress I’d say we are three quarters of the way settled. Not sure when in our evolution it became important to hang a bunch of shit on our dwelling walls but it’s the last step. A bunch of still life pics of us doing activities in exotic places.

2D representations of family members smiling.

Random art projects of friends and purchases.

I don’t like puncturing holes with nails and screws. I can hear the house screaming.

I’m joking

Those wall hanger tape things are complete shit. Itll randomly say “fuck it” and fall off your walls at any given time. You’re sitting at home watching The Price is Right and your hanging pic of deceased Aunt Edna drops dead on the floor.

Again

Sorry that was dark. I don’t have an aunt Edna nor do I have any aunts hanging anywhere in my house.

Think this is a good time as any to wrap this up for the day.

Peace.

Journaling is my growth.

It’s my release.

I looked back to some of my very first posts this morning I reread some to see my progress in writing and also my mental health. Both are improving thank you. I wince at some of my journaling, I’m my biggest critic and supporter.

Watching my voice change over time

My style

Most importantly my story.

Two years of writing I’m not sure how many posts I’m not going back to count but I’ve written at least 150,000 words. That’s about a quarter of War and Peace.

I write to hone my skills and I write to release my thoughts.

Growth.

Each word you write down is a release. It’s a release of expression, pressure and emotion. You don’t even have to post it publicly. I do. It takes guts folks. I don’t post on here for TMI recognition I post because I know my feelings and expressions are shared with many others. Sometimes you might relate to what I’m going through and think

“I’m not alone after all”

That’s why I share them. And to hold myself accountable for what I say. Somedays I think I’m wasting my time when I do but I still post them up for myself. The past week I had three different people I ran into tell me that they enjoy reading these.

That’s all I needed.

Yeah I do it for me but as I mentioned earlier I try to remind that we are all relatable whether you like someone or not we all share the same struggles.

I began journaling on here in March of 2023. Almost two years under my belt. My vocabulary has grown I find myself using words in conversations and in my head I’m “where the hell did that word come from?” Sometimes I’ll even use it correctly..

I got to know myself better after I started writing. I’m notating your inner dialogue. Sometimes I’ll jot something down and stare at it.

“Why did you choose to say that?”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Is this feeling unnecessary now?”

“This emotion is no longer apart of you”

“Let it go”

I’ve let go quite a bit. Trauma, bitterness, anxiety I could go on. I read some of my first entries and I’m experiencing an older version of me. I don’t talk the same way. I don’t think the same way.

I keep writing. Everyday.

It’s my devotion.

Devotion to a better me.

Everyday

Like Bradley Cooper in Burnt shucking his oysters until he’s paid his dues.

Devotion

It’s changed me and it’s meant to because my trail markers tell me so.

My writing sometimes exposes my trail markers. I ended my 4 years of reckoning because my writing told me to. Literally wrote it on the page for me “Your reckoning is over” I cried for ten minutes when I wrote that.

Writing releases

I’ll go back to that insert regularly when I’m struggling with my old self to remind me that I have nothing else to prove to him.

The demolition is over.

Time to frame a new you.

I couldn’t have done it without the assistance of journaling.

Most of my writing material comes from my meditations. Or when I’m driving up to some mountain holler but I’ve been grounded the last few months. Something will stroll into my mind and I’ll make a little phone note of it. I’ve got quite a few to catch up on some stories are harder to mold than others. Somethings I begin to write are emotional reactions and I burn out once the feeling subsides. I’d like to think it’s the writing that diffuses my bombs.

I’m reprogramming the words I think and say.

Deliberately

I worked in kitchens most of my career the words that sometimes come out of my mouth can be a little crassy. It doesn’t take much abrupt emotion for those words to sing like an angry hummingbird.

If I think before I write the words I say then my mind begins to follow suit.

I can feel the words writing in my head before I say them now. Or at least I’m getting better at it. It’s quite the gem for me. Also it allows me to express myself better. I’m a man of few words if profanity is removed.

I’m working on it.

Some mornings if I actually reread what I wrote I’ll smile and think “man that felt good to let go”

I used to concern myself with my grammar. I let that go months ago. My words are grammatically incorrect. It’s how I speak.

I may not write out “I ain’t got no”

instead of

“I don’t have any”

most of the time but I’m sure as hell thinking it. Thanks for that one Piedmont.

When you write things down you’re creating a visual representation of what you’re thinking

How you’re feeling

A story board of your thoughts.

After you write, stop and look at what you jotted down. Read it aloud like someone else wrote it.

