A Rented Room at the Motel Dullsville

by

“You’re in a rut, Ray. It’s making you a dull, dull, dull boy. I’ll leave your writing alone, maybe. Let’s face it, without me, you’d be arrested for walking on the red carpet with no invite. Know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t know what you mean. If I ever get invited to walk on the red carpet, I won’t be holding your arm.”

“After everything I’ve done for you? You’ll be singing a different tune when the invite comes.”

“Change of subject, okay. Dull? I’m anything but dull. Why I’m up every day at 5:30.”

“Strike one.”

“I exercise, shower and have Greek yogurt and oatmeal.”

“Strike two. At least put some cinnamin on your oatmeal, blueberries, even. How many days in a row have you been eating vanilla Greek yogurt? You really want to continue, Ray. Anyone can see where this is leading.”

“Where?”

“Duh? Dullsville.”

“Well, you’re not much better,” I snap defensively.

“How so? I change my name almost every day. To keep you on your toes I’ve moved off of one letter names. You can call me, De. It rhymes with free. And, glee. It might be short for de-lightful. Or, delicate.”

“Or, deranged or demented.”

“See, that’s another thing, you’ve got to start looking on the sunny side of the street. See the rainbow after the storm. Open those baby blue eyes, Ray, there’s a great day in front of you.”

“Where did all this come from?”

“I just got through watching a PBS special on positive thinking and breaking up dull, dull, dull routines. I thought of you right away.”

Can we finish this conversation? I have to get to the Y. Today’s my cardio workout.”

“Strike three. You didn’t even see the fastball I zipped past you.”

“De, you’re right. I’m in a rut. I’m riding in the fast lane to Dullsville. I’ve got to break its grip on me.”

“You’ve already rented a room at the Motel Dullsville, Ray. Let’s bust out of here.”

“How, De? How?”

“I’m glad you asked. You’ll have to wait until next week, that’s when part two of the PBS special is scheduled.”

“I’m out of here. I’ve got a cardio class.”

It’s easy to get trapped in routines. They’re comfortable. They tell us what to expect. Not too much effort is required once we’ve practiced them. Yet, they stifle growth. Every once in a while it’s good to take stock of the routines/habits we have and make a few changes. The changes will sharpen our thinking, give us a new perspective, and might even teach something new.

 

I Never Heard of Male PMS

by

“Ray, I got a serious question?”

“I only do serious questions on the fifth Tuesday of the month. The next one is in August. And, the one after that occurs during the month that celebrates the birthday of great men.”

“I suppose you were born in October.”

“Scorpio through and through.”

“I figured. My question can’t wait.”

“You’re going against male protocol.”

“Says who?”

“Three guys I work out with at the gym. Jerry said thinking too much hurts his brain. I tend to agree with him. Besides, he said, serious questions cause conflict, bleeding gums, male PMS.”

“Hold it right there, I never heard of male PMS.”

“Now, you’re going somewhere where we can have a serious discussion. Let’s say we do this over iced tea and nachos.”

“Please take me seriously.”

“Hey M, I’m only having a little male fun. No harm intended. Okay. I’m taking you seriously. What is your serious question?”

“Let’s clear something up first.”

“Okay, M.”

“You think only guys can ask serious questions? When was the last time a guy like Jerry asked you a serious question?”

“Come on, Ray. I’m waiting.”

“Does football talk count?”

“No.”

“Does the NFL draft count?”

“No.”

“Toppings on a pizza?”

“No, no, no.”

You’re talking real serious, something that goes beyond the scope of most of my species.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, what’s the question?”

“Why can’t people have honest discussions without getting upset, like you and me?”

When you speak, I need to listen. I need to listen not only with my ears but with my heart. I need you to know I not only heard you, but I valued what you said. We may not always agree, but when we listen with our hearts and take each other’s words seriously, a path through appears. 

 

 

Where’s My Yoga Strap?

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“Your hammies a bit tight, Ray?”

“Cut me some slack, Y. I’m stretching. Getting ready to do my sleeping baby, then the happy baby….”

