Roads we drive and the paths we walk.

The future is looking very promising right now. A rock cooking on a river bank still has its toes in the water. Though it might just sit there, watching all matter of life being carried away from it, it still gets to partake in its way. Little fishes are passing by, going for a scratch on their fins thanks to the rock. The water pushed through on its normal course waiting for a little bit of a change of pace, the rock provides that.

I’m a rolling boulder. Pushing through the forces of nature that are my children. Each of them becoming masters of their universes. It makes me feel good; I thought this whole trip would be a venture of me interrupting, but if turns out that I’m just moving down a mountain, and they are the paved ways left by boulders before me. It seems I am the one being moved now.

Marc is set to compete in some NCAA competitions.When he was just a tike I haven’t talked to him in a while, and he hasn’t talked about me, but he’s doing well. He has his land of ice in the north, and I’m happy to see him succeeding, even if it is on skates.

Ashely, to my east, is raising her little cubs in the middle of the forest. Her husband may mean well, but he is an outsider to the pack that we have developed. The two of them seem to be doing well; they plan on opening a shop of some sort online. I don’t think shops do too well online, but they are happy with the way things are going.

My son in the South, James, apparently is now in talks to securing a great big contract from I don’t know how all of those Florida folk build so much. Limestone isn’t the greatest foundation to build an empire. I just hope my son starts investing in flight companies before that whole state sinks into the ocean.

As for me, I’m headed on my merry way. Being a boulder has its downsides and right now I’m feeling pretty tired. But I still have a whole road ahead of me and then some. I look forward to sitting down and resting with my dog for a little bit. Maybe I can do itAll this writing and all my daughters pestering seem to be pushing me in this direction. Maybe I’ll begin a book.

That’s the idea anyway, I kind of like that idea. Sitting on my porch with this ThinkPad, doing what my wife loved doing. Telling a story. It seems like such a trivial thing but at the same time, it’s so…. Relaxing. I just want to be able to look over, pat Roger Jr on the head, have a glass of scotch next to me and just figure this whole thing out on the page. I think I’d like that. But for now, enough of this blogging stuff, I have a road to travel and a mark to settle. Somehow, it feels like I’m starting over again.

Familiar Key Strokes.

So now I’m in Raleigh North Carolina with my daughter and her husband and already he is bringing up health stuff again. Talking about my diet, talking about seeing a doctor. He wants me to see one of his friends in Ponte Vedra Beach. This man is claiming to be concerned about my health, and yet he is sending me back to Florida to see one of his doctor friends at I’m as healthy as I’ve ever been. I’ve beaten cancer!

After I had finished chewing him out for being a jerk, my daughter spoke to me in private, and I could see the feat in her eyes. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Not the kind of emotions I want my daughter to be conveying, I love her, and I don’t want her to feel scared, nor do I want her reading this blog anymore.

Needless to say, I told her I would see a doctor when I got back home.

39490667 - assorted delicious grilled meat with vegetable over the coals on a barbecue

I have no intention of going to Florida unless I’m seeing my son and I don’t want to be in the sunshine state any longer than that.

That put a little bookend to our conversation, and we went out to get some of that world famous North Carolina barbecue. I had a beautiful rack of ribs from this place called ‘The Pit.’ If you needed me ever to go anywhere involving food and it’s called the pit, I guarantee that I’ll be there. I had that a wonderful craft beer called the AMB Revolution, and it washed everything down.

You are talking about some fine, hickory-smoked and honey glazed ribs. I almost ordered another one for the road. Give me a few pounds of napkins and a beer in a paper bag and this would be the best road food I would have ever had in my entire life. But once again, my daughter gave me those big sad eyes and told me some nonsense. I wasn’t listening because I was too busy being sad. Maybe it’s the ribs; they’re so good they’ve made me feel sad in front of people.