Standing over yourself.

Like a teacher that looks over your shoulder checking your work.

Once you observe how you think you begin to understand that other person that talks to you all the time.

The one that’s scared

The one that doubts

Hesitates

Backs down or away

I lost most of my confidence when I parted ways with my old company. I found it again through writing. This from a guy who never takes notes because he didn’t like to write. Trail marker slapped me in the face to wake that guy up.

Mandolin Rain is in my ears. Highly recommend for a headphones vibe

Bruce Hornsby. Shares my mother’s maiden name.

Writing slows me down. It makes me sit and pay attention something 12 years of rotating teachers were unable to do. I have the low grade report cards to prove it.

Actually I don’t.

Parents don’t save report cards wallpapered with C’s.

Glad my child doesn’t have to deal with that. She’s a smart one. She’s what I wanted to be scholastically. Baton flipped over my head on that exchange.

I’m not embarrassed by my school grades by any means. I was never a C person just the student part. Can’t recall the last person standing in my business asking what my state test scores were while they picked up a charcuterie board.

As I write my work mind is twiddling it’s thumbs – “hey let’s halt the journaling bucko you have a new menu that you’re rolling out today.

Fuck

Fine

Peace and elbows yall.

I wrote a little yesterday but never completed the assignment. Daughter wanted our weekly breakfast yesterday and then a series of side quests caused me to go about my day. I’ve got about 100 drafts in my journaling that may never see the printing press. What’s on my mind one morning may not be writable the next. Often times my mood resets into something completely different and I’m unable to continue whatever I was thinking about the day before.

My thoughts be fleeting

Fleeting on tiny little feet

I had to report to Easley yesterday to have an accessory added to my truck along with a spare tire. A lot of my late childhood revolved around this area and as I was navigating to the traffic on 123 I decided to detour toward Powdersville and then my old stomping ground Piedmont.

I took the backroads off of 81 and puttered around the frontages of roads until I crossed over onto River Rd. My bus route took me along these back roads in middle and half my high school years until my friends were old enough to drive.

Detoured around the old Bentwood neighborhood where I had a handful of friends who lived sporadically along the curvy streets and cul de sacs. Slowed briefly around an old house a group of us used to party in our late teens owned by an older lady that sort of took us in. Sort of. As an adult I often look back at that house and wonder what exactly the fuck we were all doing there. 15-20 recent high school grads getting blasted on Long Island Ice teas and Michelobs.

It was weird man. Fun! But weird..

Drove by a few old houses of friends who are no longer friends and others who whose childhood homes were sold after their parents passed. At this age it’s quite a few. Some neighborhoods looked frozen in time while others looked almost post apocalypse.

Pulled over by the river and reminisced about fishing for carp and catfish with my cousins. Drove to my old step grandparent’s home by the old mill on Archie St. The streets seemed to have gotten narrower, I barely squeezed by a termite truck that was hugging the opposite curb. Flood of memories as I stopped at the steep porch of Ines and Frank, my stepfathers parent’s house for as far back as I can remember. The neighboring home housed many of the siblings of that family. I spent every summer and Christmas on that porch. Spent several weeks sleeping in the mudroom next to washer and dryer. The dining room was filled with a long rectangular table that always had food sitting on it and what seemed to be a passel of company sitting around the kitchen at all hours. The home always had full, warm energy up until Frank, the patriarch of the family became ill with lung cancer. It became a hospital room for a while then until he passed.

I liked Frank. Frank liked me too he was the only grandfather figure I ever had. He was always gentle to me, he was a large man. Would take me to the local hardware store with him and give me a dollar to buy candy . One day we drove to Columbia in his C-J 5 in the sleet and snow. Jeep had very little heat so he placed a wool blanket over my lap to stay warm. I was cold as hell but like I said I liked Frank.

And he liked me.

Frank’s funeral was the first I’d ever cried at.

Drove around the “downtown” area where I’d take my mom for lunch at the local meat and three and it was beyond closed. Awning ripped away from the frame, dull chipped brick and broken windows. My mom always got turkey and dressing, dinner roll and cobbler. It was the only time she could enjoy that type of meal she was always the one hosting the turkey day dinners. Anytime she would cook a big meal for all the family she’d stand by the kitchen table fanning herself off. We went a decade without HVAC in our old home. The table would be set, everyone said Grace and the family ate while my mom stood by the window cooling off. “Im not hungry right after I cook” she always said. She’d get upset if we tried to wait on her to sit down. I always waited. I ate many a cold meals with my mom.

