Reflection

This morning we sat and watched the remembrance of those who senselessly died on 9/11.  It was heartbreaking.

Two thousand, nine hundred and eighty three names.  Name after name.  Three hundred and fourty three of the old boys brothers.  We waited for the name of the 28 year old firefighter, Christian Michael Otto Regenhard, whose funeral, among many, the old boy went to and whose picture I look at every day while in my office.  Seeing the framed local newspaper article on the wall with this young mans face makes me remember every single day how real and tragic this was.  How much his family and brothers must miss him.  How sad it is that this young man will never get to experience all the joys life had yet to bring him.  Today he and all the others, will be remembered and mourned.  Today also makes me pause to think that this life is far to short.  Most of all it is far to short not to enjoy every single minute.  Even the tough ones.  The dark moments that you think you cannot get through and the times your heart is absolutely filled with joy - all these moment are worth living for and experiencing because two thousand, nine hundred and eighty three people had these moments stripped from them.  Who are we to complain?  Life is to short not to make every single second count.  To short not to remind yourself about the people you love, make decisions out of love and spend every moment possible doing what you love. 

The Interruption

Since this topic suddenly seems to be in the forefront of recent communications, I will have to address/subject you all to my opinion on this.  I have had some lengthy conversations as of late about the “interruption” and its various forms.  The way I see it, there are a few types of conversation interruptions.  With varying degrees of piss off when it should happen.   I welcome any comments on new or yet undiscovered methods of interruptions.

1.       The Hen – this is the type of interruption where you get a bunch of chicks together in one space and they all try to out talk each other, therefore each “story” takes about six hours to complete.  This type is even more chronic if the chicks involved have not seen each other for some time.  Like a week.  This one - not so bad and completely understandable.   Almost a necessity.

2.       The Holy Shit – this is one of the only times a conversation can/should be interrupted.  Car hurling at you and going to run you over? Big ass spider sitting on you?  Guy with an axe?  Interrupt away people.  These are good reasons.

3.       The Huh – this one is among my top 10.  What top 10?  How about things that piss me off.  This occurs when you are having a conversation with people and someone in the room interrupts your conversation with some obscure topic that has absolutely nothing to do with what is being talked about.  This type can also happen, apparently, when there are only a couple of people present.  When someone does this to you, they are just not interested in what you are saying and you obviously bore the living hell outta them.

4.       The What? – this borders on funny.  Unless you are the one talking – then not so funny.  This offence occurs when a person leaves the room, the people in the room are mid-conversation and the offender comes back in the room and, without bothering to look/hear if there is a conversation going on, gets all yelly and talks overtop of the people in the room.  Come on.  Really?

5.       The Are You Done? – this happens when a person finishes your sentences for you and does not bother to find out if that was what you were meaning to say.  Kinda a conversation stopper.  No?

I am sure there are more.  When did we all stop listening?   Isn’t there something to be said for a person who actually listens or shows an interest in what you are saying?  Maybe that’s why we all text, BBM and email so much.  No one wants to take the time to listen.  Sad really.   I think habitual interrupting is one of the most blatant forms of disrespect.  Even if your not interested in the rising cost of chicken feed or the inner workings of fuel injection, is it not respectful to at least listen?  Hell, we all might actually learn something if we just stop freakin talking and start freakin listening.

Oh Where Oh Where Did Summer Go?

Apparently it’s the end of summer and I have no idea where the time went.  None.  For the record I have spent the last few weeks celebrating stuff, reading (rocking the Game of Thrones series right now - all 6.2 thousand pages!), watching a ton of movies and not admitting my addiction to Plants vs Zombies (freakin game - could have written a novel in the amount of time I have spent killing little happy zombies!  I am such a loser.  I know).

I will have to confess that in my quest to get my fat ass back on the road and into my running shoes again I have started the P90X Massive, Muscle Meltdown.  My driving force behind this is to not create registered earthquakes when I hit the streets running (people around here are a little earthquake sensitive) and to not put pressure on the aging, running injured knees.  Think 747 with a Cessna landing.  Ouch.   Every time I pop one of the DVDs in and finish the crazy work out I literally run to the mirror to see if I look like one of the ripped, fit chicks working out with Tony (Mr. No Body Fat).  So far, after a few days, no change. Just really, really freakin sore.  Can’t walk down the stairs, get outta bed or lift my arms sore.  Epic soreness.  What do they say: No pain, no gain (baby).   No I will not be chronicling my workouts like some of those insane steroid monkeys do on their Facebook pages ("just going to crush my abs, just leaving to the gym to ruin my quads") I mean seriously if they spent less time on Facebook writing about their workouts they might have more time to look in the mirror and realize they look ridiculous!  No really dude.  Put your arms down.  I dare ya!