But, right now I’m lying in their guest bed, typing on this old Thinkpad my wife used to have. It’s interesting to touch the same keys she used to touch. think backThere are little spots on the keys where her fingers used to be. I can place my finger over them, shadow where her slender fingers used to be.

She used to type letters to everyone in the household. If you left the toilet seat up, you got a letter. Got an A on your report card, you got a letter. She never even bought greeting cards, she would just work on this little guy tapping away until she found the design she wanted. I miss her letters; I miss her. I keep up with this…. Blog. But I don’ think that I will ever be able to produce anything as good as her. I don’t think I’m a writer; I don’t think I’m much of anything without her.

This lonesome road, a time to behold.

So I’m back up on that long road of life. Back north to where my home is. I’ll probably end up stopping off to see my daughter.

36962816 - pipelines of a oil and gas refinery industrial plant.

I’m sure she’d love it since now all of the sudden she’s a huge fan of my work. But I just like driving at the very least. It’s nice to be out of the house for a little bit, I left my dog with the neighbor, they go often hunting so it’ll be nice for him to get the exercise.

Outside of that, I spent the night and prodded my son earlier about what he did specifically and apparently he’s a compressed air salesman. I was trying to look at the page, but I just can’t seem to navigate it. That’s it in case anybody wants to decode it and get back to me. All I know is that I’m proud of him.

I had an interesting little moment earlier. I was at a rest stop on my way to seeing her, and I was just sitting there. I had made a sandwich at my son’s house, bread, and bologna, fuel. I was tearing the meat from the sandwich and staring out into a nearby wooded area. As I began to focus, I saw eyes staring back at me, a few sets of them, one high, the rest low. Eyes of a deer no doubt, some doe with her little bucks.

There they stood petrified, wondering if I was going to tear the meat from them too. But I didn’t. I sipped on my Dr.Pepper and finished my sandwich. Took my shoe off to shake the rock loose that had somehow found its way in there. Not on this day, I may be a predator but hurting kids and mothers is not the way of the predator, it’s the way of the carnivore, and I eat bread.

So I’ll probably have to stop near the northern part of Georgia tonight. Tomorrow, Raleigh. lonesome roadI will do the best that I can to see that I can take care of my bucks before I pass on into the leaves. But until then let’s see if we can’t hit up another bar in the mean time. It seems the only thing left for me to enjoy a few damn good drinks and make sure my kids are okay.

There’s this place called the Porter Beer Bar. I’d enjoy a beer and a burger after the seafood bonanza my son made me go through. I appreciate a good catfish now and then but I’m not a fan of the bottom feeders like shrimp and mussels. But I wanted to make my son happy, and it’s apparently all he eats right now. But I’m back onto that lonely road. I wish I had my doggy with me; he would have loved the ride, but I never know when some hurricane would have hit at any time, I don’t know how that place works.

Broken branches, falling leaves.

Do you think a tree gets excited to see an acorn fall from it’s branches? His trunks stay put, rooted deep within the ground, deep to what he was brought up from. Both may be from similar seeds, but the wind decides where they rest. Acorns are merely a product of, not a creation of, the tree itself.

What can the tree show? My little saplingOther than itself being resolute, steadfast in where it belongs in this world, it being its flag. A tree shows no movement, other than what the wind forces. The branches do not move at the behest of the tree but are rather interpreted by the world around it.

A tree is just a tree. It may be a living thing, but it is devoid of emotion, meant to just live its life on this planet doing everything it has done since birth, everything that has been preset before it by the previous acorn. The only change that happens is when it is cut down by man or taken down by nature.

So when my son asks me if I’m proud of him. I just smile and put my hand on his shoulder. The wind may decide what the tree shows, but my hand touched him. I am a proud father. My son has grown up to be a good, hard-working man, and he currently has gainful employment at, While I may not know specifically what he is doing, I know that it is good hard work because I see harder men them him holding themselves with much less power than him. My boys got roots of his own.