Drove all along the main rd of highway 86 where I lived for 11 years. The old used car lot where I bought my first car, old Pete Beasley’s house where he always sat on the porch and waved. Mrs. Ayer’s the old maid who worked for the high school. Her tiny car would putter by our home at 25mph after school everyday. Slow enough to see her expression as she drove by.

That car never saw the speed limit.

I had a thought of walking along 86 for a bit with a cold Pepsi and junior mints like my momma and I used to do during the summers to Hazzards gas station. I’d play pinball and Galaga there when they had a game room. Piedmont didn’t have much for entertainment in those days. Still doesn’t.

Hazzards is a Starbucks now. Piedmont has a Starbucks? What in the fuck?

My childhood home is gone. I almost drove by the plot without seeing it. My memories of that home are just that now. I had a mix of jolly and folly. I felt a lot of love in that home just not so much the town surrounding it.

It’s nothing personal but it sort of is.

The focus of structure of that old town stops about a half mile down off of exit 35. Downtown has the Saluda Grill as an oasis of rebuilding of a semi historic area but it seems to have stopped in its tracks. I can recall several people reaching out to me to help awaken the downtown area with a business and I just couldn’t see it unfolding. I could be wrong but it seems to be growing on the wrong side of town.

I pulled into the QT by the exit and sat in the lot for a minute.

“I think that’s it Chad.”

There’s nothing here to come back to anymore.

Not sure why I felt the need to drive around the “town” yesterday. I literally veered off of 153 before 85 and thought “let’s go sight seeing”

Maybe I needed to close some old emotional loops and connections and I think I did. This isn’t implying I’ll never drive to Piedmont again.

It just won’t be deliberately if that makes sense. Each street I drove down I closed a gate and locked it. Each memory that phased through my mind grew some wings and fluttered away.

A release of sorts. A mental and physical trail marker steering.

It felt good. Something in my mind collapsed in a good way.

A pinging

Writing this down sealed it. This is why I write.

To release

Job well done sir.

Carry on.

I suffer from speed. No I don’t take amphetamines I barely know how to spell them. Sure I drink a cup or two more coffee than most but I rarely consume caffeine after 9am unless I’m driving long distance and that’s a terrible combination to be honest.

I’ve harped on here dozens of times about my struggle to slooooooow down.

Walk slower

Drive slower

Work slower

Pace slower

Sleep slower (I know that sounds ridiculous it’s my post I can say shit like this)

Write slower. I’m always trying to complete this task in one sitting. This will not be one of those. I have 40 minutes this morning

Life slower. I guess it all comes down to this. I’m not trying to slow down time I’m only wanting to observe it more.

I know when I’m rushing around. My jaw is clenched, my breathing is quick and shallow, I sigh a lot. I’ve gotten very aware of my sighs lately. I could blow a ship with masts across the ocean with them. Sighing isn’t bad, you’re trying to regulate your breathing which regulates your nervous system. My nervous system has been my new project in the last year.

I refer to my nervous system as my human transmission. My mind/brain is the engine. It’s the torque that produces emotions, decisions and impulses. My eyes are the windshield, my ears help with balancing my breath is the regulator.

Also I don’t know shit about cars.

Your nervous system/transmission decides how much torque/force gets delivered. How quickly it’s delivered, when to speed up, coast, pause or park.

Regulates your reaction speed, stress response, sensory integration and muscle activation.

With intention and action it becomes the mediator.

Shifting into park is your sleep mode, deep shutdown

Neutral is meditation, dissociation or observation. This is my still mode. No music, no tv or phone. I like being in neutral first thing in the morning after I’ve been in park all night. Engine is idling, body is humming.

You put yourself in drive and you’re moving in forward motion, guided speed, efficient and stable. You’re in your tolerance zone. You’re cruising to the speed limit, singing along to the radio, traffic is going your way. Parasympathetic AF.

How you accelerate describes how you operate within your fight or flight environment.

If you’re stressed your speed is going to increase and decrease constantly. You aren’t idling at 2000 rpm, you may be going to from start to stop repeatedly, you’ve got one foot on the brake and one on the gas. Sometimes you’re in gridlock but you find yourself revving in neutral. Highways if you don’t maintain a high level of rpms cars will zoom by you, tailgate you, blow their horns at you all while you’re trying to maintain safe speeds. You’re accelerating to keep up with everyone else on the road. Sometimes you’re pulling more weight behind you causing strain on your transmission. On those uphill grinds your rpm’s shoot up to almost 6000 just to get over the hill.