“Who came up with these names? The brainchild of a creative writing class? It sounds more like a group of your species after happy hour.  Speaking of names, I’ve changed mine.”

“Why?”

“No, I’m not Y. I said I changed it.”

“Why, with a W and an h and a y.”

“My fans said your riding this pony into the ground. You need to come up with something a bit more original. So, I changed it to M because it rhymes with gem.”

“You’re a gem alright. Zirconium.”

“Oh, touchy. Can you pull your yoga strap a little tighter?”

“I’ll tear my quad or hamstring or bicep or deltoid.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No clue. But I think I’ll look cool when I walk into the gym with my yoga mat and yoga strap.”

“Are you going to join a yoga class?”

“Not unless they have a fantasy football league this fall.”

“So, you’re trying to be cool instead of flexible?”

“I’m flexible enough. I let you hang around the blog. I call that flexibility.”

“Good point. Why don’t you leave the mat and strap at the gym tomorrow before you hurt yourself.”

“Every once in a while, you have a good thought.”

Life comes at us fast with changes and challenges requiring us to stretch and learn things we’d just as soon not learn. If we’re not flexible, we hold ourselves back from the possibilities that await us. Flexibility helps us to grow, renew, and recreate ourselves.

Trouble Seemed To Find Me

by

I’m in favor or second and third chances. Maybe, because I’ve been the beneficiary of second and third chances more than once. Well, more than twice.

“How many, Ray? Let’s be honest,” said Y.

I roll my eyes. Honestly, I’m not a trouble maker. Somehow, growing up, trouble seemed to find me. I could be down by the river far enough away I couldn’t hear my dad or mom call me to do chores. What is wrong with that? I didn’t know it, but I was finding my peaceful place.

“You want me to tell you what was wrong with that?”

“Why?”

“You finally got it right.”

“Leave, I’m writing a serious blog.”

“Can I have another chance?”

“Oh, you are such a manipulator.”

“And, good at it, Ray.”

“It could have been when I was in the Army and left a day early on weekend pass. The First Sergeant only ripped me a new one, if you know what I mean. He gave me a second chance.”

“I don’t. Can you be explicit?”

“It’s a family blog.”

 

“I’m giving you a second chance, Ray.”

“A second chance for what?”

“Being a bit more sensitive to the characters you create. Once we’re created, we have our own life. I don’t like being threatened, erased, put on a shelf, deposited in a digital file.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Beat me. It’s like winning the Powerball, Ray. Come on, turn up those corners. Unclench the fists, pry open your jaw. That’s better. Now take a deep breath and breath out slowly.”

“You’re not my life coach.”

“You need one. Can I have a second chance?”

We all need second chances.

We all make mistakes, saw the wrong things. Hurt others. Second chances are another word for forgiveness, letting go of hurts, and working to rebuild a stronger relationship. I like second chances and third chances.

 

 

I Waited 6 Months For This?

by

Today is the summer solstice. I waited six months for this day.

“Give me a clue, Ray. Why did you wait for six months for this day? I don’t get it.”

“I was speaking with my readers, not you. BTW, what is your name today?”

“Y.”

“Because I am the writer and you are the creation. That’s Y.”

“You’re right, but your grammar could improve.”

“Why?”

“That’s better.”

“I feel like we’re going in circles. I wanted to write about the summer solstice. I’m off to a good start and you enter and confound everything. Something you do very well.”

“I accept your comment as a compliment.”

“Why? It was meant to show you that you need to take a six-year vacation in another galaxy, light years away.”

“Why?”

“Really? You don’t get it? Let’s be civilized for a moment. What is your name if it is not B, P, or C?”

“I’m Y. So don’t ask me why? Stay with me, Ray. You’ve got some smart folks that read this blog, Only God knows why. My last statement has a double meaning if you’re quick enough to grasp it. Let’s toss the smart, nerdy ones a bonus for reading this far in the blog.”

“What do you suggest, Y.”

That’s the boy. You’re catching on. Here’s a link to the hours of the summer solstice. Most of the maps are North America, but there is a world map in the bunch.