I can’t say much about Florida other than I prefer the weather. The dryness of our home climate cracks my lips.

10642760 - florida heat. sunset with palm trees. dark orange sky and trees shapes
10642760 – florida heat. sunset with palm trees. dark orange sky and trees shapes

No need for lip balm here. That being said, the people are rude, and the driving is bad. Hopefully, my son provides parents with paddles to whack their spoiled kids upside the head with, maybe then this place would be a little more understanding of laws of these lands.

My daughter gave me a call on my cell phone, she apparently has found my blog and is a big endorser of me in this. I don’t like calling it a blog, but she insists I call it that. I like to think of it as a contemporary chronicle of an American man. I don’t want to try and ‘trend’ or set any new ‘hashtags.’ I’m just trying to seal a little part of my life so my grandchildren might be able to understand what it was like in their kooky grandfather’s heads. It seems like these blogs are the only things those kids respond to nowadays and I might not be around forever to sit them on my kneed and set them straight myself.

So since the cat is out of the bag, let me end this with a few rules for my kids. Be good, work hard, live below your means, save your money, love completely and floss. Flossing is very important, and no one seems to do it.

Finding Life in Retirement

living-in-madison-wisconsin-progressive-culture-in-the-capital-4  I retired about a year ago. I worked at a brokerage firm in Madison, Wisconsin. It was my 25th year with the company, and I thought it was about time I moved. I lost my wife five years ago to cancer and our three kids had all moved away. My son, James, moved to Florida because he wanted to get away from the cold. He used to live in Hawaii, but he got a great job offer after graduating with his psychology degree from the University of Hawaii in Manoa. My daughter, Ashley, moved to Raleigh, North Carolina and opened up her own gelato store. She lives there with my wonderful son-in-law, Miguel, who is a web developer. They have three beautiful kids, Angie, George and Kelly. And lastly, my youngest child, Marc, has been living in Canada for the last year and a half one a hockey scholarship at the University of Toronto. He was studying graphic design while trying to be a professional hockey player.
2011-03-01_13-58-48.572I told the three of them that I was retiring and selling the house. They knew it was time, but I asked them to come to the house one last time to gather anything that they wanted to keep. Anything that they didn’t want to keep, we would sell or donate. I took to cooking that night. I wanted to make them their mother’s famous turkey dinner. We only ever ate the turkey dinner during Thanksgiving. But, I knew that we wouldn’t be able to have Thanksgiving together this year because everyone was scattered. They all came over and we had a wonderful dinner. We spent a lot of time reminiscing about the times we’ve had in the house. Ashley cried the most. She was UofT_Logo.svgclosest to my wife, Amy.

We went through all their old rooms and we spent a lot of time digging through their various belongings. And then came the worst part, we went through my wife’s belongings. I hadn’t touched any of her clothes, her jewelry or her night stand. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of the clothes; they still smelled like her. Ashley was the bravest one and really she reminded me so much of her mother. She was so strong, she was kind, and she looked like Amy. She began rummaging through all the clothes first. She pulled out a blue dress, and I grabbed Amy’s blue dress from Ashley because I couldn’t let that one go. That was the dress Amy and I renewed our vows in. I cried as I held it close to my nose and mouth. I breathed in the faintest smell Amy had left on the dress. My kids sat around me in a circle and hugged me all at once. The boys silently shed tears and Ashley held her sobs in to be strong for her blubbering father.

After days of clearing things up, I called Advanced Disposal for bulk pickup. We had a yard sale and it was a success. We raised quite a bit of money that I gave to Ashley for the kids’ college funds. Whatever we couldn’t sell we donated and whatever else was left was sitting on the lawn waiting to be picked up. Ashley asked me to move in with her and Miguel. They had a guest house on their property that no one was using. I told her I’d pay her rent for it and she could put that money in the bank for the kids’ college fund. Once I sold the house, I gave each of them part of the sale. And now, I live in Raleigh.