I’m not a car guy but I know what the parts do. Sorta

I got rid of my camping trailer because of the stress it was putting on my transmission on roadtrips. I loved that trailer.

But

My truck’s transmission is more important.

Same goes for a lot of my lifestyle choices. My nervous system is also important. For years I went from park to overdrive. 30 years plus. Accelerating rapidly and slamming on the brakes angrily when others were in my way. I’m always in a hurry to get nowhere. The taller the hill the more gas I gave it. Even downhills, my foot was on the gas there was no coasting in my vibe.

Automatic

The past year I’ve changed my car/attitude. I went to manual. I shift my gears methodically. I like how first gear allows me to stay at one speed until I choose to shift up. If I’m going to fast I can downshift, slow and deliberate.

If I’m sitting still I can pop it in neutral. Let my motor idle within its capacity. Granny gear for those slow mornings when I want to see what’s around me while I acclimate. My first jeep had one. You’d just let the clutch out and let the gear move you forward. No acceleration it wouldn’t allow you to go over 6mph in that gear. Thats the first hour of my morning now. It’s also my gear when I get home from work. I use my overdrive only for high volume days. If I’m off work I don’t get on the highway. I coast on the backroads after everyone is at work. I barely get her out of third gear. Windows are down, tunes are playing Don’t Stop Believing through my speakers.

“Her” being my fascia.

My nervous system. My central transmission system..

I only rev when I have to. When it’s completely necessary.

Im pursuing cruise control at all times. Im on my own highway.

This is my constant focus at the moment. Slowing down. When I slow down I heal, I reflect and rest.

My focus skyrockets

I’m not distracted or stressed.

I like cruise control. And it likes me.

If there’s one grief I have with my business it’s that it puts stress on my transmission. If I’m grinding gears it’s at work. I’m not grinding them in the mountains. Work is my other trailer I pull. I’ve been towing it behind me for far too long.

A crotchety caboose of sorts.

A change of life is always on my mind.

Scooter Blues by Johnny Blue Skies is playing in my ears. I love when my music pairs with my writing. There are no coincidences.

“With the wind in my hair I’m gonna scooter my blues away”

I’m not trying to retire. I’m not TRYING to do anything. I’m aligning with my speed is all.

“Think I’ll move to an island and turn into vapor”- same song

Still vibing

I’m in granny gear at the moment. My feet are crossed on my sofa. My cat is close enough to absorb its purr. Coffee needs refreshing but I’m in no hurry. I’ve got a solid stream of charcuterie today to keep me busy but I can still maintain cruise control. My home is almost settled which makes me idle happily.

Peace and elbow grease.

In the Mood – Robert Plant is playing in my headphones at 5:46. It took a minute for my body to acclimate to Friday (it’s Friday right?) I think the move has slowed my body and mind down for a bit. I’m not in my comfort zone so I think I’m pulling a little bit more energy wading around the home looking for something and everything. I haven’t been home much since we’ve moved any contributions to the unpacking is sporadic before I head into work. I try to complete any chores before work and allow my evenings for downtime. Sometimes it works too well and I’ll kick and scream if I have to put on pants to go eat dinner. By 5:45pm I’ve checked out of the world. I don’t watch the news, I don’t engage with asshats online.

I’m in my zone. It’s dull as hell and man I love me some dull when I crave it. I don’t miss those emails at 10pm alerting me that the salmon salade niçoise went two points over food cost due to a hericot verts shortage.

*yawns

*stretches

Listen I do fight the urge to cook everyday. It’s in my blood like poison.

Had to grab a few things we left behind at the old house and was disappointed that I didn’t get to say goodbye to my neighbors. Gave a solid salutation to their ring cam and left.

Petty?

Me?

Have we met?

I love N main and obviously the neighborhood is amazing. I won’t miss dodging everyone’s cars parked in the road at all times and the constant construction and restorations which meant squeezing in between dump trucks and landscaping trailers. N main isn’t as docile as it seems. You get all the transplants coming in and knocking down small plot homes to build 7000 sq ft houses with two inches of yard surrounding them. Hence the reason why cars are always parked in the road. You’re in a labyrinth of mud soaked sidewalks, large trucks beeping in reverse and run the risk of running over roofing nails.

Yeah I’m a little bit of an ass when I see this. I grew up poorer than most people so when I see things like this it jades me. It’s personal. I don’t like to think that way but there’s no reason why empty nesters need a 7000 sq ft home. Or anyone for that matter unless you’re 8 is enough.