Celebrate the summer solstice in the northern hemisphere. It’s a day of light.

Imagine if our lives were filled with light to help others who struggle along the way. Every day would be a summer solstice.

 

Lost: My Train of Thought

by

As hard as I try, I find it difficult to pay attention. In church, if the sermon is longer than six minutes, my mind wanders. Sometimes, it wanders as low as two or three minutes. I call it a right brain, creative problem. A colleague once told me I was ADHD. A leadership consultant used the Myers-Briggs Personality Profile to define my lack of attention. Babe knew this and would often say, “tell me what I said,” I’d give her a sheepish grin and say, “Try it again from the top.”

Not paying attention got me in trouble in school more often than a change in the weather. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested if you can follow the logic. It was more that I was interested in something else, something like baseball, football, and as puberty hit, girls.

“When do I get in this story?”

“Where did you come from? I didn’t have plans to include you in today’s blog.”

“You drift any further, Ray. You’ll be out to sea without a lifejacket.”

“I can swim.”

“It’s a metaphor, Ray.”

“What was I talking about before you butted in?”

“I don’t have to tell you. All you have to do is go back a few lines and read it.”

“Are you having a sugar low? Did you have your morning coffee? Did you not get as many lines in my blog as you like?”

“All the above and more.”

“I’ve lost my train of thought. I was on a roll before you showed up.”

“You wrote you were going to give me a bigger role in your blog.”

“Not in your dreams. Question, what is your purpose in my blog? I can’t figure out why I created you. I can’t figure out why I let you come by every day.”

“I’m like the tune you can’t forget. Let me hum it for you, Bbbbbb, Pppppp, or Cccccc. Ray loves all three. Catchy, isn’t it?”

“What did you say? I was thinking of Vegas.”

“When are we going?”

“I only bought a plane ticket for one.”

Each of us sees the world a bit differently. Each of us processes information differently. Each of us has a piece of the truth, but not the whole truth. It’s why we need each other. Our differences complement how we think and process. Respecting differences, listening to and learning from each other make our world a better place.

 

 

 

Do You Mind If I Stand Next To You?

by

“What are you doing, Ray?”

“I’m standing in the middle of my backyard, hoping to find a quiet space. Get the hint.”

“Do you mind if I stand next to you?”

“Yes, this is my space. Don’t confuse that comment with any old social network application.”

P or B or C points, “Ray, your space is there. My space is here. You can’t have two spaces at the same time. It’s a law of spaceography.”

“I don’t think there is such a word as spaceography. Okay, stand there, be quiet and let me settle my mind.”

“Is so a word, language evolves every day. Is your mind unsettled? Did you try Tums?”

“That’s for an unsettled stomach, not an unsettled mind. If you don’t mind, quiet please while I do my mantra and breath deeply.”

“What mantra are you using? If I like it, I’ll use it too. Why did you step away from me?”

“I need more space.”

“I liked your original space better than my original space; since you’re not in your original space, I’ll claim it. See, I’m next to you again. Okay, give up the mantra.”

“No, I will not give up the mantra. And, please leave my original space.”

“I think closeness will help us bond. What do you think?”

“I don’t want to bond. I also don’t think I’ll find peace in my backyard.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I heard you go can get a good piece of chicken at Bub’s Barbeque.”

“I want peace not piece.”

“You’re unsettling my mind, Ray. Do you have any Tums?”

We all need to find a sacred space. We need a place where we can go and allow our minds to clear, bodies to settle into their natural rhythm. And, for me, a place to pray and be silent. I have such a space in my backyard. If I miss going to it for several days, I feel it. I hope you created a personal sacred space.

 

 

A Father & Five Friends

by

“What’s up, Ray?”

“I’ve got a major problem P or B or whatever you call yourself. I’m stuck. I don’t get writer’s block. I’m afraid I have symptoms.”

“No problemo hombre. I’m here.”

“Your Spanish is one of my problems. You don’t speak Spanish.”

“Que?”

