I’m pretty sure no one is reading this so I can go spouting off, but every time I assume no one is reading this somebody is reading this. Well, I’m pretty sure it’s down to two or three people, tops, so I should be OK.
My life continues to be a series of annoyances, but recently one of my neighbors died. Sam Blackman was great guy, only 41, with two cute boys and fit as hell. The only time I remember being annoyed by his arguments was when he was trying to tell me that we needed to understand the position of Joe Arpaio instead of dismissing him out-of-hand like I was doing. He had his quirks, like being very stingy about his clothing allowance, but with the reasoning that he was going to be in public service some day with a very small paycheck. This coming from a multimillionaire, I’m guessing, who sold his company to Amazon. I would see him walking down the street with his two boys, taking them to baseball or soccer even on cold rainy days. He’s going to be missed by a lot of people, me, our fellow gym members, the local high-tech community, and the state of Oregon.
My little problems don’t seem to matter that much, but that just makes me thing that I don’t matter that much. Thinking like that, along with being tired, makes me feel a little depressed. I usually know how to get out of that by now and that usually just means blasting dance music into my head during the day, and watching music videos on youtube if I feel that way at night.
Then I remembered one of the reasons I started writing a blog was because I started Crossfit and it made me feel incapable, old, and dull. Everyone was younger, fitter, faster, and I was just taking up space and sweating too much. Being able to say that out loud made me feel a little better. That was years ago and what am I doing again? Crossfit again. And in that time since I first started, people are even younger, even more fit, and doing way more interesting things.
The worst part is that I can’t stop thinking about someone and just like most times this happens, there’s no reason for it. I’m a grown-ass man, and I’m feeling moony like I did in high school. At least now over the years I’ve figured out ways to distract myself from this, but now what I’m old I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep and guess who pops into my head and keeps me awake? (Here’s where my sister is starting to think it’s probably a dude, but it isn’t.) I thought I would’ve grown out of this sort of thing, but I guess not.
At least there’s my iTunes to distract me. My iPhone has 1639 songs or 4.7 days worth of music, that gets put on shuffle. Of course shuffle is awful and it plays the same few songs over and over, but tonight it was on point. Walking down to the store it started with 38 Special’s So Caught Up in You, a song that I remember hearing in high school while I was feeling the same way. Then on the way back Alcohol by the Barenaked Ladies came up, which was appropriate because all I was doing was getting my growler filled. Not as apropos but fun nevertheless, You be Illin’ by Run-D.M.C. came up. Ah, the distractions of weird old music. At least it helps me.