Again

I’m jaded. We stacked 5 to 6 kids in a 1100 sq ft 2 bd 1 bath home when I was a kid.

Man the character development.

My headphones are on hemi-sync again. I feel like I’m some sort of bonsai tree sanctuary. It’s actually rather soothing. Pan flutes? Is that what I hear? Anyone remember the infomercial with Zamfir playing that instrument? Like a catalog of his greatest hits.

Who buys this?

Pair him up with Kenny G and Michael Bolton for a hell of a collab.

*pauses

*puts Zamfir on headphones

… Jesus

The coffee has given me a 3 second attention span

*moves to Isbell. I like Jason Isbell, love his song writing but I feel like he’s sort of an asshat in real life. I may be wrong.

Off track and random I have one song on my phone that I most likely downloaded from a playlist that I enjoy. Don’t know the name or artist. The only lyric I can recall is actually the quote of another older song lyric so when I google it the original song comes up. I’m frustrated that I can’t recall it but at the same time it’s sort of exciting to come across it by random selection so I can finally tie it together. Did I mention how dull my life is?

I love it

Gonna do some intermittent fasting this morning I don’t have anything for breakfast.

I was writing yesterday on about 4 cups of coffee and went into a ramble about the fascia acting like a car’s transmission. I had every intention of finishing it but upon reading the first few hundred words I realized I didn’t have the energy for it this morning. That one may take a minute. I was all over it yesterday ☕️

I’m wanting to take a stab at a fictional short story. Something tight and quick (that’s what she said). I’m thinking of posting on fb asking for an easy plot idea to challenge me. I’ve got some stories but I like the idea of improvising someone else’s suggestion for a challenge.

Short and sweet. Just to get my feet wet.

Short Sweet feet.

Ok

I’m caffeinated time to start my day.

Peace

At least I think it is.

2026 finally dropped the first month into the toilet and pinched us off with February. I’ve got a new Mumford and Sons song in my ears. I dig it. No coffee in the house this morning so I put in the nearest Starbucks into my phone and it took me to the one inside the Grenville Memorial Hospital. I wasn’t dressed for public viewing so I took the next nearest suggestion and it took me to the one on Augusta rd which also does not have drive through access so the employees at that one got to see me in my finest threads.

Any Starbucks eye rollers here? Yeah I drink Starbucks. I’m open minded to any new coffee shops but most of you taste the same. Usually Counter Culture coffee ish and I’m not a fan. I like Leopard Forest but not the drive. I like coffee underground also and will hit them up if I’m in the area. Another well known, local coffee spot I’m not a fan. I just think they’re asshats.

But Chad Starbucks tastes burnt.

I like burnt

If my spoon isn’t congesting in the sludge I don’t want it. I half expect the spoon to come out bent.

Yesterday was a banger. We had 250 individual boxes to make for a catering. Sandwich side was not so good but thankfully it worked out because I needed every moment of my sandwich guy’s free time. Delivery was at 5:15 we finished and arrived at 5:12. A little too close for comfort. Individual boxes are not my favorite thing to do but they pay the rent. I went in at 8 and didnt look up until 5. Grateful for the work. Not so much the assembly.

Still navigating the new home. I’ve figured out where 10% of our previous home inventory is located so far. We probably had coffee but I wasn’t going to lift one more lid to one more box for a least another 48 hours. My autocorrect turned “hours” into “Boris”. Makes sense I don’t think I’ve typed the name Boris in my entire life.

Boris

Boris rings large bells in dark churches

Boris is the number one henchman because he’s reliable but not smart

Boris is a small country dictator that picks his nose.

My new living room has 6 spotlights and a ceiling fan with two lights. Just in case I want to watch dust particles form in live action. I could do surgery in this room. I put a lamp on 15 feet away instead. No one needs that much illumination in such a small square footage of space.

My cat is nestled beside me it seems she’s made the transition into comfort once again.

How about those Epstein files though..

I need to seek out a new gym soon. I took a year off from the grind at the gym. I have a membership at Anytime/24 hour fitness or whatever it’s called by Publix in cherrydale but I stopped going for some time. It’s not much a month but I don’t remember how to log into anything online to cancel which means I have to drive up there and talk to someone. Oof.

I may join the Y again. I drive by it every day. All of my weights at our home are scattered to and fro. I just wanted to use that term. It’s been awhile.