“Give me a break, P.”
“It’s not P, it’s not B, today it’s C. You’re jealous because I have more readers than you do.”

“C? Make up your mind.  Guys are naturally jealous. How was I supposed to know I was creating a . . . .” . . . .” . . . .” . . . .” . . . .”

“What were you going to say, Ray?”

“Nothing,” I said. In reality, I was going to say phenom and then thought P or B or C or whatever might say that is her name. No way I am going to call her Phenom.

“It was something. In the meantime, here’s the deal. Set aside your masculine pride. Follow my lead and don’t argue with me.”

“What’s in it for me?” I asked.

“A post.”

“That’s it?”

“No, you can take me out for Mexican. I can practice my Spanish.”

“What are you going to order, ”

“You want me to tell you or do you want to get your post done?”

I roll my eyes.

“Okay, Pancho. I’m going to ask questions, you answers them.”

“It’s Ray, not Pancho. What is the first question?”

“Listen up Pablo. What was it like being a father to five girls when they were home?”

I give her a surprised look. It’s a good question for Father’s Day. “I enjoyed every minute. I wanted to be with them. I wanted only the good things in life for them. Babe and I watched them grow into wonderful, strong, intelligent women. I am proud of each of them. When I am with them now, I enjoy the moments. I am grateful for them.”

“Not bad, Juan. They are all grown women now with families. What is your relationship with them?”

“I’ll always be their biological father. But I consider them much, much more than daughters and family. Each of them is a good friend. Each of them a good person. Each of them has a heart of love. You can always tell a good friend by how quickly they’ll help you when you’re lying flat on your back. All five would rush to me in a second. And, I would do the same for them. We’re friends. Friends show up for each other.”

“Happy Father’s Day, Ray.”

“Thanks, B or P or C.”

 

 

How About Pizza Delivery?

by

“What is that smell, Ray!”

“Salmon. Dr. Oz said Salmon is good for my heart.”

“The smell is killing me. Do you think something that smells so bad can be good for you? Do you have a spray? A tub of baking soda? Hairspray? I’m gagging.”

“Do you have to be so dramatic, P? BTW, what does P stand for?”

“I changed it to B because B rhymes with free. That’s me, a free spirit. You can’t tie me down, Ray.”

“You are a character, not a free spirit.”

“You weren’t listening, Ray. I know it’s a challenge for your species, but at least try. B or P, and BTW, they both rhyme with free. Are you through? Toss the salmon, we’re eating out. I want to go a place where the wine is served in a real wine glass, not your typical places where they pour it in a styrofoam cup.”

“What’s wrong with eating on picnic tables? They bring the food on butcher block paper.”

“Do you want me to call Bobby Flay or is it Filet? On the QT, Ray, Dr. Oz does not eat salmon.”

“How do you know what Dr. Oz eats or doesn’t eat? Why am I interested in what Dr. Oz eats? Why do I think you know the answer?”

“Slow down Paco, one question at a time, por favor. I’ve been practicing my Spanish in case you didn’t notice. It wouldn’t hurt you to learn a second language. You’re having enough problems with your first language, may as well dump it. Pronto.”

“I know some Spanish. Here’s one for you, adios.”

“Oh cute, very cute. I don’t get paid for all the work I’m doing to help you with your blog, counsel you, act as your emotional anchor, sounding board, confidant.”

“Please, spare me. As far as going out, I’m watching my budget. How about a pizza delivery.”

“And, I have to drink the wine you use for cooking? The four ninety – five when it’s not on sale? No wonder you stay thin. You can’t stand your own cooking and you’re too cheap to eat at a good place.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Score one for you, Ray. You actually asked me my opinion.”

“It was a slip of tongue.”

“Thought as much. You’re the writer. Write off the tab. Get a free expensive bottle of wine. Write yourself a nice polished pair of shoes, no boots and jeans kind of place.”

“In case you forgot, we’re in South Texas. San Antonio. It’s cowboy country. I think I’ll wear my boots, jeans, and cowboy hat.”

“I know you try to stay in shape, but you forgot to mention a shirt. Most Texas places say, ‘No shirt no service.”