February is wild. It was January for 8 months and now it feels like March is tomorrow. It’s like a month sandwich. The 4th? Gtfo

This was a shorty of a blog. I got my 34th on of the year in. I’m good with that. I’m not going back to proofread either. I rarely do anyway.

Cheers

The more I move the less I enjoy the effort of relocating. Each year we seem to accumulate more belongings. More storage boxes are purchased (I don’t mess with cardboard box quests) and the attic gets smaller and smaller. It doesn’t help that we bought 27 gallon storage boxes and the width of the attic doorway is regulated for 26.5. Which means I have to turn the boxes sideways for passage through the rickety drop steps with just enough edge for my pinky toes to pinch down like a rock climbers grip to keep from falling backwards to my 7 foot doom. Attic stairs have not evolved since their inception. I can zoom in on an ice cream cone in a child’s hand in Guadalupe from space but I still have to reckon with a staircase that’s 9.5 inches wide and rolls out like a foil blowout.

The movers were nice and extremely chatty. The only box they dropped was one filled with constructed Lego’s. We now have more projects to perform. I did get a kick out of one of the movers pointing to the sectional and asking “we taking all of this?”

Nah leave the corner as a tip for the next tenant.

We have two cats and if you’re a cat owner then you know how well cats deal with change. Stairs are a new concept for them currently. The eldest keeps going up three to four steps and returning. Most of yesterday it sheltered behind the dryer meowing its protest of the upheaval. The younger one seemed unbothered. It also has the IQ of a nickel.

A clutter bomb has landed in this home and it’ll be sometime before the house feels settled. I have a rather large catering today probably the biggest we’ve ever had and then I have to assimilate for a new menu along with Valentine’s Day boxes. I still haven’t found a vocation where I don’t have to indulge in this ridiculous holiday. As a 35 year representative of service industry establishments I can say I’ve never had a relaxing February 14th. Great for business stimulation.

I’m done being stimulated.

Gripes for the new home so far-

My neighbor’s porch light is over 100,000 lumens. I wouldn’t be surprised if their outdoor furniture were melted.

I’m being a big baby but I don’t like climbing stairs to go to bed. As a ex long distance runner my knees don’t enjoy steps first thing in the morning.

My truck is the same size as the front yard

Outside storage is none. My camping gear is now hanging in my work office

I have to walk further for my coffee refill. I’m stretching for that one and honestly over all I dig the dig I’m three miles away from my old neighbor who despite my best spell casting didn’t drop dead on his lawn the entire time we lived there. I checked our ring cam for the coroner daily.

Jk

No I’m not

We have so much shit in this house it’s ridiculous.

One thing you don’t think about until after you relocate is where to find your new four to five takeout restaurant options.

Mexican

Sushi

Burger and wings (it HAS to be both)

Chinese

Pizza

We are walking distance to downtown albeit it’s squeezed between gentrified and cracked homes. Is it odd that as I get older the cozier it feels to live close to a hospital?

Broken hip falling down the attic stairs? No problem! St Francis is 30 seconds away. I was born at the original St. Francis. How the world turns.

Cool story bro

I’ll have a new walking route soon. I’m actually excited about this having walked literally every single street and side street in N. Main. I wish I could’ve tallied all the miles traveled in that neighborhood. Average 3 miles a day, 4 days a week. I probably clocked over 1500 miles. That’s almost Denver. Highway miles.

I’m staring at 6 storage boxes in the kitchen and all I can hear in my head is the song 🎶 Black and yellow black and yellow black and yellow.. It’s wild that someone took the moving box industry by the horns and now everyone uses these boxes.

Black and yellow black and yellow 🎶

I’m listening to Hemi-sync sounds currently. I have a harp in one ear and xylophone in the other. My ass is back on the same seat of my sofa just a little different view now. We have two extra bathrooms man that was needed. Any venture away from the house for more than an hour meant three people scrambling into the house to call dibs on the toilet.

I’m gonna miss the vibe of the old house. It healed

This one will hold for as long as needed.

Bathroom has a nice shower head too. This is where I am in life. I like casual comfort.

The snow has made me a little lazy I’ve missed three days of work. I’m a momentum guy. Now I want to retire.

Side note with zero relevance- I don’t think I’m a winter person anymore. Still not a summer person I’m becoming an October 1- November 15th person.

Maybe an April person

The toilets here have flushing options. For the ones and the twos. I wonder what happens if you push both down? Is there a three option?

I think that’s enough writing for the day.

Peace ☮️