“And a shirt. Why do I find conversations with you tiring?”

“Because I’m smarter than you.”

“That hurt.”

“Truth always does, Ray. Now where we going? How about Chez Flor?”

“How about, El Taco Grande, the food truck down by the Alamo?”

Life is better when we don’t take everything too seriously; when we can enjoy good conversation with a friend, and to see the humor in the life’s mundane things.

 

Admit You’re Lost – Never

by

No sign of the created character. I’m not blogging today. It’s a Riverwalk, iced tea, chips and salsa kind of day.  Until …

“Hey, Ray. Where we going?”

“We?” I said. “I’m going to the Riverwalk. I need to get off the world, relax, and have some down time. Alone. Did you hear the last word?”

“Word?”

“I’m going to the Riverwalk. I’m going to sit at one of the outside tables with the colorful umbrellas. I’m going to listen to mariachi and I’m going to order iced tea. The chips and salsa are complimentary. And, I’m going to people watch. I’m looking for a character to replace you.”

“Good luck with the last part. I’ve been thinking of my name. I’ll give you a hint, it starts with P.”

I roll my eyes, “Yes and P rhymes with T and T stands for TROUBLE. Since when do characters name themselves. That’s the creator’s job.”

“I’ve not seen that in writing, Ray. You show it to me and I’ll back off.”

“Well,” I said, “It’s not in writing. It’s a writing tradition. Once something is a tradition, you can’t break it.”

“Even more reason to break it, smash it, stomp on it, put it through the shredder. Let’s start a new tradition. And, BTW, when we go to the Riverwalk, I want a margarita and a nacho appetizer. Let’s make the dough flow. That will be our new tradition.”

“I don’t think so. And, what’s your purpose for going with me? I, at least, have a reason, to replace you.”

“Again, good luck with that. I’m going because I have to unwind. Taking care of you is a full-time job. I know no other character who has such a back breaking, emotionally handwringing job. Working with you is like riding a roller coaster all day long.”

“Give me a break. I’m easy going. Lot’s of fun. Happy go lucky. I go with the flow.”

“Who wrote that line for you, your publicist?”

“If I knew how to make a margarita, I’d give it to you now to keep you quiet.”

“Before we leave, do you mind writing in that I’m carrying my expensive, handstitched Italian-made dark brown leather handbag?”

I roll my eyes. The car door opens, P sits next to me. She flips the mirror on the visor down, checks her makeup.”

“Do you mind staying home? I need some space. I need to clear my head. My readers will think I am going over the edge with you as an everyday character.”

“Will think? Really, Ray. We all know you need help. We’re all here for you.”

“Where did I hear that line before?”

“You sure you know the way to downtown? Shouldn’t we get Uber?”

“I don’t need to, P. I know the way like I know the back of my hand.”

“We’ve been down this road before, Ray. It’s not a pretty road. Tell the little boy it’s okay to ask Siri for directions or to call Uber.”

“No can do.”

“Why is your left turn signal on?”

“To make a left turn.”

” I think you need to make a right turn to go to downtown.”

“I know a shortcut.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m circling the block. I’m making sure no one is tailing us. I’m reading a spy thriller and every good agent always checks to see is there is a tail.”

“Reality check, Ray. You are not an agent. And, thanks for making the turn toward downtown.”

“What are you doing now? I’m looking for tall buildings, they are a sign of downtown.”

“You’re lost. Admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Pull off at the next exit and plug in Siri or Google maps.”

“Don’t need to. The big building will be just over the horizon.”

 

“We’ve been driving for an hour, downtown is only twenty minutes away. When are you going to admit you’re lost? I want my nachos and margarita.”

“I’m not lost. I’m driving in circles, each one smaller than the previous one, this way I’ll get to downtown. What are you doing?”

“I’m asking Siri for directions.”

“Nooooooooo. My guy friends will laugh at me.”

Accepting each other for who the other person is without trying to remake them into something different is the glue that builds a great relationship. I am who I am and I like me the way I am. I hope you can say the same about yourself.

 

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